Chapter Fifteen

How Long Shall I Pine for Love?

Remus descended the spiral staircase outside of Dumbledore's office with a feeling of relief and anticipation. Relieved of the burden of his report, he was free to do all of the things he had been dreaming about for so many long weeks. He finally felt clean, after a blissful hour in the Prefect's bathroom. The clothes that he had left in Dumbledore's care had been washed and pressed in anticipation of his visit. Madam Pomfrey had clucked and fussed over him for nearly an hour, forcing a number of tonics and potions down his throat, slathering him with various balms, and finally finishing him off with a generous dose of Pepper-Up potion. He had then gratefully gobbled up a thick roast beef sandwich and several bowls of barley soup, washing it down with mulled mead and strong tea.

Finally, when he had begun to feel human again, he was shown into the Headmaster's office, where he spent an intense two hours of interrogation, speculation, strategy, and brainstorming. The Headmaster had been kind enough to allow Remus to give his report without any witnesses, so he was spared excessive discomfort or embarrassment. Afterwards, Dumbledore reiterated his gratitude and sympathy to Remus, encouraging him to make the most of the next seventy-two hours, and to 'be happy.'

As he reached the bottom of the staircase, he wondered if the Headmaster had any idea that making the most of his short period of freedom would hopefully include a ravenous and rapturous reunion with a fellow member of the Order. He suspected that he did.

She is just a short walk away. You could be inside of her in less than an hour. The possibility that she could have taken his advice and moved on, that he could find her snuggled up to another man when he knocked on her door, was one that he refused to consider. He'd had his ideal holiday planned out for weeks, months, really. He was going to spend the next few hours showing her how much he loved her, possibly even telling her. Then, at some point, he would have to go over to the Weasleys, to fulfill the stated purpose of his return. If she had plans for dinner with her family, they would separate, or she could go with him to Molly and Arthur's. The Weasleys would welcome her, he knew, and would be discreet about the fact that they had arrived together.

A familiar, cold, contemptuous voice interrupted his fancies.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the former Professor Lupin. Come back to play at being a human again, have you? I wondered if you might find it…easier to live without those pesky bonds of civility. How are you fitting in with your new family, Lupin?"

With a sigh, Remus turned to face the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. In a pleasant voice, he replied, "Probably about as well as you fit in with your pack of thugs, Professor Snape. Good day to you, I have an appointment." He started to turn, but Snape's next words stopped him cold.

"Off to rut about with your bratty little Metamorphmagus? It really is quite sad, what you've done to her. People are beginning to talk."

Lupin felt the blood drain from his face "What I've…done to her?"

"Oh, didn't you know? She's quite unable to alter her appearance. Of course it has rather limited her usefulness to the Order, not to mention her ability to perform her job. She's lost her focus; she's easily distracted. She could very well be asked to leave the department. And all because you couldn't keep your hands to yourself. But then again, you have always been reckless, never able think of consequences before acting, have you, Lupin?" There was an unmistakable trace of malicious delight in Snape's tone.

"The nature of my relationship with Miss Tonks is none of your concern, Snape. Nor is it anyone else's. She is an adult. She is perfectly capable of making her own decisions, and dealing with the consequences. And I doubt very much, from what I know about her, that she would allow worry for a friend to compromise the work that she does."

Snape smirked, and shook his head. "You keep telling yourself that, Lupin. Just wait until you see her. She used to be such a…vibrant creature. Now she looks like a drowned mouse."

"She's lost two people she loved in the last six months."

"And foolishly chosen to wallow around with a beast." His cold black eyes narrowed in contempt.

"Prick," Remus muttered under his breath. "When is the last time you inspired somebody to love you, Snivellus?"

"She pities you, Lupin. They all do. 'Such a noble man, and life has been so hard on him. He needs someone to take care of him.' Or perhaps she is craving a little excitement. She must enjoy danger; she chose to be an Auror, after all. Shall I tell her what you really are, Lupin? Shall I paint the picture of you that I have seen? Shall I describe the rabid, bloodthirsty creature that charged me; snarling, spitting, and ready to tear out my throat? Does she know what you have been doing, what your new friends have been doing?"

"I find it difficult to imagine how you can justify insulting my present situation, given the one you have been in for years. Especially considering that my fellows and I, though we may have animalistic tendencies, never had any choice in the matter. You, on the other hand, find yourself in your present situation because of choices you have made. In any case, Miss Tonks has no illusions about me. She is no stranger to the natures of dark creatures, including werewolves and Death Eaters, and knows perfectly well how to deal with them."

