Sequel to Movement.
Retrograde
She was acting like a schoolgirl with a crush.
Really.
She'd a distinct sense of déjà vu, a hazy memory of having sat up in the Hufflepuff common room hoping for a glimpse of whatever prefect or Quidditch captain she'd fancied at the time. Yesterday she could have remembered names and recalled faces. Something had happened between now and then, apparently with similar results to Memory Charms.
She'd kissed Remus Lupin.
Or, he'd kissed her.
No. They'd kissed each other.
And Tonks, Auror, member of the Order of the Phoenix, was acting like a teenager.
She assumed she was, anyway. She couldn't remember feeling like this since she'd left Hogwarts. She strongly suspected – though she hadn't much experience – that it wasn't normal for adults who fancied other adults to do what she was doing now.
Remus wasn't home. He probably wouldn't be till long past the time she could reasonably be at number twelve without giving away just how juvenile she was being.
Not that she really had a leg to stand on as it was.
She'd brought takeaway for Sirius, endured a morose meal with him, after which she'd failed to cheer him with her favourite WWN programme. He'd made nothing of it when, on his way upstairs to tend Buckbeak, Tonks had told him – and herself – that she'd get more paperwork done in the Grimmauld library than in her cluttered flat full of distractions.
As if sitting at Remus' desk was conducive to concentration. She couldn't stop thinking about how he looked when he sat here: from one angle, a lined face, greying hair, shapeless cardigans and baggy trousers gave the impression of a professor marking essays at the end of a long day; in another light, tidy collars peeking out from v-neck jumpers, light brown fringe falling into clear blue eyes, and ready smiles at interruptions made him very much a boy.
Of course, most of her thoughts regarding the Remus Lupin dichotomy were fixated on kissing him last night in the kitchen. God…
She slouched in her chair – unladylike posture her mum would've scolded – as her topsy-turvy internal organs seemed to enlarge and turn to jelly. It felt like her first kiss, so vividly she recalled every sensation of their lips gliding together, of his hand on her face, of his skin beneath her fingertips. Soft. Warm.
It could only be described as a melting kiss.
Melting – not just because he'd reduced her to a puddle. The personae Remus presented to the world had converged in that kiss to confirm Tonks' suspicions that he was an intricate wizard: at once sensitive and mischievous and so many other things she wanted to see.
And he fancied her.
Or at least, she assumed he did. She'd felt it, in his kiss. Could still feel it now, as she remembered…
God. She slid down a little more in the Queen Anne chair, knees touching the back of the antique desk.
Multi-faceted as Remus was, Tonks didn't get the idea that he was so compartmentalised that he'd kiss a witch without really meaning it. No, it wasn't a facet of Remus that had kissed her.
It was Remus.
And she had to see him again, had to get to know him.
That was why she sat here, at his desk, waiting for him like a schoolgirl in the common room. She had to know.
And did he think anything like that about her? Did Remus find her a puzzle to be worked out? She knew that what lay beneath her pink hair wasn't as intricate as the inside of Remus. She knew she'd never really been what anyone would call a catch. Still, she thought there must be something to strike his fancy. And she wanted to know. They'd been interrupted before they could…debrief…
(Tonks snorted. Debrief. Maybe not such a schoolgirl after all.)
Or say anything remotely like, I really fancy you, and I'd love to go out with you sometime.
Or to be awkward. Because it could have been. Could be. Maybe she ought to go back to hers…
The door creaked.
Tonks turned.
Remus stood between the double French doors, the bluish light from his wand reflected in his eyes. Lines on his face that might have indicated fatigue arched upward in surprise.
Pleased surprise.
He was smiling.
That jolt of magic passed between them again, apparently a charm that made Tonks' heart sprout wings that beat frantically to escape her chest.
"Tonks."
"Wotcher."
A heartbeat of silence.
Maybe a little awkward. But not the bad kind. We-kissed-and-changed-everything-and-we've-got-to-get-our-bearings was a very good sort of awkward.
His smile widened.
Tonks blushed. Like a schoolgirl. Tried to arch an eyebrow as she'd used to when bantering – flirting – with Remus. And said shakily, "Why're you smiling?"
Did he blush a little?
No, it was the change of light as he put out his wand and tucked it into his robes as he stepped further into the lamp-lit library.
"Because you, Nymphadora, are absolutely out of context."
That was not why he'd smiled, but it piqued her curiosity. "Out of context?"
He gestured to her. "Your bright hair." He waved vaguely, indicating the room. "This gloomy library. Your twentieth century clothes in this hopelessly nineteenth century room. You slouching comfortably in that desk at which some Black ancestor once sat rigidly in a corset whilst composing her morning letters."
"Anachronistic, you mean."
"Rather."
Tonks scooted to the edge of the chair and sat ramrod straight. She scrunched her face to morph her pink spikes into tight black coils, then waved her wand to pile them on top of her head, leaving a few ringlets cascading her neck. Another charm transfigured her Weird Sisters t-shirt into plum-coloured taffeta gown with a severe neck, trimmed in lace that matched the cuffs of her sleeves.
"I never said anachronism was a bad thing." Remus' eyes sparkled with silent laughter as he approached her.
"Did you not, sir?"
His gaze briefly flickered downward, bashfully, then he looked up with a very serious expression. "Miss Tonks, while I cannot deny that your new coif and frock are fetching, I am quite fond of your twentieth century counterpart."
Tonks hadn't thought it possible for her heart to beat any faster. "Only quite fond?"
One of his hands held the back of her chair. The other rested on the desk.
Her breath hitched. Her mouth went dry. Swallowing didn't help.
"I was, of course," Remus rasped, "employing the understatement."
"I'd prefer you just state."
Remus fingered one of her dark curls. "I'm excessively fond of her."
