Cards on the Table.

Chapter 2: Advice From Those In The Know

Tonks didn't get chance to say anything to Remus. Part of her wanted an empty room so they could thrash it out at once; the other part wanted to hug the people who immediately surrounded them. He'd actually met her eyes for a brief, stomach-churning moment; but before she had time to work out if the expression in them was good, bad or indifferent, Moody had put a firm hand on his arm and taken him aside. She must remember to thank Moody for what he'd said – Molly as well – and pin her ears back for the inevitable lecture on not mixing personal matters with professional ones.

Perhaps she could joke she'd got confused and was practising constant vigour by mistake.

But he'd be right. It was unprofessional. Unwise. Unlikely.

And absolutely bloody stupid when you got caught out.

She watched numbly as Dung weaved a slightly unsteady path up behind Remus and Moody, fumbling in the apparently bottomless pockets of his baggy trousers, and finding what he wanted around knee level. He draped a friendly arm around Remus's shoulders, making him jump, and appeared to offer him what looked like a somewhat bent…cigar.

Moody's magical eye was focused on the ceiling. It had either got stuck again or he just didn't want to look. Remus stared in a somewhat perplexed manner at the cigar, and Dung took advantage of this momentary lapse in concentration to embrace him round the waist.

The congratulatory shake and affectionate squeeze that followed was surely a very bad idea.

Tonks craned forward to try and catch some of what was being said. By Dung. The other two seemed to be rooted to the spot.

"…best o'luck to ye, mate…bit too feisty for me…takes all sorts, eh...always fancy a bit of a smoke meself, afterwards…" He frowned and regarded Remus with an air of bleary-eyed concern. "'Ope ye got some stamina…no offence like...bit pasty lookin'…best quality 'Avana…got 'em cheap off me pal…do ye a good deal on gym stuff an' weights if you're – Ow!"

Tonks thought the look in the blue eyes would probably stop a charging giant dead in its tracks. Dung stepped hurriedly back, rubbing his arm indignantly, the cigar still clutched in his grubby hand. He hesitated a moment before deciding that while his selfless act was being cruelly unappreciated, it was definitely time to go. And quickly. He passed by a laughing Sirius, who twitched the cigar from the apparently nerveless fingers, and pocketed it for himself with a wink of thanks and a pat on top of Dung's head.

Dung's indignant journey to the door took him right by Tonks. He seemed to recognise her at the very last minute.

"Y'know that boyfriend o'yours is right touchy," he said, in injured tones. "Try and do 'im a favour and all I says is –"

"Dung," said Tonks, quietly. "Do you know what happened to the last person who annoyed me?"

"Eh?" He gazed at her from under the tangled mat of ginger hair. "I dunno, do I?"

"Exactly." Tonks smiled pleasantly and waited for it to sink in.

It took a while; it also took a muttered, "…bet she gives 'im 'ell, serve 'im right," which for some reason he seemed to think she couldn't hear but, with a final disgruntled belch and hard-done-by look, Dung took himself off.

Tonks switched her attention back to Remus and Moody.

Sirius had joined them now and she caught him saying something jovial to Remus about cards and tables. At least he'd stopped loudly offering to sell tickets to the next Order meeting, which had been getting right on her nerves. Remus said something brief and obviously pointed to Sirius, who laughed, slapped him on the back and went over to Kingsley and Arthur. There was no peace though; Moody, despite fiddling madly with his eye, was managing to issue instructions at the same time, presumably about the forthcoming duty. Remus nodded calmly, but she thought the tight jaw spoke volumes.

Merlin, what were they going to say to each other on duty if this didn't get sorted?

She became aware someone was stood just behind her, patiently waiting for her attention. Someone who had glowing pink cheeks and a smug little smile on their face.

Clearly some people were having a cracking evening.

"You and Remus then," said Hestia, and giggled in a way Tonks thought shouldn't be allowed unless you were fifteen and had a death wish.

"You kept that quiet! I didn't know you cared. Does he care?"