"She was never one of my brighter students, whatever her ridiculous hair color would lead you to assume. She is rash, unable to take into consideration the long-term consequences of her actions. Typical Griffyndor. She will come to regret her involvement with you, but not until you have completely ruined her life." It was clear that Snape was enjoying Remus' discomfort.

"You've never understood the concept of loving someone more than you love yourself, have you, Severus? I have already attempted to discourage Miss Tonks from involving herself with me. She is a very strong-willed young woman."

"She is a child, Lupin. And you are a pathetic, lonely old man with nothing to offer."

This hit a little to close to home, and Remus found himself lashing out, in a way that he knew he would regret later. "And I believe her words used to describe you were, 'an aged, bitter, ugly, misanthrope with poor personal hygiene.' In other words, a 'greasy git,' but I am sure you hear that one on a daily basis. And I believe she threw in 'asshole,' too. The point is; she is a very good judge of character. And I am sure that you have more important things to do than to speculate about our relationship, which is, as I have already indicated, none of your goddamn business. Good day, Professor Snape."

Remus turned away angrily, and continued toward the front door of the castle, but not with the same sense of anticipation he had had a few minutes before. Snape's malicious words could not have come at a worse time. The idea that Nymphadora had been pining for him, unable to function normally, brought out the worst of his self-doubt and fear. He thought about the feisty,

audacious, competent Auror that he had worked with on countless occasions. He also remembered the bright young thing that he had marveled over as they sat at the kitchen table, drinking and laughing with Sirius.

If he had never attempted to help her with her grief, if he had just left her alone to work it out, his feelings would never have been revealed and she would have been much better off. Her sadness would only have lasted a few weeks, and nobody would have questioned it, thought less of her. But because of his need, his weakness, his selfishness, she was suffering, six months after the fact. He had already begun to ruin her life, and it would only get worse. He apparated to the Burrow within seconds of reaching the Hogwarts gates.

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Molly Weasley had not been the only person lost in memories during Celestina Warbeck's singing. Remus' memories were equally pleasant, though, he imagined vastly different from Molly's sweetly sentimental ones. On the night he had gone to Tonks' flat, hoping to comfort her about her grandfather, they had stayed up until the wee hours of the morning. She had turned on the wireless next to her bed fairly early on, and he had been surprised to discover that their taste in music ran along similar lines, in spite of the fact that he was no fan of the Weird Sisters.

When the dreaded 'Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love' came on, Remus groaned audibly. It had been played to death on the common room wireless during his early teen years, and while it had been snigger-inducing when it first came out, it eventually became unbearably irritating. Especially since the bewildering girls in his year, who had originally seemed to find its innuendo as laughable as the boys did, began, almost overnight, to simper and sigh over the 'romantic' lyrics. They started to look at the boys; himself included, with a terrifying sort of expectant giddiness.

All of this was explained quickly to Tonks, as he made an attempt to change the channel or shut the wireless off. But she had found the song and his reaction to it more than a little amusing. She remembered that it was a song her mother used to sing while she was cooking, and that when it finally occurred to her what the lyrics alluded to, she had been mortified. Now, however, she thought of the song as a happy memory of her childhood, a little cheesy, perhaps, but endearing. She also discovered a good way to torture Remus, by singing along with it, very loudly and quite a bit off-key. He made several attempts to distract her with kisses, but she kept returning to the song, or humming while his mouth covered hers. Eventually, by kissing lower and lower on her body, her caterwauling became a low hum, then finally disappeared into moans and sharp cries. By the time the song had ended, neither of them paid any attention to the music.

He lay in his bed at the Burrow, missing her, and reflected with a little satisfaction on the events of the evening. It had taken a great deal of self-control to be able to defend Snape to Harry, after his earlier encounter with the contemptible man. It was also a testament to his trust in Dumbledore that Harry's words had not even swayed his opinion a little. It occurred to him that Snape had very little, other than Dumbledore's trust, to feel good about in his life, and had probably lashed out at Lupin in defense of that hard-won position. There was nothing that Snape had said, really, that Remus had not said to himself on countless occasions, and it was just what he needed to keep from giving in to his weak heart. He had sent a brief note to Nymphadora a few minutes after he had arrived, borrowing the Weasleys' owl. He had assured her of his safe arrival at the Burrow, but did not dare add any personal information. The mail was still being searched, for Harry's safety, after all.

In the meantime, he had a clean, warm bed and a belly full of food and drink. It was really more than he had a right to ask for.

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After Christmas dinner, Lupin took a walk through the garden of the Burrow, along the same path that Harry had walked with Rufus Scrimgeour. He was stunned; he felt as if the Hogwarts Express had hit him. He could not believe that he had heard from Harry, of all people, that Nymphadora had a new Patronus, a four-legged, large animal, and 'did Professor Lupin know how that could have happened?'

