Author's Note - Okay, I really need suggestions. Please. I'm quickly running out of ideas.

Disclaimer - I don't own Harry Potter. I don't even pretend to. End of discussion.

Chapter 4

Kingsley returned several hours later with the good news that I had been assigned the Hogsmeade job. I was not so happy about the rest.

"They want you to stay for a few more days, and collect information on Inferi."

"They want what?" I stared at him in disbelief. My poor desk would crack down the middle from the weight. A filing cabinet would be a good idea. I made a mental note to get one as soon as possible. "I have to go now, I can't be in London! I won't be able to make myself forget!"

"I know, but I couldn't tell 'the superior' people that."

I sighed, and admitted to myself that he was right. Though only to myself. My mood had not improved much.

Two days had passed and I still had not finished that cursed research paper. I hadn't yet gotten the filing cabinet, and my desk showed it. Instead of only paper, it was now also piled high with thick, ancient books that actually made the wooden legs creak.

I was still working overtime every day. I left the photograph be, but there was a book in front of it now.

I stifled a yawn and pushed my chair back. I needed coffee. The sun was only just setting, but I decided to head for a cafe anyway. It was already later than I normally left, so no one would blame me for going now. I grabbed my report and a few books, deciding I could work on it while I was there.

As I passed the place where the fountain had once stood, I Transfigured my robes into something more suitable for entering a Muggle coffee shop - jeans and a simple white t-shirt. I hid my wand in my pocket and left the Ministry by the visitor's elevator, emerging several minutes later in Muggle London.

A tiny bell tinkled overhead as I entered. It was a small place, but it was my favorite in all of London. There were only a few people at the little tables scattered across the room, and none of them so much as looked up at me.

The way the man behind the counter said "The usual?" spoke to how often I had come here lately.

I sat down at a table in the corner, managing to trip over the leg of my chair and falling into it, drinking my coffee through a straw and scalding my tongue. I spread my books across the table and continued writing. I wasn't worried about the Muggles noticing my quill - half the people here were reading the newspaper with furrowed brows and grim expressions, looking too absorbed in the news to pay me any heed. I recognized most of the people here - a tiny place like this was very hard to simply stumble upon - and some had seen me writing here before. They probably thought I was Amish or something, but whatever.

I looked up a half hour later, the sound of the tinkling bell echoing in my ears. A couple had just entered, holding hands.

And here I was thinking only men in their forties came here, I thought, somewhat bemused.

They ordered coffee and sat own at the table next to mine. They were staring much too intently at each other for them to even notice me watching them.

His eyes are like Remus's...

I found myself wishing that Remus was here. I bit my lip and looked out the window, the opposite direction from the table. The sky was not quite black, as if the very last rays of sunlight were basking the western horizon in their golden aura. The waning moon, cream-yellow and huge, was just rising above the street.

The... moon... I thought stupidly, my eyes fixed upon it unblinkingly.

It was too much. I left the cafe in such a hurry, I accidentally left my quill behind.

I returned to my flat, hoping in vain that I would be able to shift my thoughts from him. I found a new quill and searched through the bookcase for Inferi information. I found some in a dusty volume on the Dark Arts and dark creatures. Flipping towards the back for the index, I paused on a page I had known was there, but had hoped I wouldn't happen across. It had a picture of a werewolf on it. The full moon's rays illuminated a forest clearing. The werewolf's fangs dripped crimson blood. As I watched, it's muzzle lifted to the dark sky in a long and eerie howl.

I slammed the book shut, checking the author. I made a mental note to never buy a book by that guy again.

I put the book forcefully back on the shelf, knocking several others to the floor in the process. Agitated, I picked them up, about to put them back when I realized what they were. One was a book Remus had given me long ago. I had never read it. Another was an old diary.

I studied it's navy cover. I knew it was childish, to write in a diary, but it had been a habit that had stuck through the years. And with a job like mine, not knowing whether I would be alive the next day, I thought of it as a way of making what could be my last thoughts known. I used to write almost every day. But I had lost this diary at least six months before, and hadn't written an entry since.

