Tonks should have kept her mouth shut. When she told Jerry that Dawlish assigned her duty on the day of the Scout hike, all she had to do was nod in agreement that it was too bad. Instead, she tried to cheer him by saying she could always go another time.

She didn't know Wizard Scouts went hiking every Saturday, weather permitting.

Although she smiled and said the plan sounded "great," Tonks inwardly groaned. That night, she vented her frustration to Remus. "If they want exercise, why can't the troop just go on a run to the school gates and back? What's so great about rambling through the hills?"

"Experiencing nature?"

His smile made her feel grumpier, because she wanted to kiss his lips. "Nature is overrated. Windburn, sunburn, bugs, rocks to trip over, poisonous plants, dangerous predators…."

"Predators?"

As much as she adored Remus' smile, she didn't appreciate seeing it at that particular moment. "There are more than rabbits and deer in the Highlands. We could be attacked by wildcats!"

"They hunt at dawn and dusk, so it's highly unlikely you'll even see one, although you may see fur or feathers to indicate one has been near."

Tonks scowled. "Well, Muggles didn't make up those tales about magical creatures off the top of their heads!" She began to pace the attic. "Kelpies lurking in streams—"

"Do you fear being snatched away and devoured?"

If Remus was the one doing the devouring, she'd welcome it. "I was never a horse lover," she said, "but Kelpies can become beautiful women, so Jerry would be doomed." Tonks shook her head. "I am not going to be the one to tell Mrs. C all that's left of her precious baby is his liver!"

"His liver?" Remus appeared on the verge of laughter.

Previous mental images of being devoured made her not mind so much. "Yeah, they don't eat livers for some reason." She batted her eyelashes. "Did you not know that, professor?"

He grinned wolfishly in response to her provocative tone. "I did not. Thank you for filling that gap in my education."

Tonks fought the urge to lick the mirror and ask when their gap in intimacy would be filled. She didn't want to sound needy. Subtle was better. "How's your research into Long Distance Apparation going?"

"I haven't had the chance to do any."

In four days? She noticed he didn't mention Will. Something besides teaching was occupying his time. "Dix keeping you busy?"

"Yes."

The lack of details was a giveaway that Remus' conscience was bothering him. She said lightly, "A brewery means jobs, so werewolves don't have to steal to eat. That's a good thing."

"No matter how many laws are broken?"

High principles were one of the reasons she loved him so much, but she hated it when Remus got down on himself for humanly failing to live up to them. "The laws are prejudicial, meant to punish werewolves for a condition they can't help and keep them under the control of the Ministry. They don't deserve to be followed."

Remus smiled briefly. "You'll fit in with the pack better than I do."

Talking about her Black streak wouldn't keep him smiling. She decided to change the subject. "Want to see my new party trick?"

"You had an old one?"

Yes! A full smile! Tonks winked. "You remember that time I tied a cherry stem into a knot with my tongue, don't you?"

"Me and every other bloke in the Iron Shackle."

Uh oh, his lips were turning down. A different kind of reminder was in order. "Only one man enjoyed the benefits of my talent."

Like magic, Remus' mouth curved upward. "I enjoyed them very much."

She sighed. If only staring into his eyes in the mirror acted as a Portkey. What she would give to be where he was.

He said, "You mentioned a party trick?"

A party for two sounded lovely. There were all sorts of games they could play. She felt warm and melt-y just thinking about it.

"Nymphadora?"

"Hmmm?" She pulled her mind out of the chocolate body paint. "The party trick. Right. I thought of it one night when I was digging through—I mean organising—some of the trunks stored in the attic and came across an old Book of Spells. I found one that isn't taught in modern curriculum." Tonks placed a hand against her face, palm to chin, fingertips tilted outward. She peered at her lover through outstretched fingers.

Remus' eyes widened when her fingernails lengthened into claws. "What spell is that?"

"Unguis. It can give you any kind of claws you like, but it takes heaps of practice and concentration." She grimaced. "And always remember to hold your fingers away from your face." Tonks lightly stroked her cheek with the long, curving back of the claws. "These things are sharp as knives!"

"They're werewolf claws."

She nodded. "I used them to carve a heart with our initials in the back corner of the attic. It was so cool, slicing into wood as easily as writing with a quill!"

"You consider werewolf claws a party trick?"