Oh, he knew, just as he knew that Molly blamed him for Tonks' refusal to attend Christmas dinner. And he was certain that Molly knew precisely what her hint that Tonks was alone would do to him. Guilt tugged at him from two directions. Not to go seemed heartless. But to go, and risk further involvement would hurt her more in the long run. If she was angry with him, and hurt by his lack of contact, she would be back to normal much sooner than if she waited with false hope.

But the Patronus, that was not something to dismiss easily. How long had it been since it changed, and why had she never told him? Snape knew, according to Harry. Snape knew, and that is why he had been so cruel the previous day. Snape knew, and if he did, so did everyone else in the Order. They had to know, and yet none of them had mentioned it to him.

Before he knew it, he had reached the apparition point at the end of the Weasleys' lane. He found himself, a moment later, at her front door.

It took an unusually long time for her to respond to his knock. She answered the door wearing a plush robe, with pink cheeks and wet tendrils of hair curling about her face. Her first reaction was one of joy; she squealed and threw her arms around him, pulling him into her flat.

"Remus! You're a sight for sore eyes, even if you do look like death warmed over!"

He grinned, drinking in the sight of her. "You, on the other hand, look…."

"Like shit, I know…" She gave an embarrassed shrug.

"I was going to say lovely."

"That's because you have impeccable manners. Everyone else tells me I look like something the cat dragged in, and they are right. Have you eaten?" She ushered him into her sitting room.

"Yes, I'm stuffed, actually. Molly…"

Her face fell. "Oh, so you did go there."

"Why didn't you go? You were invited, weren't you?"

"She had quite a crowd already."

He didn't buy that explanation for one moment. "Did you go to your parents'?"

"I told them I had plans, so they went to Kitzbuhel."

"So where did you go?"

She met his eyes defiantly. "I worked, for one thing."

"You could have gone to Molly's last night."

"Well…I had plans." She lowered her eyes to the floor.

"A date?"

"I thought…maybe." She looked up with a face blazing with hurt and anger. "Oh, bloody hell, Remus, you were right here! You couldn't have given me five minutes of your time? Just enough to let me see that you are all right? You made me wait for nearly thirty-six hours!"

"I sent a note…"

"It arrived two hours ago."

"I sent it yesterday!"

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "The Weasleys owl is older than I am, Remus. Maybe even older than you."

He thought of her, alone and worried that something had happened to prevent his return and felt truly despicable. "God, I'm sorry, Nymphadora…you mean you waited, all this time?"

"I wasn't waiting, Remus. I was working, yesterday. And then, last night and today…I mean I knew where you were. I could have found you if I wanted to. I just thought…" She shook her head, sadly. "Well, obviously I assumed too much. So why are you here now?"

"Your Christmas present."

"Oh, yeah, I have one for you, too." Lowering her voice, she muttered, "I guess I'm glad now that I didn't go for a really romantic one."

"Tonks..." He stopped short at the look of rage she threw at him.

"Don't start that shit, Lupin." She took a deep breath, and continued, in a calmer tone, "Why don't you sit down, and I'll make some hot cocoa, and we will open presents and you can get back to…whatever."

He looked at her pleadingly and she glared back at him, turning toward the kitchen. There were a few minutes of eerie silence, and then he heard her moving about, closing cabinet doors a lot harder than was necessary. With a weary sigh, he sat down on her couch. It occurred to him a few minutes later that he had rather expected to find his old quilt draped across the back of it, but it was nowhere to be seen. In spite of his curiosity, he resisted the urge to search for it in her bedroom. There was, however, a richly coloured afghan lying on a comfortable-looking armchair. He thought he recognized Molly's workmanship. He was, after all, wearing one of her creations at the moment: a sturdy and comfortable moss-green jumper, one of three that she had presented him with that morning.

Tonks entered the room a few moments later with a tray. After placing it on the table, she sat in the armchair, gathering up the afghan and putting it on her lap. He was more than a little disappointed that she hadn't sat next to him on the couch.

"I made mulled wine instead of hot chocolate. I figured we could both use a drink. My mum sent over these apple tarts."

"Perfect.' Remus realized that he had missed her mother's cooking nearly as much as Molly's. He tried to turn the conversation toward the season. "Where's your tree?"

"Didn't bother. Not in the mood."

Guilt ate at him. "I really wish you had come to the Weasleys."

"Well, then, you should have told me that earlier. But I wasn't about to just show up."

He picked up his warm mug from the tray, inhaling the rich, spicy scent. Looking at her over the rim, he said, "Happy Christmas, Nymphadora."

"Happy Christmas, Remus. I suppose I'd better open this, hadn't I?"

