Part Two

"Doesn't it sound lovely, Remus?" Tonks asked in a breathy voice that seemed to have lost some of the bone-tired quality. Her hand trailed from his thigh to his waist, then around to his back, stopping its ascent to stroke the hair at the nape of his neck. "Just you and me at a cosy bed and breakfast, with champagne and chocolate covered strawberries, and no wireless or newspapers or owls to interrupt with bad news."

For an instant, Remus closed his eyes and pictured it. Lovely was the understatement of the age if it described what it would be to spend his last days before the mission in peace and comfort, making love with Nymphadora, giving neither thought nor fear to Dark Creature or Death Eater. They would be as they had been last night, before everything changed, and would continue to be so though separated by this coming ordeal.

At a clinking, as of glass, Remus' eyes snapped open. Tonks had taken a drink and accidentally knocked her teacup against the Wolfsbane Potion bottle. Remus blinked as reality forced itself painfully into the place the fantasy had occupied.

Nothing had changed. It had always been this way.

Heart in his throat, he rasped, "It's a dream, Tonks."

"I know." Tonks heaved a sigh. "We've work to do." Wrapping her arms around his neck, she leant into him. Her lips brushed his skin as she said, "But I'm glad we've a wedding to look forward to when things are bleak like this."

A smile formed on Remus' face before he could check the impulse.

Tonks hugged him tightly and pressed another kiss to his cheek. "God, I love being able to say those things."

Not as much as he loved hearing them.

Must he really end this? The prospect of marriage clearly had a better effect on Tonks than the idle words of comfort he'd have offered if she were merely a colleague. He could only imagine how it would benefit him to have a wedding to look forward to. Tonks had told him last night she would wait for whatever it was he had to do.

But she'd promised blind – as had he. If Remus had known where Dumbledore wanted to send him, he never would have let Tonks make that offer, never would have let himself dream – much less speak – of allowing her to make it.

Face burning, he dropped his gaze in shame that he'd considered asking her to wait for him. Tonks was a beautiful young Auror whose efforts in this war would lead to promotions and respect and status in the Wizarding world, and could have any man she wanted. He really was no better off than the other lycanthropes, except that he'd been fortunate enough to know Dumbledore, and make charitable friends.

Eyes still fixed on the floor, Remus placed his hands over Tonks' wrists and gently pulled her arms from around him. Releasing her, he pushed his chair back from the table and stood stiffly, whether from the waxing moon or discomfort with the situation, he did not know. He turned and strode to the fireplace, skin prickling and heartbeat accelerating as he felt her eyes following his every move. He leant against the aged mahogany mantle, taking a moment to breathe and collect himself.

"There won't be a wedding, Tonks."

For a long time the only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock. The ceiling creaked as the residents of the Burrow moved about upstairs. Remus had almost forgotten where they were and that they were not truly alone. Molly had left him to comfort Tonks and mend what she thought to be a break in their relationship. Would she have gone if she'd known he was making the break?

"D'you mean," Tonks said, "you'd rather something private, or…" Voice dropping to barely above a whisper, she asked, "…or you don't want to be married at all?"

Remus closed his eyes and found himself resting more of his weight against the mantel. "It's not a matter of wanting." His hand balled into a fist as he cursed his need to put himself in a good light even as he broke her heart. "It's…we can't. I can't."

"There's a law?"

Her small voice sent Remus' heart plunging to the pit of his stomach. Merlin – Tonks trusted him so completely that it did not occur to her that he would call off their almost-engagement of his own accord.

Would it be easier on her if he approached it from that angle? It was something they would have discussed at some point regardless, whether this mission had existed or not.

Turning again, he found Tonks sitting the wrong way in her chair, one leg tucked underneath her, fingers clutching the top rung of the ladder back. Her lower lip – that soft, welcoming lip upon which he'd bestowed lingering kisses – was caught between her teeth. She peered at him through her messy fringe, wrinkled robes she'd worn for two days sliding up her arms and pooling around her slender frame, and she looked young. So very young. Too young to have her heart broken.

Especially not by him.

Again unable to meet her unblinking, inquisitive, trusting gaze, he pushed away from the mantel and began to pace.