"Well there's a good chance that after tonight we'll both end up in care together," said Tonks, sourly, which produced further giggles; and she decided to head straight for the upstairs loo at that point because she'd really had enough. Besides she could see Molly hovering anxiously in the background, waiting her turn. And then presumably Remus would want his.

She needed a break. Preferably two weeks in Hawaii.

As a large, wet dog had seemingly ignored a few basic rules of hygiene in the loo, Tonks spent at least ten minutes tidying it up. Thank Merlin Molly hadn't found it like that or there would have been more uproar. The kitchen was quiet and deserted when she got back, apart from a couple of sleepy owls swaying gently on frying pans hanging from the ceiling. A trace of sickly green smoke still hung in the air. She faced the fact that she'd been, in effect, hiding, and it appalled her more than anything else that had gone on.

She didn't do things like that. It wasn't her.

It was this thought which made her go down on her knees in front of the dark cupboard underneath the sink, and ignore the prospect of spiders to whom it was home. Sirius kept his 'Last Resort' bottle of Firewhisky in there; handily ready for both the end of the world and if he wanted something to hit Kreacher on the head with as a farewell gesture.

Just as her hand closed round it, she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. She straightened up hurriedly, whacked her head hard in the process, and just made it to the seat nearest the table as the door flew open and Molly stomped in. The owls awoke with loud protests.

"Oh, there you are, dear." Molly gave her a distracted look and made straight for the sink. "Remind me to give you that recipe for greengage jam later I told you about. I brought it with me specially."

"Er - okay." Tonks tried – and failed – to imagine making greengage jam at the best of times, let alone now, and watched in dull amazement as Molly dropped to her knees and began chucking the contents of the cupboard out.

"Er –" she began again, because surely Molly couldn't be looking for the same thing she had. Only the three of them knew it was there for a start.

That theory was somewhat disproved when Molly stood up with the bottle in her hand.

"I know." Molly put the bottle and two goblets down on the table. "But I need a drop. And I'm sure you do too. Did you hear what that awful man said about Arthur?"

Tonks cast her mind back to try and narrow down the insult Molly was referring to. There'd been so many. She herself was still getting over about twenty at the last count.

"I'm so sorry you got mixed up in all this, Molly," she said feelingly. "And I'm very grateful for what you said. And – no I can't drink all that, I'm on duty. In fact I don't ever drink at all when on duty so –" she pushed the goblet back towards the older woman who was regarding her anxiously "- thanks but I won't." She sighed. "I could really do with one though."

Molly sighed as well. "That wretched man. How he loves to cause trouble. Did you see Remus's face? I couldn't tell how he was feeling, could you?"

Tonks pondered how to answer this one, based on the fact that Remus had recently treated Dung to a Stinging Hex and presumably Sirius to a stinging suggestion. He'd probably been warming up for her.

'Not thrilled,' she said.

'Oh dear.' Molly took a large gulp of whisky, which she choked over slightly and which must have gone straight to her head. Or her brain.

'These things are never straight-forward,' she said. 'But you'll both look back on this and laugh about it one day. Arthur and I – well the tales I could tell you. But before you know it, you're married and the first one is on the way.' She paused. 'Have you thought about children?'

'Not in the last two hours.' Tonks tried hard to keep any hint of sarcasm out of her voice.

Molly looked at her sympathetically. "Perhaps it's all for the best it came out in the open," she said, unconvincingly. "And didn't you say you were going to try and push things a little to see how he felt?"

"I was thinking more in the way of seeing if he wanted to spend time together that wasn't Order business." Tonks smiled bitterly. "Not, 'Hi Remus, I've been charming the roster and behaving like an absolute idiot, and actually what Dung said about your knickers and my interest in them does have some degree of accuracy to it.'"

She stopped seeing Molly's cheeks redden. Brilliant. Now she was embarrassing the woman who'd been so kind to her.

"Molly, I'm sorry –" she started again.

"You haven't done anything wrong, dear." Molly looked at her firmly. "I should imagine it would do Remus a lot of good to hear some of those things."

Tonks felt her eyebrows disappearing in disbelief towards her hairline.