"You don't have to. It's not much…"

She stared at the tissue-paper wrapped package for a long time, as if the secrets to the universe were buried within it, and she was nervous about learning them. Finally, she tore into it, to reveal… "A book. Wow. Thank you, Remus. I'm sure I'll enjoy this."
He was not fooled by the manufactured enthusiasm in her voice. He felt she deserved an explanation. "It's really quite funny, Nymphadora. I…Someone had it, where I have been…and it really helped me keep my sanity, it was a marvelous diversion. I kept thinking of you while I read it."

Tonks had been reading the inside flap. "A lonely single girl, eh? And commitment-phobic men. Right up my alley. And you thought of me, how sweet. Thanks, Remus," she said acidly.

"I didn't mean I thought of you as the character! I mean, I just thought you would find it funny. Apparently it has gotten really popular…"

"With Muggles."

"Well, yes, the woman who loaned it to me was…is a Muggle."

This got her attention. "A Muggle? Among the werewolves?"

"She is a werewolf. But she is, or was a Muggle. She was attacked on a camping trip last spring. She tried to hide it from her family and friends, but her boyfriend kicked her out of their flat for being 'barking mad', and then she lost her job for missed days. Her mother took her in for a while, but accused her of having a drug addiction. She told her she couldn't live there unless she went into a treatment programme, which would take a month, and well, obviously that would be impossible. So eventually she made her way to us…or rather, them."

"How old is she?" Tonks asked, conversationally.

"Early thirties; thirty-one, I think."

"What is her name?"

"Julie."

"So…you did find a she-wolf, after all."

"I know, I already told you she's a…" It took him a moment to notice the sarcasm in her voice. "Oh. No, it's not like that. You don't really think…"

Tonks just kept staring at him deliberately.

His voice hardened. "You must not know me very well after all, Tonks."

Tonks finally spoke again, breezily. "She sounds just perfect for you Remus. Closer to your age, so much in common, and you in a position to take care of her. I don't imagine she has an easy time of it amongst the wizards and werewolves."

He tried not to sound defensive. "As a matter of fact, no she doesn't. She nearly died."

"Did you rescue her, Remus?"

"Err…yeah, actually."

"Did you heal her wounds?" Her eyes narrowed.

"Yes. I did."

"She must have stuck fairly close to you after that."

He was baffled by her unmistakable and irrational display of jealousy. "Christ, Nymphadora, where are you coming up with all of this? I have made a friend; I helped someone. What is wrong with that?"

"You spent all those months telling me how wrong you are for me. It seems you have found someone better for yourself. I wonder what she looks like?" She continued to look into his eyes unflinchingly.

"Get the hell out of my head, Nymphadora! I expected better of you."

There was no apology in her eyes. "I am just trying to understand how you could have just left me here wondering…"

His voice grew low, dangerous. "Let's be perfectly clear here. I never promised you I would come running back to you. And for that matter, we are not a couple, are we? If I had gotten involved with…Which I haven't…" He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, exasperated. "Oh, god, how could you, after everything, suspect…"

She stood up, hands on her hips and spat, "Remus, for crying out loud! 'How could I, after everything?' Everything, is me, throwing myself at you over and over, and continually being rejected. Everything is my telling you that I love you, time after time, and never hearing it in return. I have nothing to hold on to except my stubborn faith in you, Remus!"

Her words cut him to the bone. "I haven't rejected you, Nymphadora. You…there's nothing wrong with you. It's my problem. Even if I were to declare my love for you right now…Well, it wouldn't change anything. I didn't come yesterday because I wanted to make it easier for you, in the end. I meant to, I wanted to, but…Good lord, look what I have done to you already!"

"This," she said, gesturing toward her pale face and emaciated body, "Isn't your fault!"

"Bullshit. Tell me about your new Patronus, Nymphadora."

Her eyes widened and she grew impossibly paler. "Snape said something to you, didn't he?"

"No, as a matter of fact. Harry did."

With a sigh, she sat down on the opposite end of the couch, placing her head in her hands.

He continued, "But everybody in the Order has to know, don't they? I can only be grateful that I didn't run into Mad-Eye on this trip. He would have raked me over the coals."

She looked up at him with confusion in her eyes. "Why would you say that? Mad-Eye knows, and he's never said anything. Only Snape was rude enough to comment on it. He knew what it meant; he called it weak, and it was a thinly veiled insult to you."

"Well, Snape has never been able to pass up the opportunity to insult me. I don't really let it bother me. Mad-Eye, on the other hand might have really caused problems. He's never forgiven me for 'defiling' you in the first place."

"Is that what you think? Funny, he seemed to be on our side, to me."