"The Umbridge laws don't allow me to work in the attempt to push undesirables like me out of respectable society," said Remus in an unintentionally professorial tone, trying to ignore Tonks' sharp intake of breath at the word undesirables. "The last thing they'll allow is for me to integrate by marrying – no less a Ministry employee."

"But there's no actual law?"

"No…" He drew out the word as he stopped in his tracks. "But—"

The legs of her chair screeched as Tonks stood suddenly, shaking her head as though to cast off a mental haze.

"Why're you worrying about this right now? We've just had a crap day, and we're completely buggered…Let's just go home and go to bed."

Before Remus could react, she grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together.

"Maybe when we wake we can finish what we started last night, yeah?"

As she moved for the door, Remus remained still and let his clammy fingers slide from her grip.

"I can't go…" He started to say home, but caught himself. "I can't go to yours. I can't stay with you anymore."

Tonks went rigid. "Oh my God!" She spun back to him and clutched the front of his jumper. "Remus, did Dumbledore give you that assignment? S'that what you've been trying to tell me?"

This was the moment – he should tell her and have done with it. But he'd never been able to apply that method to drinking the foul-tasting Wolfsbane Potion, and when Remus opened his mouth, the thought of the mission and all it entailed threatened to suffocate him. He would never hold himself together to do what he must if he talked about it.

And he knew Tonks, knew she would never accept his mission as an excuse. She would say she didn't care. She couldn't care – she didn't understand. And he didn't want her to understand this, to think of him living as he would…

This wasn't about the mission anyway. He never should have gone here. He was what he was, whether he lived among wizards or werewolves. He wasn't enough for Tonks.

"We've been dreaming, Tonks. A beautiful dream. But every dream's got to end. It's time to wake up."

Tonks hands fell to her sides. "You're breaking up with me?"

Remus swallowed hard, a bitter taste not unlike that of Wolfsbane Potion burning his throat. "I'm sorry."

Tonks gave a puff of mirthless laughter. "You're sorry for calling off an engagement."

"For everything."

"You didn't seem at all sorry last night. You said you couldn't wait to get married."

Her gaze was challenging, piercing, and Remus couldn't meet it. But as his eyes darted everywhere but at her, Tonks brought her hands up to his face.

"You talked about kids, Remus. Our kids."

Remus flinched away from her touch, and he glimpsed her stricken expression just before it became a glower.

"Don't you have anything to say to that?" she demanded.

It came as somewhat of a relief to see her frustration boil out. She should be angry with him for doing this to her, and it might help her to move on more quickly. He could think of nothing to say other than to apologise again, but from upstairs came more creaking sounds.

"We should continue this outside," said Remus.

Though light broke in wan beams through the window shades, it was difficult to make out the porch steps. Remus took out his wand, but before he could cast a lumos charm, a gong-like sound and a muttered curse indicated Tonks had stumbled over one of the rusty cauldrons that littered the ground.

"I'm sorry," said Remus, reaching for her instinctively and catching her elbow.

"Not your fault," Tonks hissed, jerking away from him. Instantly she cooled, raking her fingers through her unruly hair and heaving a deep sigh as she leant against the house. "Look, Remus, just pretend I didn't say all that rot about eloping. You know how my mouth runs with stuff I don't mean when I'm ti—"

"But you do mean it," Remus quietly broke in. "You don't want to run away, but you do want to get married, sooner rather than later."

"I can wait." Tonks stepped toward him. "As long as you want."

He turned from her. "I can't give you that life. You deserve someone who can."

"Someone who—?"

Remus had descended the steps and started into the yard, but Tonks tripped after him and stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder. "I thought you might get cold feet, but I didn't think it'd be this soon."

Though it was totally out of line, Remusfelt a pang. "You see? I've never done anything to make you confident that I'd go through with a decision like this."

"Dammit, Remus, we're talking about marriage! Don't flatter yourself that you're the only person who's had doubts about that!"

Tonks' chest heaved with quick, shallow breaths that matched the pumping of Remus' heart, then her shoulders sagged as though she'd been deflated.

