-
The wolf struggled against the bonds holding him captive, growling deep in his throat. The strange cave he was imprisoned in smelled of another wolf. Although the scent was faint, instinct demanded he hunt down any possible threat to his pack.
He writhed and twisted, claws scrabbling as he tried to break free. Panting, the wolf lifted his head to search for his mate. She was nowhere in sight. He was alone in a place that reeked of dead wood.
He whined mournfully.
A clicking sound brought his head up. Something was entering the cave! His muscles bunched in preparation to repel an attack.
The low, soft noises made by the intruder were familiar. The wolf had heard them before. Warily, he tracked the movements of the animal that walked upright like a bear. When it dropped down to all fours, he sniffed the air for its scent. Recognition stirred, along with memory.
Snow covered the forest except within an unnatural circle of grass and flowers. The wolf stared into ring, unable to comprehend why his mate had leapt inside and vanished. The human lying on the ground held out a paw. He drew in her scent and remembered that hairless paw covered in blood, remembered human eyes transforming into those of a wolf. Somehow, he knew his mate had taken another shape. Slowly, he stepped through the ring of ferns to join her.
The tension left his body. Secure in the knowledge that his mate would soon resume her true form, he waited quietly for her to crawl into the chalk circle.
She gazed into his eyes and he was suddenly free, lying on a bed of leaves in a small forest clearing. The wolf did not question how he had come to be there. It was enough that his mate was at his side. She licked his muzzle. He allowed her to groom him, relishing the affection. It wasn't until he began to groom her in return that he recalled the rage he had felt and the scent in the cave of dead wood.
The wolf lifted his nose into the wind. There was no trace of another wolf entering his territory. He sniffed his mate's fur. The only scent she carried was his.
He sneezed when her wagging tail tickled his nose. She looked back at him over her shoulder. The tilt of her ears matched the question in her eyes. What did he want to do? Play or hunt?
In answer, he bounded past her, plunging through the undergrowth to race into the forest.
After the first rush of speed, he slowed to a trot, tail held horizontal to signal his mate to stay alert. She was young and easily distracted by tiny rustlings in the vegetation alongside the path.
A clucking noise brought the wolf to a standstill. He recognised the nesting sound of the large bird found near human dens. He also remembered the taste of its flesh. A glance back at his mate showed that her ears were up, her tail wagging in anticipation. He wagged his tail once and then padded forward.
Focused on the hunt, the wolf moved quickly. Only when he neared was the fowl alerted to danger. He rushed forward, but instead of trying to flee, the prey did something shocking: it breathed fire.
Heat scorched the wolf's foreleg. He yelped in pain, instinctively sinking to the ground as his mate leapt past him. A squawk was cut off by a snapping sound.
His mate stood before him, carrying the fowl by its broken neck. She appeared excited and uncertain. It was as though she did not know what to do with the prey animal. When she dropped it beside him, he nudged the underbelly. She continued to watch him like a curious pup.
His leg hurt and he was hungry. The wolf snarled.
His mate whimpered.
He understood that she thought he needed the meat more, so he should eat first. That was the way of the pack. He lowered his head, using teeth to rip through feathers and skin to reach organs and flesh. When hunger was appeased, he nudged the carcass toward his mate.
She sniffed it.
He lifted his lip to bare his teeth. It was her turn to eat!
She crouched submissively, tearing off a small portion of meat. After the first bite she took another, larger one.
Comfortably full, the wolf led the way out of the forest, stopping at a stream. The icy cold water soothed his burns. His mate walked in to stand beside him as she drank, pressing her coat to his. Gently, she bit his muzzle. He nipped hers in return.
Once his leg felt healed enough to make the climb, they returned to the cave hidden behind a fall of rocks. He stretched out, examining his injury. A round patch of fur had been burnt away. The reddened skin throbbed dully.
His mate began to groom him, taking his mind off the pain in his foreleg. She nibbled his coat, removing bits of leaf and dirt. Even after he was clean, she continued grooming. He grumbled appreciatively when her teeth tickled his chest, moving over his fur in a way that prompted him to roll onto his side to give her better access. She made a throat-scratching sound of contentment, nibbling the sensitive area between his front legs. He echoed the sound, allowing heavy eyes to close.
-
Remus awoke at sunrise. In the cave of dead wood, he thought, pushing aside magical shackles that had bound him during the change.
Beside him, Nymphadora yawned. "Good morning," she said, tilting her head to smile into his eyes. "Did the encounter with the fire-breathing chicken really happen?"
"Yes. Fifth year. Afterwards, Padfoot and Prongs led me to a stream to cool my burns."
She sat up. "You sound funny. Are you upset that I killed it?"
Remus put his finger to his lips. "Only the outer walls are soundproofed." He rose and extended a hand, pulling Nymphadora to her feet. "Let's go to my room."