"He's not my biggest fan. I lived with him, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember, and if you think he dislikes you…" She shook her head, and continued, "I guess you do tend to think the worst of people. You really ought to go and see him. I'll bet he is almost as worried about you as I am."

"Whatever. I think you and I know two different Alastor Moodys. But we've gotten off the point. I want to hear about your Patronus. I'd like to see it, actually."

"I don't think I could manage one right now." She frowned, and then looked at him defiantly. "But it's not weak! I've used it against more Dementors in the last six months than I ever had to with the other one. It chased down a pack of five of them, last August."

With a note of accusation, he said, "So you've known about it that long, then. Why didn't you say anything?"

"I told you I loved you. You didn't need any more pressure."

He ran his hands through his hair and leaned back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. "I am so sorry. You have to understand that if it weren't for the fact that I am…what I am, I would move heaven and earth to be with you. I don't want to be with anybody else. I don't want to go on hurting you. If things were different…" His voice broke, and he closed his eyes.

Her softly spoken words drifted toward him. "You wouldn't be the same person if things were different. Much of what I love about you is a result of the hand you've been dealt. And if things were different, you would have fallen in love and had a family years ago. I reckon you'd have been one of my teachers. You would never have looked twice at someone like me."

He sat up and turned to her. "How could anyone not look at you, Nymphadora? You're mesmerizing." He slid across the couch and drew her into his arms, kissing the top of her head. With a sigh, she tucked her head into the crook of his neck. His collar grew damp as she cried silently, and he tightened his hold on her. After taking a deep breath, she surprised him by pulling away.

"You'd better open your present, then, Remus." She rose and brought back a large, colorfully wrapped box from her entry table. Inside was a beautifully wrought gray wool travelling cloak.

He touched it with reverence. "I don't think I've ever had anything finer," he whispered.

"Its really quite warm," she said, "I've charmed it. I realize that you can't…well, it would be stolen if you wore it as it is now."

With a wave of her wand, it completely transformed. Now, it looked shabby and inadequate, with a large dark stain on the lapel. "It's sort of a reverse glamour spell," she explained. It will keep you just as warm as before, but nobody would want to take it."

He laughed softly. "I thought you said it wasn't romantic."

"A coat could never romantic, Remus."

"It could if someone put as much thought into it as you did." He reached out to touch her cheek. "I know it seems like I did not put a lot of thought into your gift, but once you read it, I'm sure you'll find…I wanted to know that you had something to laugh about, and there are references to Jane Austen, who I know you like. At any rate, I did not have much time or opportunity to shop for you. If you only knew…I mean, I spent so much of my time with Julie talking about you."

With a wry laugh, she said, "I'm sure you did."

"You have nothing to worry about, Dora."

"I have a lot to worry about, Moony."

He reached out to embrace her again, leaning down to brush his lips over hers. With a shiver, and a small sigh, she deepened the kiss, but then pulled away, looking at him with eyes full of regret.

"I can't…It hurts too much, Remus. I love you. I doubt if I'll ever stop loving you. I just…" She crossed her arms tightly, and tucked her legs under her body.

After a moment, she continued. "Come back. When you're done with this, come back, and we'll see. I'm tired of being something that you regret. I deserve…" She waved her hand into the air. "I shouldn't be your dirty little secret, Remus. I know that you love me. I am more sure of it than I am of nearly anything. I don't see anything wrong with our being together. But you do, and until I can convince you that we have nothing to hide, well…I don't want to settle for your crumbs any more."

"Nymphadora…" He had so much that he wanted to say, but he didn't see how any of it could help the situation. He knew it was his own fault, after all.

"Be safe, Remus. Come back. You're needed."

"I wish…I'll miss you. Be safe."

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Tonks wondered if it were possible to be more uncomfortable. She was lying nearly naked on a table in the same room as her mother. Her mother was in the same position, however, and she seemed to be quite content. Not only that, she seemed to think that this ought to be an enjoyable experience for her daughter. The stated purpose of this ordeal was a deep tissue massage, which sounded nice in theory, but in fact, the only person whose hands she wanted on her body was Remus. It didn't help that the person who was torturing her body with such glee was a large Swedish witch with an enormous hairy mole on her chin. Her mother had managed to end up with a Nordic god for a masseuse, of course, and she was flirting outrageously.