"What I mean to say," she said in a controlled tone, "is that we've made a lot of big decisions in the past few days. I've asked questions too – whether this is the right time, whether I've pushed you too hard. What you're doing now makes me think I have, and I'm sor—"

"You didn't push," Remus interrupted, shoving his hands deep into his trouser pockets. He nudged her gently with his elbow, then turned to walk further into the yard. As Tonks fell into step with him, he continued, "But that is precisely the problem. You were injured, we were both grieving…"

"Are," Tonks corrected. "We're still grieving. Especially you."

Remus squelched the thought that if Sirius knew what he was doing right now, he'd kill him. He ran a hand over his unshaven cheek and recalled Molly's words.

"When people face life and death situations every day, they make decisions too quickly that they would have taken more time to consider—"

"Speak for yourself," Tonks cut him off. "I've taken more time than I needed to be sure about you. Ten months. Longer."

Remus swallowed and again tasted bitterness. She'd given him ten months, almost a year of her life, moving at his pace, and getting nothing from it but this. Ten months during which she could have met a suitable wizard.

"We've come a long way since we started fancying each other," Tonks said, more gently. "We've worked through issues. Made a lot of really beautiful memories."

There was a reverent quality to her voice at the last, and Remus looked and saw a lovely smile on her heart-shaped face. He smiled too, and Tonks was so beautiful in the moonlight, remembering times spent with him, that when she sidled closer and twined her arm with his he could not think about moving away.

"No one but you could top that surprise birthday," she whispered.

"I never will."

He'd taken her to the Shrieking Shack. She'd dubbed it the Snogging Shack.

But a name didn't change a thing.

It had always been the Shrieking Shack, and it always would be.

"I'll cherish the memory always." Remus murmured as they halted at the top of the hill overlooking the village of Ottery-St. Catchpole. "Every moment with you."

Her hand slid down to hold his as she moved to stand just in front of him. "I'm glad you'll cherish them always. But there are more where those came from."

Remus could not stop himself from bringing his hands to slide inside her robes, to settle on her hips.

Just one more.

He barely touched his mouth to hers, lingering only enough to taste her longing.

Tonks drew back. "Do you cherish things by throwing them away?" Her voice was raw as she pummelled him with questions. "What's changed since last night? What in bloody hell are you keeping from me?"

"It's what I'm keeping you from."

"Bollocks." Tonks stalked around him, hunching her shoulders as she folded her arms. "You can't spare a girl's feelings when you're breaking her heart. If you've let your emotions run away with you because of Sirius, just. bloody. say so."

"It's not that," said Remus in a lame attempt at honesty.

"Then what is it?" She spun to face him.

Merlin. His hands hung helplessly at his sides. He was doing this badly.

Tonks was undeniably angry, but somehow Remus had underestimated the force of that emotion. Her frustration was deeply rooted in hurt. She looked as if he'd betrayed her – and he supposed he had. Except…

…he had not.

To betray her would be to stay with her when he knew it would hurt her. He was thinking only of what was best for her.

"How can I make it any plainer, Nymphadora?" His own frustration mounted. "I can't be with you because of what I am."

"But you're not—"

"You make me forget, but I can't forget. I've got to be careful and alert, or people could get hurt. You could get hurt."

"So…" The word was choked off by a repressed sob, and Tonks sank down on the long grass.

Some moments passed before Tonks continued, during which Remus hoped against hope that she was not crying. It was wrenching enough to see her that distressed over things he had not caused. But to be the one to push Tonks that far…And all because she loved him, because she wanted him…

"We haven't worked through those issues at all?" Tonks's voice was thick with tears and swelling emotion. "I just…distracted you for a little while?"

Though Remus knew he deserved every harsh word she could fling at him, he hated that she could think he had such low regard for all she'd done for him. He had believed what she did. Just last night, he believed with his whole heart that he could have a real life – a normal life – with Nymphadora.

Would it help her to know about the mission, to know that it made the worst of his fears and self-doubts resurface?

No. He gasped for breath. God no. It was suffocating.

Tonks' eyes, reflecting the moonlight, shone up at him, and he noted the glisten of quiet tears on her cheeks. As Remus knelt, he resisted the impulse to wipe away her tears with his fingers and drew a threadbare handkerchief from his pocket instead. Tonks accepted it, but did not use it.