She bent to pick up the Melusine Mirror on the way out. "I left mine with—"
"I know. I spoke with him," Remus said curtly. He didn't want to hurt his love's feelings, but this wasn't the place to have a conversation. In his bedroom, he found potions waiting on the dresser. "Thank you," he said, reaching for the first flagon.
Nymphadora sidled up to him. She waited until he had finished the strengthening solution and Morning After potion to ask, "Are you upset about Snape, the chicken, or both?"
He chose his words carefully. "You trusted Snape for the same reason your wolf killed the chicken. I understand the instinct to protect." He paused. "What I want to know is why you ate it."
"Instinct."
Remus shook his head. "No it wasn't. I was there. You hesitated. You didn't want to eat, but you did—why?"
Her eyes were big and pleading. "You wanted me to."
"No, I didn't. The wolf did."
"You were the wolf," she said, "and I was a wolf too. Wolves eat what they kill. There's nothing wrong with that."
Remus said, "It isn't that you ate the chicken. It's that you did it because the wolf wanted you to." The wolf that was strong enough to force the change at moonrise. The wolf that understands his mate has a human form.
Nymphadora's expression shifted in a way that made him uncomfortable. "Are you jealous?" she said. "Don't be. There are limits to what my wolf will do for yours, but there's nothing I won't do for you." She slid her arms around his neck. "Just tell me what you want."
He kissed her in hunger, passion, and as much as Remus loathed admitting it: jealousy. His hands traced her curves possessively. Territorial as a wolf he thought with a trace of bitterness. Nymphadora's sigh made him determined to rise above animal need. "The wolf took everything you offered," he said. "I want to give." He brushed kisses over her face while he unbuttoned her blouse.
"No." She turned her head so his lips would graze her mouth. "You're too tired. Let me help." Her hands reached for his shirt.
He gently stopped her fingers from unfastening his top button. "I'll sleep when you return to Hogsmeade." Remus kissed Nymphadora softly but firmly. "Right now," he murmured in her ear, "I'm going to give you pleasure." He traced her ear with the tip of his tongue.
She shivered. "If this is what you really want…."
He turned his attention to the graceful column of her throat. "It is," he said between kisses.
Nymphadora clutched his shoulders. "I hope you want to get naked too."
Remus chuckled. "I will. Eventually."
-
Later, Tonks was wishing she could take a day of personal leave when Remus sleepily asked, "Did you just say 'Lupin'?"
"No." Her brain abruptly jolted into alertness. "The mirror!"
She scrambled across Remus to snatch it from the bedside table. "Snape? What's wrong?"
Even in a mirror he managed to look down his nose at her. "Dawlish owled. There has been a change in schedule. You now have morning patrol."
Tonks looked at the clock. It was a quarter to eight. The Knight Bus would never get her to Hogsmeade by nine! She grabbed her hair in a fist. "Shite! There are no Floos open and I can't Apparate long distances! What the bloody hell am I going to do?"
"You should have considered that before you left."
She flashed a vulgar hand gesture where Snape couldn't see it, tempted to say, "Guess how many fingers I'm holding up?" Instead, she said, "Yeah, I should have, but I didn't. Now what?"
Remus placed his hand on her arm, rubbing it soothingly. "We need to find a way to get you to Hogsmeade." He took the mirror. "Severus, do you know of any public Floos near Salford?"
Snape curled his lip. "Fortunately for you, yes. Manchester has a central Floo station."
Tonks leaned over to look into the mirror. "Then I'll owl for a Squire Cab. See you." When the mirrored glass showed her reflection, she smiled at Remus. "They're fast. I'll make it."
"I'll send the owl while you dress." He gestured to the clothes draped over a chair.
"You're so tidy," she said, unfolding her panties. "I admire that, but last night it almost drove me mad."
Although his back was to her as he wrote a note to the Squire Cab Company, she could hear the smile in his voice. "Anticipation is supposed to heighten pleasure."
"Oh yeah?" She teetered on one foot and then the other while she pulled on her boots.
Remus sent the owl on its way. "Didn't it?" he asked, a wolfish gleam in his eye.
Tonks tried and failed not to grin. "Oh yeah!"
After several kisses and a promise to mirror later, she hurried downstairs. "Bye, Will!" she said to the boy sprawled face down across a futon.
He grunted.
She said with extra cheeriness, "Have a nice day!"
A white and black Squire Cab idled at the curb. She jumped in, bracing one hand against the back of the seat in front of her. The vehicle jerked into motion.
It didn't take long to reach the station. Tonks stepped out of the fireplace in Snape's office with thirty minutes to spare. It was a surprise not to see a malevolent bat perched behind his desk, glowering, but she was too happy to see the mirror resting on dark wood to care.