"You think?" she said, unable to keep the irony out of her voice this time, and it appeared Molly did only too well because an awkward silence fell between them. And neither of them could quite work out how to fill it.

Molly fiddled with the stem of her goblet; Tonks plonked her foot on her knee and adjusted the strap round her left ankle boot. Her favourite pair, she loved the silver buckles on the sides and the matching studs embedded round the black heels. She'd made more arrests in these than any of her others.

"You were right about the brown," said Molly, suddenly.

"Sorry?" Tonks took her gaze away from the lovely pointed toes she should have kicked Snape with.

"His jumper. It does look nice." Molly was still twirling the goblet round. "I know you like the cerise one –"

Actually it clashes with every hair colour I can think of.

"- though you haven't worn it for a bit –"

Oh, bugger, she's noticed.

"- but sometimes I wish I'd done you one to match."

His and her jumpers? She's not bloody serious!

Merlin, if getting together with Remus involved looking forward to this sort of thing, she was tempted to sign up for the Witch Nunnery right now.

From the rumours she'd heard, they seemed to have a good time there anyway. They were bang next door to the Druid's Association, who had a reputation they seemed to relish living down to. There'd been frequent complaints about all night raves at both establishments.

The door was flung open without warning and they both jumped slightly as Sirius strode in. The owls, who'd been dropping off again, made their displeasure loudly known.

"Ah! Ladies!" He glanced up at the owls. "Shut it you mangy idiots!"

He walked purposefully towards the sink, and Tonks watched with a slightly hysterical sense of inevitability as he too started to rummage through the cupboard.

"Where the blee -?"

"It's here, Sirius." Molly gestured at the bottle on the table.

"Oh." Sirius looked slightly taken aback, but rallied quickly and topped up the goblet offered to Tonks. He sat down next to Molly, leaving a significant gap between them, and mouthed: "Did you give her my Last Resort Whisky?"

Tonks shook her head. Molly, without looking at him, folded her arms and said matter-of-factly: "Men always hide these things in the obvious place. Now, Sirius, we need to know how you think Remus will take what's gone on?"

Sirius, with an expression that made Tonks want to laugh, because it involved copious eye-rolling and clearly meant: "Poor bloody Arthur," shook his long hair away from his face and looked at her.

"I wouldn't worry too much, Tonks," he said, carelessly. "Moony's got a very forgiving nature. He'll say the right thing to make you feel better."

"Which," said Tonks, through a tightly clenched jaw, "is exactly what I don't want him to do."

"But surely –" Molly started, and Tonks ceased to listen because what she wanted was a totally honest, one-to-one, no-fear-of-being-interrupted conversation. It had never been possible in a house like a railway station. If nothing else, tonight had ensured that certain things were going to have to be faced and dealt with.

The snag was, could they both deal with it and still work together?

"Don't get so wound up about it," said Sirius with a shrug of his shoulders. "Moony only got really narked when Snape had a go at you. He was laughing his head off up till then. Besides, it's the best night I've had for ages."

Whether it was his tone, or his last words which implied everyone's feelings could get shredded in public as long as he could watch, Tonks didn't know. Most probably it was her own guilt rising to the surface which made her voice low and angry.

"As long as you're entertained everything's fine then?"

"Oh, come on Tonks! Where's your sense of humour?"

"It seems to have left the building with Snape. Still as long as you've got yours, never mind about the rest of us."

He looked at her sharply, his eyes narrowed. They frequently bickered because of his wild, illogical switches of reasoning, and he had a knack of rubbing her up the wrong way; but he made her laugh just as often, as well as occasionally pity him. This time she knew she was the one not being fair. And now she'd given him every right to take his ever-present frustrations out on her.

"You did well with Snape," she said quickly, before he could speak. "Better than me, at any rate."

The grey eyes were still hard, and she thought for a moment they were set for an argument (which she quite fancied right now) but Sirius, unpredictable as always, chose instead to exhibit the undeniably charming side of his nature without any ill feeling at all.

"Ah, well." He grinned. "I've been having the Moony Prefect Lecture ever since my last encounter with Snivellus."