Immediately following the massage, she got to look forward to having some sort of smelly potion rubbed vigorously into her skin, and then to be tightly bound by something that resembled Spell-o-tape, and left there to sweat. The whole bizarre process was supposed to make your skin glow, your thighs shrink, and, oh, yeah, relax you. Tonks didn't think she would be able to relax much while being forced to practice Occlumency, particularly not while sweating. After the whole thing was done, other tortures awaited. She was going to have her face steamed and picked at, with more smelly potions put on it, including one that froze your face into a grimace for fifteen minutes or so. And more Occlumency, she was sure. Then they were going to teach her about cosmetics and glamour spells, which was, frankly, humiliating at her age. Finally, they were going to start on her hair, and this wasn't the type of place that would agree to dye it pink. And more Occlumency, because her mother was a ruthless, sneaky Slytherin. And this was supposed to be a fun day for her. This was, in fact, her Christmas present.

Two hours later, Tonks was fully clothed and in a much better mood. Her mother was happy, gushing, in fact over the difference in her daughter's appearance. Tonks would never have admitted it out loud, but she did see a slight difference in her skin, and the haircut, while not that drastic of a change from the way she had been wearing it, was an improvement. If they thought, however, that she would apply all these cosmetics on a daily basis, they were sadly mistaken. Although her sympathy for people who could not alter their appearance had increased over the last six months, her distaste for what she perceived as artifice had not lessened very much at all.

But her mother was happy, so she might stop nagging, for a few weeks at least.

The ordeal was not completely done, however. There was a long lunch looming at the end of it all, and, of course, more Occlumency. The inquisition began shortly after salad was served.

"Darling, I can't get over how lovely you look. We should do this more often. I've had such fun."

"Me too, Mum."

"So, how is work?"

"You don't want to know."

"Yes I do, darling, you know I do."

"You've read the papers, haven't you? You know the kinds of things I am dealing with."

"Well, yes, but surely you must get some satisfaction from the fact that you are doing something about it, that you are helping people. And you are primarily guarding the school, so you haven't had to deal with the really gruesome crimes."

"Yes, I have, actually. And I can't feel good about helping people when we haven't actually caught anyone, can I?"

"Well, you're keeping those children safe, and that's very important."

Shortly after this, their entrees were placed in front of them, and Andromeda started up again.

"So, how have you been otherwise, darling? Do you still like your new flat?"

"Oh, yeah, it's great."

"It must be a little lonely up there when all of your old friends are living in London."

"I can get to London in seconds, Mum."

"Well, of course you can, darling, but I have found that when you move, you see a lot less of your loved ones."

"Well, I've been really busy."

"Look how little we've seen of you since you moved..."

"I'm sorry Mum, but with work, and the…er, other job…"

"And I've been so worried about you. I mean, what mother wouldn't, you've just wasted away…"

"Really Mum, I've just been working too much, and it's been sort of depressing…"

"I know that you've had a bad time of it, losing Sirius and Archie in the same summer, but that was months ago and you seem to be getting worse, not better…"

"I'm just tired, Mum."

"And you've been so non-communicative, that I have come to the conclusion that it must be something else." She looked at Tonks with one eyebrow raised, waiting.

"I'm just tired," Tonks repeated.

"Something like…man trouble?"

Oh, shite, here we go again. "Mum, really…"

"Or…girl trouble?"

"Mum!"

"Man trouble, then."

"I didn't say that!"

"So was it just your average dumping or was it worse? Did someone cheat on you?"

"I'm not going to talk about this."

"Worse than cheating? Did he get hurt, or…" Andromeda's eyes widened. "Nymphadora, was it…Sirius?"

"Mother!"

"It was a valid question."

"No, it wasn't," she replied with clenched teeth.

"Not Sirius, then."

"Mummy, please, for the love of magic, please, stop this." She looked at her mother pleadingly, and Andromeda stared back at her, with speculation still in her eyes. The waiter came back to refill their drinks, and they broke their impromptu staring contest.

Tonks began to tuck into her ham and cheese sandwich in earnest, while Andromeda sipped her coffee, lost in thought. Finally she set her cup down, took a deep breath and started on her own grilled halibut and vegetables.

"So, darling, have you got heard any interesting news lately?"

Tonks felt such gratitude for the change in subject that she searched her mind, trying to remember any recent contact she had had with old family friends, but she drew a blank. She had been so desperate for news of Remus, that she had had little patience for other kinds of gossip. There had been no news about him since his depressing visit over Christmas, other than a passing comment the last time that she met with Dumbledore, who mentioned he had successfully returned to the wolves, and had made little progress.

"No, nothing I can think of, Mum."

"Oh! I've been meaning to ask, darling, have you heard anything about how Remus Lupin is doing? I haven't heard anything in months…"

There was no way that Andromeda had picked up the idea of Remus at random. Tonks had let her guard down in her worry over Remus and left her mind open. Furiously, she said, "Mum, you promised!"

"What did I promise, Nymphadora?"