Curious about how long, I flipped through it's pages until I found the last entry. It didn't say. I must have forgotten the date. I read the entry anyway.

Dear Diary,

I feel like a teenager again. Not like that was so long ago anyway. But I realized today that I'm in love with him.

Wow. That was so corny.

I tripped over that cursed umbrella stand again (WHY doesn't somebody just move it out of the hall?), closed my eyes expecting to fall flat on the floor and have my eardrums implode with my aunt's screaming, and open my eyes a few seconds later to realize that Remus caught me. Mrs. Black was still screaming, though. Our eyes met for a moment. After we managed to get my aunt to shut up, he smiled and said "Be more careful, Nym," and left.

When he used that nickname he gave me, I decided I didn't mind so much, because it was him.

I couldn't get away from him. Everything reminded me of him and made my heart ache as if it had been only yesterday that he had refused to accept the fact that I loved him. Refused to let me.

I needed to talk to Molly.

"Who is it?" Molly's voice was the same frightened one I had heard the last night I had come.

"Tonks," I called through the keyhole.

She let me in, and I sat at the table in the same spot. She seemed to be able to tell just from my face that I needed her motherly support and advice. Molly was quickly filling that role when it came to Remus - I hadn't told my mother about him yet, and I doubted she would approve if I did.

"Tea, dear?"

"Yes, please, if you have any," It was late and I was very sleep-deprived. Tea didn't have as much caffeine as coffee, but with the amount of sugar I added it was almost as good.

As Molly made tea, I remained silent, thinking of how to tell her everything on my mind. My eyes fell upon her clock, perched atop the laundry basket at the end of the table. Only one hand, Arthur's, was visible - the others were all blocked from view, as they were all pointing to Mortal Peril.

Molly set a large, streaming mug in front of me. "You're getting so thin, dear, are you sure you don't want...?"

"I'm sure." I waved away her offer for food. I really had no desire to eat. The tea was only because it was necessary. I normally felt bad about her always cooking something while I sat. I had been brought up to help with such things.

"So the Order's moved?"

Molly nodded and sat down. "It's at a place Dumbledore got, close by... a few blocks away from Number Twelve, brick building, by that alleyway?"

I nodded. I didn't tell her that I had been there a week ago.

"You haven't talked to Remus since, have you?" she asked quietly.

I shook my head. "I've worried for a week straight, though. Do you know what that job Dumbledore gave him was?"

I could see the hesitation in Molly's eyes. "Yes... but..."

"I'll only worry more if I don't know. It has something to do with Greyback, doesn't it?"

"Remus is going to be a spy among the werewolves. They're all with Greyback, you know. He'll be trying to persuade them to turn away from him."

I nearly choked on my tea.

My blood had turned cold. I thought immediately and irresistibly of famous Muggle spies - three of them hanged, one target practice for a firing squad, and one tortured, all without trials.

"I shouldn't have told you." Molly looked wistful, and sympathetic as always.

My face turned to the ceiling, my eyes stinging. "It's just... what if he...?"

I bit my lip, unable to bring myself to voice my worst fear aloud. I thought again of Molly's clock. "Enough. Molly, you haven't said a word about yourself, and I know you're worrying way more than I am..."

"No I'm not." Her voice was choked and clipped, and it almost made me smile at how it completely contradicted her words.

"Yes you are. You've been carrying that clock around, praying every moment that one of the hands won't disappear, that no one will -" I swallowed hard, tears building up at the corners of my eyes. "- die."

We both threw our arms around each other at the same moment, tears falling thick and fast to the floor, each of us hoping we wouldn't have cause to cry this much again.

There was a faint tapping on the window, and we pulled apart. I could barely see the owl there, my vision blurred by tears. I opened the window, and it stuck out it's leg.

I took the roll of parchment, about to hand it to Molly when I saw the writing on the outside. Nymphadora.

It was from him. With trembling fingers I unrolled it. My heart ceased to beat as I read three words.

I leave tomorrow.

A/N - The next chapter has Remus in it! Keep reading! And please review!