Tonks raised an eyebrow.

"You know. 'If you lose your temper you lose your judgement; if you lose your judgement then you haven't got a hope in hell.' It all sounded very sensible so I didn't take much notice until he came up with the clincher – Snivellus will take it out on Harry."

Molly said hurriedly: "You mustn't let him do that!" and Sirius – amazingly – nodded in agreement back at her. Tonks watching them through hazy eyes thought the whole evening was getting more bizarre by the moment.

"Plus Moony told me it's character building to be the mature one. Of course, I've already got a lot of character so I didn't see what he was getting at there." Sirius grinned again and raised his goblet in mock salute to Tonks.

"Olivia Purves," he said abruptly.

She gaped at him.

"What?" said Molly impatiently.

"Tonks knows." Sirius took another deep gulp of whisky. "Don't you?"

"Well I don't. One of you will have to explain." There was a slight edge to Molly's voice.

Sirius did indeed start to explain – and thankfully didn't give much away in his explanation. She herself was lost in recollection of a night before Christmas when the three of them had loosened their tongues with wine. And Muggle lager. Plus the odd glass of gin. (She'd planned ahead and brought a selection). Conversation had been rather neatly steered round to romantic disasters. Sirius considered his worst was the blonde who'd fallen off his motorcycle when riding pillion, and scratched it with her thigh-length boots. Tonks, who was desperate to hear about Remus's, thought it only fair that if she wanted him to spill his guts, then she should go first. It was a test really; to see if he was prepared to take their easy-going, slightly flirty conversations further.

To see if she was prepared to do it, too.

Sirius having appeared to nod off in his chair (she was never falling for that one again); she'd swallowed hard and spoken of the less fun side of being a Metamorphmagus. The weird ones who wanted you to change for them and were just really sad; and the sad ones who didn't have the guts to ask you to change and were just plain weird. By the time you'd sorted out which was which and sent them all packing, you were left trying hard not to be as cynical as hell.

That brought her to the memory of one Shane Stepper, who was perfectly charming and decidedly hot. Right up until the moment he handed her a list of his ten favourite Muggle film stars and told her she could pick one a night to change into for him. And though she laughed carelessly and said she hoped he still had the green boils on a certain part of his anatomy; she knew her stupid face would show all the well-remembered mortification, and Remus listened without saying a word.

"And you?" she'd said, at last.

Apparently the werewolf thing always had repercussions as she suspected it might. For a moment she thought he was going to leave it at that, but then he told her of two girls at Hogwarts – she couldn't remember the name of the first – both of whom things had obviously been fairly serious with. The first one had literally run away screaming when he broke the news to her.

"Impressive turn of speed she'd got," Remus said with a wry smile. "And when she did stand still again, she cried every time she saw me. James and Sirius told everyone she had an allergic reaction to my deodorant."

Tonks joked about his prowess with crying women obviously being down to years of practice; and he'd laughed and it had all been very light and easy between them.

But then followed the tale of Olivia Purves. They'd dated in his seventh year. She'd taken the news remarkably well when he finally broke it to her. Amazingly she hadn't been scared at all; quite the contrary. A fact which was proved in no uncertain terms when she turned up for their next date draped in a long red cloak, not much else, and begged him to chase her through the woods. While pretending to be a wolf.

Tonks remembered the silence and the blue eyes gazing thoughtfully into the fire, while she'd thought how much she'd like to feed Ms Purves to a passing Hungarian Horntail. Except she might be turned on by that too.

"And," said Sirius's voice, breaking into her thoughts and bringing her abruptly back to the present, "Tonks said exactly the right thing. She made him feel better. Bit of a novelty for him, that."

Had she? All she knew was that was the evening she was sure something had changed between them. Something subtle. He'd stood closer to her when they were together, she caught him looking at her sometimes, and he seemed to actively seek out her company. But that wasn't much to go on really without a huge helping of Molly's optimism and a large dollop of her own wishful thinking.

"So hard sometimes," said Molly, seemingly to herself, "to remember Remus is a werewolf. Not like that man who was in hospital with Arthur. It frightened me, him being on the same ward."