"Not to…" She realized, by the genuine confusion on her mother's face, that this had nothing to do with Legilimency. But Tonks was not about to confess that she thought that her mother had looked into her mind and found Remus there. Andromeda was no fool. Tonks' childhood had forced her to become quite an expert on hasty excuses and distractions, so she said, "Not to try and set me up with anyone."

"Set you up? When did I promise…With Remus Lupin? I'm not trying to set you up with Remus! Wherever did you get that idea?"

"Everybody else is," she grumbled, and it was true, in a way. Molly was trying to help and Sirius had tried, and even Mad-eye had been helpful.

Andromeda snorted. "Well, they obviously don't know you very well. I could come up with twenty more suitable…He's not your type at all! I mean he's lovely, really, but…And you're not his type, either, I'm sure."

Anxious to move past her mother's disquieting observations about she and Remus' incompatibility, Tonks tried to digress further. "Tell me about it, it's annoying, really! I mean I'm perfectly capable of finding a bloke on my own. I work with dozens of men, with both my jobs, and now I see all of the people who visit Hogsmeade, and a whole school full of lovely young men just on the verge of seventeen…"

"Nymphadora!"

"Just joking, Mum!" Certain that the subject of Remus had been sufficiently dismissed, Nymphadora could not resist one last jab. "Anyway, you know I've just been waiting around so I could seduce 'The Boy who Lived'. He'll be seventeen in six months, and I've been ticking the days off my calendar." She grinned wickedly, and Andromeda burst out laughing.

The meal continued pleasantly, and Tonks finally began to relax and enjoy her mother's company. Just as Andromeda finished signing the bill, however, she said, "So you never did answer my question. Have you heard anything about Remus? I have been quite worried about him."

"Oh, right. I heard he was fine as of the beginning of January. You really should talk to Molly, though. He stayed at their house over Christmas."

"I'll do that, thanks. She promised me that we could swap a few recipes, so I've been meaning to visit her, anyway."

Tonks began to mentally congratulate herself on her expert handling of her mother as they left the restaurant. Andromeda tried to talk her into some shopping, but Tonks did not think she could handle having her wardrobe made over on the same day that her head and body had been. They embraced their good byes in front of the restaurant.

Just as she turned away, Andromeda said, "Oh, darling, I meant to ask, earlier; did I ever promise not to set you up with anyone?"

"Didn't you?"

"Why on earth would any mother have promised her daughter not to try to meddle in her love life? It's one of our greatest pleasures, after all. And necessary, if she ever hopes to have grandchildren."

"I guess it was just wishful thinking, then, Mum."

Andromeda's shrewd look and raised eyebrow told her daughter that she was not buying it for a minute.

"Bye, Mum. Thanks for everything. I love you."

"I love you too, darling."

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Remus had not had any trouble adopting a defeated attitude when he rejoined his pack. Many others had left temporarily, attempting to reconnect with their family members, and most had returned with the same profound sadness that Remus carried with him. They had been taunted mercilessly by the other wolves for clinging to their old lives, and Remus knew that the odds of their repeating the ordeal would lessen with each passing year, until they were firmly and irrevocably entrenched in their new 'family.' It made his task even more difficult. He kept trying, though, and began to sense a weakening in the resolve of a few of those on the outskirts, who had not had the stomach to witness some of the savagery that took place on a regular basis. Then, on the second full moon of the New Year, something unexpected happened. One of Greyback's most trusted betas began to lose faith in his master. In an irrational display of anger, Fenrir had deliberately and brutally murdered the sister of the beta in question, bringing her body back with him as a lesson to all those who would challenge him. The werewolf had done a marvelous job of controlling his anger, showing Greyback the submissive obedience that he had required. But Lupin, by using Legilimency, had been able to witness the man's loyalty draining away. He then made a couple of very subtle approaches, and came away with reason to remain hopeful.

His friendship with the Muggle werewolf, Julie, continued to deepen. She had been one of the many who had spent the holidays with her family, and it had not gone well. He, in a moment of weakness, admitted that things had not gone well with Tonks, and that their future together seemed questionable. He had never been able to properly explain his present situation to her, because he could not reveal his assignment. She was under the impression that Tonks was simply a former girlfriend whom he had left behind when he had decided to join the wolves.

One night, in February, while he slept fitfully in a quiet corner of a large cave, he dreamed of Nymphadora. This was nothing unusual in itself, but the dream was much more vivid than normal. He could have sworn that he felt her hands on him, and the warmth of her body seemed impossibly real. Finally it occurred to him that there was something wrong. Something didn't fit, didn't feel right…didn't smell right. This wasn't Nymphadora, but the hands were very real, sliding up and down his body, fluttering over his fly, tracing the length of him. His eyes opened and he turned over. Julie nuzzled his neck, murmuring his name. He sat up abruptly.