The true shock came when she reached for the door handle. It almost burnt, it was so hot. She pulled her fingers back. What was going on? A jinx to keep someone inside the office made no sense, unless it something Snape was working on for the new school term; keeping students trapped in detention literally. Tonks wouldn't put it past him. He could be such a git. Shaking her head, she cast a Freezing Charm and yanked the door open.
Pomfrey and Snape stood in the corridor. The mediwitch halted her stream of chatter to gasp, "Miss Tonks!"
"Madam Pomfrey." Tonks looked at Snape. He stood, lips pursed, clearly blaming her for the farcical situation they were in. She smiled at Pomfrey. "Nice to see you. I have to leave for patrol or I'd—"
"Did you say leave?" The woman's narrowed gaze raked Tonks over. Her nostrils flared.
Guess she's noticed I'm still wearing the clothes I had on last night. Tonks waited for Snape to say something to help her out. He remained silent. At that moment, Tonks envied a mutant chicken's ability to breathe fire. "Yes," she said.
An awkward silence fell. Tonks edged closer to Snape. "You could have written a note," she said. "It would have made certain things a whole lot easier."
Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat. "I will speak with you later, Severus, when certain things do not distract."
Me-ow! Tonks thought, reluctantly amused. She said, "No. Please stay. Really. I have to leave. Duty calls and all that rot." She started walking before she finished speaking. The second she rounded a corner, Tonks broke into a jog.
No running in the corridors!
She could almost hear the voices of prefects echoing off the stones. A smile crossed her face. She wasn't a student anymore.
Tonks kept a brisk pace until she reached the gates to the school. She had a decision to make. Either she Apparated to The Broomsticks and took a hurried shower, or used an Accio to summon her broom and enjoyed a proper bath afterwards.
She used a Summoning Charm and finished her patrol in record time.
After a long, hot bath, Tonks wandered downstairs, intending to order a sandwich and a Butterbeer in the pub. She found Dawlish at the bar, sipping a clear drink, while Rosmerta polished a glass with a tea towel.
Her superior looked up with a frown.
Rosmerta smiled. "Good morning. May I get you something, Tonks?"
"If the kitchen's open, I'd love a sandwich."
"It's close enough to lunch. Ham and salad fine?"
"Sure." Tonks sat on a stool. "I'll drink whatever he's having."
Rosmerta slanted a teasing look at the man watching intently. "Should I give her vodka, Adam?"
Adam? Rosmerta's flirting with Dawlish, calling him Adam—and he's practically smiling? Only Snape returning Pomfrey's interest would have been more disturbing...or comical. Tonks fought back giggles at the thought of the two odd couples on a double date.
"I'm drinking Gillywater," said Dawlish.
Tonks made a face. The stuff had a gritty aftertaste that made her think of sandy gillyweed roots. "In that case I'll have a Butterbeer."
When Rosmerta left the room, Dawlish's expression hardened. "When I send an owl I expect one in return."
Even when no reply was needed or requested? Cousin Lora had a word for that: micromanagement. Tonks didn't think her boss would value learning Muggle terminology, so she said, "Yes, sir."
He stood. "There will be a noon meeting to address security for the returning students. Don't be late."
She checked her watch. There went her plans for a nap. "Yes, sir." You micromanaging bastard, sir!
Dawlish glanced toward the kitchen corridor—hoping the lovely barkeep would appear? After a few seconds, he gave a sharp nod and marched away.
Tonks thought her appetite was ruined until Rosmerta placed an enormous sandwich before her. She wolfed it down.
-
A/N: I almost put a note at the beginning of the chapter, but I didn't want to ruin the mood and I thought 'most readers know that Tonks has used blood magic to be with Remus without Wolfsbane Potion, and afterwards, if new readers want a little background info, or long-time readers want to refresh their memory, I can invite them to read chapter 12 and 22 of the previous story Moonlight and Shadow.' (Which I guess I just did. :D) The fire-breathing chicken Harry saw at the Ministry seemed like something Hagrid would buy off a bloke at the Hog's Head, try to domesticate it, and then be sad when it singed his beard and escaped to the Forbidden Forest.
The readers who reviewed the last chapter and who I missed last week because I didn't have this chapter to post were...40/16, adrienne06052, alix33, AudreyLovesRemus, Calenmarwen, ElspethBates, FNP, Freja Lercke-Falkenborg, ILoveDoctorMcDreamy, ishandtwofourths, Kates Master, Ladyofthebookworms, ladyofthelight101, MollyCoddles, Moontime, Mrs.Hermione Jane Weasley, n1264, NaginiFay, Operamuse, RahNee, remus R us, Slipknot3113, Sophia Loren, sunny9847, tambrathegreat, twouble, UnderworldBabe, your nightmare and Ziroana.