She transfigured her clothes back to t-shirt and ripped jeans and dropped the morph, except she left her pink hair long and curly. "Of…me."
"Yes. Of you."
"Are you sure that's not overstatement?"
"Quite sure."
Remus leant down to her, warm palm sliding over her cheek as his fingers tangled in her hair. "In fact…"
His face was so close to hers. His thumb just traced her bottom lip. He was going to kiss her. Unless she kissed him first. But she didn't want to interrupt his flirtation. Maybe there was a bit of awkwardness. He was disguising it nicely. He made her pulse do almost as wild things as his lips had last night…As his lips would do any moment…
"…I am afraid it was understatement again. When it comes to you…" Remus tilted his head, and Tonks mirrored him as he murmured against her mouth, "I haven't words…"
Tonks inferred that Remus hadn't words to express what he was feeling for her. Which, in and of itself, boggled the mind. His actions reduced her brain to an organ capable only of registering sensation.
God…Such sweet kisses. He stole her breath.
She sighed. It was only a thumb on her cheek, but God…
Had thumbs felt like that before?
Remus made it difficult to remember kissing anyone else. She couldn't recall more passionate kisses making her feel like she might fall right out of her chair.
Or through it.
She was sure her body had been converted to liquid matter.
What would happen when she and Remus shared deeper kisses?
She hadn't realised her hands had moved up to rest against Remus' chest until he clasped one and slowly pulled his mouth from hers.
"I've been thinking about doing that since last night," he said softly, straightening to full height. "I didn't think I would actually get to do it."
His eyes crinkled with a smile as he ducked his head and lightly kissed her knuckles. There was no way on earth he missed the hairs on her arm standing as goose bumps prickled on her skin.
"How was your assignment?" Tonks asked, surprising herself at so quickly remembering what life entailed apart from kissing Remus.
"Why don't we enlarge this desk…" He released her hand. "…and I'll tell you about it as I write my report."
"Engorgio." Tonks gave her wand a lazy flick that made the furniture double in length. She scooted her chair over to make room for the matching one Remus Summoned from across the room. His arm brushed against hers as he sat, and though she smiled at the tingling sensations his nearness sent through her, she had a moment of teenaged panic that he might have felt her shudder.
"D'you think," Tonks asked, "we'll be as successful working this close together as we were last night?"
A lopsided grin stretching slowly across his face, Remus propped his elbow on the desk and rested his cheek in his hand. "It might take a while to accomplish anything."
His blue eyes, twinkling with a flirty light, told her that work was the very last thing on his mind. The look drove unfinished reports from Tonks'.
His other hand brushing errant curls back from her face, Remus added, "But I never minded homework taking a long time when I got to do it next to a pretty girl."
"So, you're prepared to be distracted by me doing this?" Tonks hooked her foot around his ankle, then ran it lightly up his calf.
"Absolutely." Remus' voice was a little more hoarse than usual. "And you shan't mind if I turn my head, and do this?" He kissed her cheek softly.
Her breath caught again.
His lips traced a tantalising path along her jaw. There were tiny flicks that might have been his tongue, though she'd again lost too much awareness to really be sure.
Remus' mouth lingered in the spot where her jaw met her neck. Tonks squirmed.
Battled shivers produced by his warm breath and soft lips.
He found her earlobe.
"You know the last time a boy distracted me from homework that way," Tonks breathlessly managed, unable to picture anyone but Remus' doing so, "he followed up by asking me for a Hogsmeade date."
"Are you hinting at a particular fondness for Hogsmeade?"
"No."
"Then, Miss Tonks…" Remus pulled back to look her in the eyes. "…am I correct to assume that if I request the pleasure of your company for a private rendezvous, not necessarily in Hogsmeade, you would accept?"
Tonks laughed. "I may be a twentieth century witch, but I like the nineteenth century way of asking for a date."
Remus cringed. "You've just made me feel ancient. I should have asked like a bashful schoolboy."
"Are you a bashful schoolboy?"
"Actually…" His cheeks tinged with pink; the look she'd seen earlier, when she'd asked why he was smiling, crossed his face again. "There is one thing I wondered…."
Underneath all that confident, sexy banter lurked shyness. Tonks liked that. Rather a lot.
She watched his neck as he swallowed again and thought it looked like his heart might have lodged there.
Once more she thought her own might beat through her ribcage. Remus Lupin was shy about her.
His eyes flicked to the floor. "There wasn't a meeting tonight."
Oh. bloody. hell. Tonks knew where this was going. She couldn't look at him.
"No."
"But you're here."
"Yeah."
"And Sirius…"
"…went upstairs ages ago."
"You're…" He swallowed, loudly. "You're here to see me, then?"
Tonks' eyes darted up, as though summoned. They locked with his peering through lashes and fringe.
She was too embarrassed to look at him.
Yet she couldn't look away.
"Yeah."
"Glad to know I've got a good reason for feeling sixteen again."
Tonks returned his smile.
They were adults who fancied other adults. And apparently it was, indeed, normal do what they were doing now.
A/N: Just a little R/T fluff for a Friday. Make your weekend lovelier by reviewing, and selecting your choice of Remus to ask you for a date: romantic Remus, who does it with impeccable manners, in the old fashioned way, and will watch Jane Austen adaptations or read poetry to you; boyish Remus, who's just thrilled speechless that you'd sit around waiting for him to ask you out; or sexy Remus, who'd rather stay in and show off his kissing talents.
Have a good weekend, everyone. Thanks for reading the things I've posted this week, even though the site's been on the fritz. Keep your eyes peeled for more Transfigured Hearts (hopefully sometime next week), and also look out week after next for Gilpin to post the first chapter of our collaborative effort, "Up All Night."