Tonks ignored her for fear of saying yet another thing she'd regret that night and looked at Sirius. "Has he ever said anything about me?"

He shook his head. "Not a thing."

"It doesn't look good then, does it?"

"On the contrary." Sirius lent back in his chair and stretched his long legs out languidly. Molly shot a look of disapproval at the black leather trousers, which Tonks thought were great apart from the fact they emphasised his thinness.

"I'm working on the theory that some things haven't changed around here. It was always the ones he said least about that he was most interested in. I've made lots of probing remarks about you and I can't make him bite. Plus you've apparently been charming the roster under his very nose and he always admires a clever witch. So –" he made a gesture with his hands, which fortunately Molly missed, and grinned, "- what's there to worry about? Get in there!"

Molly broke in eagerly: "And I told you about the day he watched you in the kitchen."

Only about a hundred times. Tonks smiled at her but it was an effort. A jazzy and appalling Celestina Warbeck number (it was one of those so-called classics 'Total Eclipse Of My Wand' or 'Holding Out For A Warlock'), had been blaring from the wireless and she and Hestia, who'd been clearing up in the kitchen, had decided to dance. Taking the mick really, which hopefully Molly would never realise. Merlin, she'd really let rip, ending up on the chair at one point and then on the table. Worse still, it had all come to an abrupt end, when to the echo of the immortal line, 'It's going to take a real wizard to sweep me off my feet,' she'd fallen off the table…

"He stood and watched you from the hall. For ages," said Molly, eyes shining happily.

"He could have been watching Hestia," Tonks said, shortly. "You don't know, Molly. Besides I'm embarrassing when I dance."

Molly made to speak again and she interrupted. "Look, I know you both mean well, but it doesn't change what went on tonight. Do you really think Remus, of all people, would like to have some girl stand up in front of a room full of friends and colleagues and more or less confess her devotion for him? Any normal bloke would want to dig a hole and crawl into it."

Sirius looked thoughtful, chewing on his lower lip. "I dare say most wouldn't be too thrilled." He bared his top yellow teeth. "But Moony? Well we're not talking normal, are we! People don't normally publicly proclaim anything for him, unless it's contempt or a law to make his life shit. Must be a great ego boost."

Tonks pulled a face. "You're thinking of this from your own point of view, aren't you? You'd have lapped it up!"

"Too true. I used to love Valentine's Day at Hogwarts." Sirius smiled, rather bitterly. "Wasn't quite the same in Azkaban. Anyway it doesn't matter, Tonks. Just say you're sorry and sort it out. You can't keep on messing around. Put your cards on the table."

So that was it. "You said that to Remus."

"So I did. Hopefully one of you two pesky kids will listen."

"It's going to be all right, dear." Molly took a deep gulp of whisky as though to reassure herself.

"Yeah." Tonks looked at them both; the incurable romantic and the least romantic person she knew. It was nice to think they cared, but she wasn't sure they'd helped. It was down to her to find the right words again, like when she'd told him Olivia Purves was a silly cow. And it would have been much more fun to be chased by him. Remus. Then she'd gone bright red while his eyes had widened, and suddenly they were laughing together. Sticking two fingers up at every Shane and Olivia in the world. That was the moment, more than any other, that made her sure there was…something. Some bond she'd never felt with anyone else.

Now she'd blown all that in one evening.

Suddenly her one desire was to be alone and she stood up abruptly, scraping her chair back. They both looked at her in surprise.

"Tell Remus I'll be upstairs if he wants to see me," she said, and left them sat together in an odd kind of harmony she never thought she'd see.

How strange that it should be this, of all things, which gave them common ground.

She caught the door, just as it was closing, as she heard Molly say anxiously: "So it'll be all right if you think he likes her?"

The clink of a bottle meeting a goblet was clearly audible.

"That's not really the sixty-four thousand Knut question," said Sirius slowly. "He may indeed like her, but I don't know if he'll take risks any more. Or let others take them for him. Umbridge and her kind have seen to that."

She let the door shut very gently. Remus always said it was a mistake to underestimate Sirius.

