Remus paced quickly through the dark, deserted Hogwarts corridors, the sounds of battle having not yet faded from his ears. Outside he could hear the beautiful, terrible cries of Fawkes the phoenix, equally audible everywhere he turned, inescapable.

Dumbledore, the first and greatest of his mentors, was dead. He wasn't sure of all the details—those would come later—but Harry had said that Snape had killed him…Snape, who Remus had forced himself to trust against his better judgement for so many years….

"Remus!"

Remus had expected to hear her coming after him, but he did not turn around, pretending he hadn't. "Remus!" she yelled again—he continued walking, his stomach churning….

"Remus John Lupin, stop running away and look at me, God damn it!"

Remus stopped. Tonks was only a few feet behind him, her skin turned silver by the moonlight streaming through the windows lining the hallway. She looked beautiful, and she looked furious.

"You can't just sneak off and not talk to me," she growled. "Not after—have you been crying, Remus?"

Quickly Remus wiped at his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said hoarsely. "I don't mean to…I just can't believe it."

"About Dumbledore?" Tonks's tone of voice had almost instantly softened.

"It feels like we've lost," Remus murmured. "Lost it all. There's no Order without Dumbledore."

"Of course there is," Tonks said. "The Order's always been stronger than one man. Dumbledore…he'd want us to continue on, you know he would. We can't give up now."

"I know we can't."

"And we can't give up on each other, either." She took a step forward, fixing Remus with her dark, fiery gaze. "You heard what Fleur said—you heard what they all said. The things that used to matter…none of them do anymore. They don't matter to me, at least; all that matters is how we feel."

"What is it you want from me, Tonks?" Remus said heavily, pulling anxiously at his hair. "You want me to pretend it doesn't matter that I'm a werewolf? That I'm broken, that I have no money, that I can't—"

"I don't want any of that," Tonks interrupted. "I want you to marry me."

Remus's heart skipped a beat. It was a long minute before he regained the ability to speak. "I can't get married," he whispered. "Werewolves don't marry, Tonks."

"Well, it's a good job you're not an ordinary werewolf, then," she retorted. "You can't compare yourself to the people you've been living with this past year—you're worth a thousand of those wolves, and you know it."

Remus shook his head. "The only thing that separates me from them is luck," he said. "Luck that my parents chose to keep me, luck that Dumbledore…that Dumbledore took a chance on me and let me come to school." His voice broke on the old headmaster's name.

"Whatever it is, Remus, you know you're different. You're a wizard, just as much as I'm a witch. You're the bravest, cleverest, kindest man I know, and I…I love you."

She blinked at him then, daring him to reject her once more. But he couldn't—Dumbledore's death and the look in her eyes had worn him down, leaving nothing on his lips but the truth he'd suppressed for so long. "I love you, too," he said. "Seeing you…it's about the only thing that can make me happy anymore. I would spend every day of the rest of my life with you if I could."

"So why can't you?"

"Because," he said, "I don't want to hurt you."

Tonks let out a laugh at this, cold and humorless. "You don't want to hurt me…. You have no idea." She drew her wand and swished it; a silvery creature burst from its tip, prowling across the corridor and tilting back its head in a silent howl.

It was a wolf Patronus, identical to Remus's own. Harry had told him that Tonks's Patronus had changed, but it was entirely different to see it materialize before him; he watched it run, mesmerized, not returning his eyes to Tonks until it had dissolved back into mist.

"You avoiding me has hurt me so much more than any stupid werewolf stigma," she said, her voice shaking. "I know that Patronus is the same as yours—Sirius told me. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you…you've changed me, Remus, can't you see?"

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, either," Remus admitted, his throat going dry. "You're right, I know I've hurt you…I'm sorry, Tonks, it's the last thing I wanted."

"Then stop hurting me and listen, you prat! We don't know how much time we have left; we should spend it together, and let us both be happy. Just like the Potters did, and the Longbottoms…just like Bill and Fleur are doing now. Do you think any of them have regretted it?"

"No," Remus said softly—he knew they hadn't. McGonagall's words from earlier echoed through his mind: "Dumbledore would have been happier than anybody to think that there was a little more love in the world." So would James and Lily, so would Alice and Frank…and so, even, would Sirius, who'd always wanted Remus to be happy above all else. Why shouldn't he let himself when it was so clear that he'd be bringing Tonks happiness, too? How could his feelings for her be selfish if she felt exactly the same?

Slowly he inched forward, placing his hands on Tonks's shoulders as she reached up gently to wipe the dried tears from his cheeks. Remus peered into her eyes and nodded, slow and firm—then he pulled her into him and they kissed and kissed and kissed, holding each other until Fawkes's song finally died away and all they could hear was the rapid, feverish beating of their own hearts.