Disclaimer: This story is based on the books and characters created and owned by J.K. Rowling, Scholastic and Warner Brothers. No money is being made from this. No infringement on copyright is intended.

AN: Thanks to all those who reviewed.

Against Hope

And when I answered with a lie, oh then,
You dropped your eyes, I felt your utter pain.
I would have died to say the truth to you.
-Sara Teasdale, In a Subway Station

Revelations

Those were dangerous times. Voldemort was slowly gaining power and the Ministry was ill adapted to deal with the inhumane treatment of both wizards and muggles alike. Yet the most dangerous of all times was Christmas. The season had the knack of making happy people, despite the tragedy of the times, feel happier and give sad people more time to envy those better off and contemplate what they lack.

So while the happy ones stayed in their homes, warming themselves before a fire with their loved ones and singing along to frighteningly suggestive ballads on the Wizarding Wireless, the sorriest of the lot went to the local pub to legally- and sometimes illegally- anesthetize themselves with bottled substances.

The pub was almost empty and his entrance went unnoticed. One of the dimly lit corners was occupied by a warlock slumped over a table, surrounded by toppled over bottles. Another wizard was tending the bar.

He spotted her sitting by the bar having a desultory conversation with the pub owner. He claimed the seat beside her, matched Tonks' drink and waited for her to greet him.

She didn't.

Heaving a sigh, he pulled out a cigarette. She used to say something about how smoking was bad for him and he would say something about how fighting in this war was equally bad, if not more so, worse for him.

Recalling a conversation with a woman he wants but couldn't-no, shouldn't- have is equally dangerous but that's beside the point.

It was an old conversation, something he misses now that she merely wrinkled her nose but remained silent as he lighted up.

Tired of waiting for her to acknowledge him, he started in on the topic that had been troubling him all night. "Harry told me your Patronus changed."

She picked up her glass, contemplated the bottom of it before deciding on a refill. "He knows?"

Remus shook his head. "He only saw something four-legged and big and thought it was the other person who transforms into something four-legged and big."

She still hasn't turned towards him, and Remus suppressed the urge to have her face him and shake her. Either that or kiss her until New Year.

He was paralyzed by the direction of his thoughts, made witless by the painful tug in his chest and all he could do was watch, out of the corner of his eye, as she directed herself towards a self-destruction that he felt accountable for. She downed drink after drink with alarming speed and she gradually become clumsier than he thought possible. He signaled for the pub owner to stop giving her drinks, to which she replied with an ugly growl.

The owner raised both hands and turned away.

Deprived, Tonks finally spoke: "So you decided to come and ask me about it?"

He cringed at her short, bitter laugh. He has never heard Tonks be bitter about anything; it wasn't in her nature. She was vivacious, funny and lighthearted. One of the things he loved about her was how she was able to see the good side of every situation. This was what he did to her when they were apart. Still, this was what he would do to her if they were together. There would be endless full moons, and then she would slowly loose her love of life and energy. If they end up together, she would slowly become lifeless, still and bitter at the prejudice of the wizarding world, at the injustice of her fate, and finally, she would become bitter at him.

He believed in it firmly. He was, in no way, good for her.

"How very... professor-like of you, Remus." She continued sarcastically.

"Nymphadora... I, uh... Patronuses change during times of stress and emotional upheavals. Which is why I'm to see how you were doing, that and Molly said you would be spending Christmas alone."

"It's wartime, Remus, stress and emotional upheavals abound. And I'd rather my parents to be safe and in hiding than exposed and next to me just so that I'd have a great ol' time for Christmas." Finally turning towards him, she asked: "Why are you really here?"

Remus weighed the pros and the cons of telling her something that he hasn't even completely admitted to himself.

"Nymphadora, it's been happening for months now and yet, you never mentioned it to me." Remus voice was soft and low, almost pleading.

Tonks slammed the glass on the table and watched it fall off before finally facing Remus

"Following your lead, I guess. About not mentioning things. You know," She hiccupped for a second before continuing, her volume rising. "LETTING ONE FIND OUT ON THE FIELD WHEN SHE ALMOST BLASTED HIS BRAINS OUT."

She faced him on the barstool with her eyes red and wet, her nose runny and it was all he could do not to lean in and embrace her. Their knees bumped each other and Remus gritted his teeth against the contact.

It was him; didn't she see it? THIS was his point exemplified. Being with him would never work because he would inevitably hurt her.

Then instead of the sarcasm she had been using all evening, her tone changed. Her voice became small and weary.

"It's Christmas, Remus. And even if my mind tells me to, I don't wish to be angry at you."

"Nymphadora, I'm sorry."

He didn't realize he had done it- until he felt her hand squeeze back reassuringly- that he had reached out for her hand. He rubbed his thumb against her palm, conveying how he felt, conveying all the things that he could not say.

"Tonks, you see why we can't be together. I'm dangerous. I'm too poor, too old and all together not good for you. You should be with your family or at least at the Weasely's having a good Christmas. I want you to have a chance to have a normal, happy life."

She gave a small laugh. "Too late Remus and you can blame my parents for that. Can't be normal if you're a metamorphmagus. As for happiness..."

She reached out and placed a hand against his cheek, and Remus couldn't help the shiver that passed through him.

"Do you know what I used to think of when I conjure my Patronus? Family vacations spent by the seaside, Quidditch Cups in Hogwarts, a pint of something cold and alcoholic after sending a Death Eater to Azkaban. Now, my thoughts are of you. You make me happy, Remus."

Remus couldn't help his eyes from closing.

"My thoughts are of you as well." He whispered softly before Disapparating.

He was already in his apartment before he opened his eyes.