She made her way slowly upstairs to the library, avoiding the hole in the carpet she normally caught her foot in, and tried to think of something trivial. That recipe for making greengage jam which Molly was determined to give her would do. Hopefully it would be easy to follow. What exactly were greengages anyway? Could anything ever better raspberry? These were all important questions to dwell on.

The solid oak door revealed shadowed darkness inside, the embers of a fire burning low in the grate, and she slumped down on the floor in front of it with her back to the long sofa. She laid her heavy head against the shiny and stained material which had once been red velvet, and wished she'd wrestled the Firewhisky bottle off the pair of them and brought it up it with her. Her need was surely the greater.

The library was one of the few rooms at Grimmauld where she felt she could willingly spend some time. The walls were lichen-green and it was filled with over-large, dark furniture, but the atmosphere was musty and stale rather than menacing. Heavy, ancient books lined three of the four walls from ceiling to floor; the kind you felt it would be a breach of protocol to touch unless you were wearing a full set of dress robes. Sirius said his parents hadn't been great readers, that the books were for grandiose display purposes only, and he himself rarely set foot in here. But Remus did.

Remus.

Only last week they'd sat here drinking spiced wine and he'd shelled chestnuts in the old-fashioned Muggle way while she'd watched him; and they'd laughed and laughed over nothing she could remember at all. And she thought she'd never imagined having a friendship like this, with a man like this. Why hadn't she been content with that? Why had she pushed things? Why had she turned her world back to cinders with her own meddling hands?

The floorboards on the landing creaked loudly. The thought of Remus being kind was well-nigh bloody unbearable. But she had to face him and apologise.

"Tonks?" The door opened slowly. "Are you in here?"

A soft, crackling noise took her by surprise before she'd formulated a reply. A shimmering glow lit the ceiling with a golden, burnished halo and split the shadows at her feet into alternate beams of dark and light. She peered over the side of the sofa arm. He was holding a handful of flickering crimson flame in the palm of his hand and looking right at her.

"That's flash," she said without thinking. "Showing off again, are we?"

"I had it ready earlier in case I had to set Severus's hair on fire."

He came round in front of her and his face was lit by the shivering light; the hair turned to muted copper, the blue eyes pin-pointed scarlet.

Danger signs all the way.

He looked at her steadily for a few more seconds without expression and then closed his hand, plunging the room into darkness once more. A few whispered words were followed by a breeze that was more of a sigh, and the gas lamps on the walls sputtered into light, and the fire crackled and leapt with sudden vigour.

She braced herself. Anger or kindness, which would be worse?

"We have to talk, Tonks," said Remus as he sat down on the sofa to the right of her.

"Yeah, I suppose we do." Tonks stared into the fire dully and wondered where to start. That was a real laugh downstairs, wasn't it? Hope you didn't take any of it too seriously! Sorry about the embarrassment and total humiliation thing. Is this the last conversation we'll ever have as friends? Do you hate my guts?

She'd finally got her longed-for private conversation and didn't have a clue what to say.

"We've got just over an hour till duty time," said Remus quietly. "It sounds fairly straight-forward. We Apparate there and the suspect will be outside The Dissolution Inn at eleven-thirty. We follow him to -"

"What?" Tonks turned her head and blinked at him, her brain struggling to catch up.

"The Dissolution Inn," said Remus. "At –"

"Eleven bloody thirty," said Tonks. "Yeah, I got that bit, thanks. I was just wondering if you were planning to address recent events at any point during my lifetime?"

They stared at each other.

"I'm not sure it wouldn't be better to sleep on the whole thing," said Remus after a pause. "We can probably laugh about it in the morning and put it behind us."

"Snape being such a joker and all," said Tonks bitterly.

"Well, I wouldn't go quite that far but –"

"You just won't say anything bad about him at all, will you?"

His lips twitched slightly. "I've never criticised an Order member yet, and I'm not going to make an exception for that prat."

She was not going to laugh. The bond was there again between them, tugging at her. "Are you trying to make it easier for me or for you?"

"What?"