"My issues do not go away," said Remus. "I thought they could, but they cannot. I'm grateful to you for trying. It's…I shall never have anything like it again."

"You've got it, Remus. You've always got me."

She reached for him, but he rose and stepped back from her. "Do not settle for me simply because you have invested time and energy. I cannot give back what you've given. Someone else can. Any wizard would love you and want to marry you."

"Where are you getting this?" Tonks asked, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"Getting what?"

She drew her knees up and rested her chin on them. "This nutty idea that I'm in love with the idea of being married? I want to marry you, but that doesn't mean I'm going to go looking for a husband if you won't marry me."

"I won't."

Tonks' jaw tensed. "That's it, then? You're giving up? Without pretence of a fight?"

"What do you propose I do, Tonks? Watch you lose your family and your career for me, only to have you realise several years and a few children down the road that I was a giant mistake?"

A cloud – no, a fog had rolled in without his having noticed it – blocked out the moonlight, and Remus could no longer see Tonks' face. He barely made out her profile against the dark ground. Her head had fallen forward, and her hands seemed to be clutching the roots of her hair.

"I don't know what to say to that." Her voice cracked. "How…" She sniffled. "How can you think I'd regret you?"

"How can you eliminate the possibility?"

"Because I love you!" Tonks staggered to her feet. "I don't care how hard it might be – I'd do whatever it took to make it work. And I know you would too. Or I thought you would."

"I love you so much," said Remus stiffly, "that I'd give you up so you can have what you deserve."

She looked as though he'd slapped her, then her temper flared. "So I deserve to be left when I most need you?"

Though stung, Remus forced himself to stay calm. He deserved to sting, after all, even if he was doing his best to be gentle with her. "You deserve a man you won't have to fight the law to marry, or your parents—"

"Or his own stubborn git self?"

Remus felt his own temper reach its breaking point, the tension between them snapped. There it was, laid bare before them. This wasn't about outside forces, as much as outside forces would affect their relationship if it were to continue. But for right now, this was his decision. His choice. Tonks knew it.

"Especially his own stubborn git self," said Remus quietly.

The corners of Tonks' mouth twitched – to smile? To cry? Remus could have done either.

With a small laugh – or a sob, Remus couldn't tell – Tonks whispered, "You're worth fighting for, Remus. I don't want anyone who's not."

"You're wrong," Remus said, starting back toward the house. "Or you will be."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" Tonks called after him – but did not. "What happened to the Marauder who let his friends learn Animagery for him?"

Remus stopped in his tracks. Tonks had appealed to the Marauder before and got her way. He'd given in to her request for a date because she'd asked where his famous Marauder spirit was. If only he'd had a little self-control then, they would not be in this mess now. Why was he always so reckless? Why did he always value the way others saw him above others themselves?

But no more.

"He met a woman," Remus said levelly, not facing her, "and he loved her so much that he realised it was time to stop being selfish and grow up."

"Sirius was right," said Tonks. "You are afraid of commitment."

Remus stood stunned. He was not afraid of commitment. Not at all. His acceptance of the assignment, his determination to see it through, for the good of the Order and the Wizarding world, proved that.

But still he did not turn.

Still he could not tell her.

Tonks Disapparated.

As the crack reverberated in the night air, Remus stared into the space from which she'd just vanished. He pictured her stumbling into her flat, blinded by tears. God, not for him…She deserved so much better than him.

She deserved to know the truth.

He poised to Apparate after her, but as he mustered the energies to do it, he found himself bone tired. He did not have the energy to talk about it tonight, much less to fight Tonks again.

Fight. They'd fought. Not merely disagreed, but really fought. And hurt one another.

And parted without apology or farewell.

As everything threatened to close in around him, Remus shambled back to the Burrow. It was too much to face the mission and face losing Tonks. Too much for him. More importantly, too much for her. She had to work in the morning. The last thing she needed was for him to add to her troubles. She would find out tomorrow, at the meeting. Dumbledore would make a more convincing case than he. Tonks would understand.

She had to.

Inside, Remus' eyes locked on the untouched bottle of Wolfsbane Potion that still stood on the table. He vanished it.

Separation was the only sure way to keep Tonks safe.