"Julie?"

"Mmm." She reached up to run her hands over his chest, where his heart was pounding erratically.

"What are you…"

"I want you, Remus."

"I can't…"

"Kiss me." She rose into a sitting position and slid her arms around his neck, pulling his head toward her mouth.

He disentangled her arms. "Julie, no. I really can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm…not…available."

"That girl, the one you talked about?

"Yes, her."

"But you left her. You're here now."

"That doesn't mean I've gotten over it."

Her eyes started to fill with tears, and she turned away, muttering, "No, I reckon I would have a hard time living up to a shape-shifter, wouldn't I?"

"It's not that, Julie," He reached out to touch her face, meaning to comfort her, but it made her angry.

In a low, bitter voice, she said, "You know you're just fooling yourself Remus. You're never going to be able to go back. This is all there is. This is your life. There's nothing left back there, and I'm here; I'm falling in love with you. We could be good together; we're the same. We could make a life, here, or we could leave together, somewhere where nobody knows what we are.

"I have to stay here Julie. I have to stay for a while; there is something important that I have to do, but then I will go. And when I go, I will go back to Tonks. You don't have to stay here. You could have a different life. There are people that can help you, people like me. I can take you with me, but not to be together. I'm sorry if I misled you."

"You didn't. I reckon I misled myself. When are you going to go?"

"I don't know. But I will talk to you first, Julie. I won't leave you here alone."

With a sad smile she slipped away into the night, and Remus lay back against his conjured mattress, missing her warmth. His already overstuffed conscience took on a few more helpings of guilt and regret.

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Damn it, this book is funny. In fact it's bloody brilliant. Tonks was about halfway through Remus' Christmas gift. She had ignored it out of principle for over a month, but she had had trouble sleeping the night before and picked it up out of desperation. Tonight she found herself rushing home from work in anticipation of finishing it. She set it down on the couch, marking her place with a blank piece of parchment she had found in the back, and got up to pour another glass of wine. The heroine was a bit of a drinker, and Tonks found that reading it with a slight buzz made it even funnier. She was sorely tempted to take up smoking, just to see what all the fuss was about.

Wine in hand, she wrapped herself in Molly's afghan and picked up the book again. She saved Remus' quilt for really desperate occasions. It was too easy to rely on it for comfort, but in the end, it always made her sad when she had to take it off. Molly's afghan was equally comforting, beautiful to look at, and woven with love. Molly had also sent a beautiful rainbow-colored hat and scarf, with a very sweet note saying that the yarn had brought Tonks to mind when she came across it last summer. Putting them on always cheered her up, in addition to bringing color to her cheeks.

She turned to a new chapter. Remus had insisted that the main character didn't remind him of her, but she did find more than a few parallels. The heroine tended to fall on her face verbally rather than physically, but the embarrassment that she suffered was amusingly familiar.

As the wine began to blur her vision, she used the folded piece of parchment to underline the sentence she was reading. It was actually odd, when she thought of it, that Remus had forgotten about this piece of parchment. She didn't imagine that parchment was easy to come by where he was. A Patronus message would have been difficult to manage in secret, so he ought to have treated this piece of parchment with a little more care. She wondered if he had ever had to transfigure other objects into parchment in order to send messages to the Order.

After reading a few more lines, her curiosity overcame her interest in the book. She picked up her wand and waved it over the parchment, uttering the spell that would reveal a transfigured object. Nothing happened. With a sigh, and another drink of wine, she continued reading. Eventually, her eyes became too droopy to continue with her book, so she marked its place, set it down, and got ready for bed. Tonight she was feeling particularly vulnerable, so she wrapped herself up in the quilt just before she laid her head on the pillow. A few minutes later, she had drifted off.

Her bladder woke her up at about three in the morning, and after relieving it, she padded over to the kitchen to get a glass of water. On the way back to her room, she noticed the book sitting on her end table, and something that she had just dreamed about clicked into place.

With trembling hands, she opened the book and removed the piece of parchment.

John, she thought, and by the light of the waxing moon, she saw words begin to take shape on the parchment, with her name standing out on the very top.

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A/N: I hope I caught your attention there!

As I mentioned before, I had the plot of this chapter planned out in my head weeks ago, but it ended up taking a few side trips along the way. I went away to Mexico since my last posting, and had no access to computers, and brilliant ideas about this chapter keptbattering my brain. (You would think that gorgeous scenery, heavenly food, romance, and pina coladas would have pushed the Harry Potterverse out of my head, but it didn't happen) I didn't even bring a notebook to write them all down, butI think I remembered them well enough.

Please, let me know what you think, and thanks for sticking with such a slow updater.