"Avoiding the issue. Pretending it didn't happen."

Remus was looking down at his clasped hands.

"Don't you think it might be better that way?"

Tonks swallowed. "No, because I need to apologise and you need to hear it."

"That's the last thing you need to do," he said, very softly. "Please don't."

"Tough." She couldn't bear him being kind. She wanted him to throw something at her. To call her names. To lose his temper. She wanted the man she couldn't wait to see every single day back, not this polite stranger who wouldn't quite meet her eyes.

And she was going to damn well fight to get him.

"I am sorry," she said clearly, staring at his averted head, "for what happened and the position I put you in. I am sorry I have been charming the roster for at least the last month and a bit to get duties with you. I am incredibly sorry that Snape, of all people, cottoned on to this. The laugh is I get caught the one time I didn't actually do anything. But I don't regret in the slightest the time we spent together because I enjoyed every single minute and I will not apologise for that." She stopped and took a deep breath. "So there you have it."

Remus was on his feet, almost before she'd said the last words. He moved towards the fire, his hands in his pockets as he stared into the flames.

Tonks knew she had to finish it. One way or another.

"The truth would be a good thing now, Remus. Honesty. Friends are honest with each other, aren't they? So tell me how you feel about the night's revelations? I need to know."

He turned his head slightly in the direction of her voice. "You're asking a lot, Tonks. You might not like it."

"I need to know." She repeated it firmly and clamped down on the quaking inside. I need to know the worst.

Remus pushed his hair out of his eyes and straightened up. She wondered for the millionth time why his lean figure with hair more grey than brown and that lined, intelligent face should turn her heart over.

"Severus was right," he said, and looked briefly at her before taking four steps past her, turning on his heel, and taking four back. "About everything."

She stared at him as he moved. Back and forth. Head down. Remus Lupin…agitated?

"I don't see –" she started and he cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"The roster is my responsibility, Tonks. Mine. I wrote it and I put protection spells on it. I helped write the Marauder's Map and people don't break into things if I don't want them to. You could have charmed it until your wand arm dropped off and it wouldn't have made any difference. The roster only accepts the names I want."

He was still pacing. Still looking at the holes in the carpet.

"But – my name? I was always with you?"

"Yes."

"But Dumbledore said –"

"Dumbledore rescued us. Like our friends tried to. He didn't lie; he just answered the question Severus asked him. He did do the roster in my absence. He did the original pairings. And I came back late this afternoon and changed Severus's name for my own. So you see it is I who should apologise. It is I who put you in an embarrassing position. It is I who am responsible for all that went on downstairs, not you."

Tonks felt her brain struggling to absorb this.

"Dumbledore put Snape with me?" Thanks a bunch.

"I wasn't expected back till late tonight. And he's always keen to integrate Severus with the rest of the Order, isn't he? But I, er…came back early."

His voice trailed away.

"You did that because…" She stopped. Her heart was ahead of her brain.

Her heart was racing.

He stopped as well and met her eyes. There was a brief glimpse of a smile, but he was very grave. "I don't regret a single second of the time I spent with you either, Tonks. I'll also happily let Severus Snape have a go at me any day if it means you'll stand up and say what you did. But this really shouldn't happen between us, however much I'd like it to."

She could feel the huge grin spread across her face.

"Tonks. You're not listening. This isn't a good idea."

"I know." She smiled happily. "You're worried in case I get to find out you're a snorer, aren't you?"

"No, it's that you look like a blanket-hogger to me." He shook his head, seemingly in exasperation at himself. It made his hair fall forward into his eyes and he pushed it back impatiently with one of his long-fingered hands.

"Look, let's just –"

She scrambled inelegantly to get to her feet. To go to him. To put her arms around him and take away what the past had done to him, and show him what the future could be.

Remus had his hand in front of him like a Muggle policeman stopping traffic. Warding her off.

"Tonks, I don't do casual," he said, very softly. "I – can't"

She stopped dead.

A/N: Many thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter. Reviews for this one would be much appreciated too, especially if anyone knows some good patterns for his and her jumpers. 