The meaning behind his quiet, level tone finally sank in. "You don't think Dix would like me to carve his name on the wall?" she asked in a small voice.

"I'm sure he would."

She lowered her hand so he couldn't see the claws anymore. "But you wouldn't."

"No. I wouldn't."

"Because..."

"Because I want you to have nothing in common with Fenrir Greyback."

Tonks stared at his reflection, stricken.

Remus said, "Greyback transforms his entire hand into a werewolf paw, using it to inflict cursed wounds on wizards and lessons to werewolves." His eyes took on a faraway look.

Love and sympathy compelled her to ask, "Did you ever receive a 'lesson'?"

"Yes."

His bleakness tore at her heart. "I'm sorry." Tonks glanced down, focused sharply, and then rested her hand on her cheek. "How about I just use cat claws if I ever need to climb a tree? They're cute and retractable."

"They are indeed." Remus smiled a little. "Do you anticipate climbing trees in the near future?"

"Only if a scout forces me to rescue a kitten out of one."

"Forces you?"

She pursed her lips. "Yeah, you know, asking all pitiful and big-eyed."

"I know what Sirius once told me about a certain cousin of his." At last, Remus' smile reached his eyes. "A little girl who refused to believe a kitten would find its way down from a high branch."

Tonks remembered the incident. "He asked me if I'd ever seen a cat skeleton in a tree! What kind of argument was that? It caused me to jump every time an acorn fell, thinking a cat bone was falling on me!" She shuddered theatrically.

Remus' huff of amusement was her reward.

She kept the rest of their conversation light, even though she wanted to ask what his plans were for the full moon. She would still be confined to Hogsmeade on the twenty-sixth, so if he didn't spend it with her in the Shrieking Shack, they could only be together in dreams.

The thought wasn't comforting.

The blood magic binding her to his wolf ensured she shared the wolf's memory-inspired dreamscape when they were physically together, but when they weren't, her subconscious controlled their shared dreams. Sometimes, that got her into trouble.

Her decision to wear combat boots got her into trouble with the scouts when she showed up for the hike. Hamish opened his shop and outfitted her with hiking boots that would "breathe", "grip" and provide her with something called "longitudinal and torsional support." The brown leather didn't go as well with her gray camouflage—worn to coordinate with the scout uniform of mushroom gray trousers and dark green shirts—but the suede cuff was comfy, and she wasn't fashioned obsessed; although she was glad her trousers were long and hid most of the boots from view.

Jerry, super-scout that he was, provided her with a canteen of water. They brought up the rear while Hamish guided the boys out of Hogsmeade.

"Great day isn't it?" the red-headed scout leader called back to them, once the group was out earshot of the village.

"Fabulous!" Tonks yelled, before muttering to Jerry, "If you enjoy marching across frozen tundra before noon!"

"I enjoy hiking through scenic foothills."

She elbowed him. "I enjoy hiking through scenic Diagon Alley!"

Jerry's laughter rang out.

Robbie, the boy in front of them, turned his head. "My mum likes shopping, too!" His dark curls gave him an angelic look that didn't match his grin. "But my dad doesn't like paying for it. He says Galleons don't grow on trees."

"I wish they did," said Tonks. "I'd buy a new racing broom."

"Me too!"

A lively discussion travelled up and down the line as each boy shared what he would buy if Galleons grew on trees.

Hamish shook his head in amusement. "Would none of you give to the poor?"

Robbie shouted, "Sure! Right after I buy my racing broom!"

Tonks had been listening to the boys instead of paying attention to the scenery. She hadn't noticed that the path they were following had climbed steadily upward. When Hamish pointed to a stream and told the boys to take a break and fill their canteens, she asked, "Is there a cave near here?"

"Yes, there is. We're headed there, to do a good deed for its new resident."

Logically, she knew there were many streams and a lot of caves in the Highlands, but she couldn't shake the feeling that this was the stream her mate had led her to in dreams, and the cave their cave. The feeling grew stronger as they climbed a hill and approached what looked like a pile of rocks. Hamish used a Sonorous Charm. "It's Hamish Macbeth, Mrs. Black, here with the scouts to help with the garden!"

"I'll be right out!" a deep, scratchy voice cried.

The instant Tonks caught sight of the hag's straggling black hair and skin so white it seemed blue, she ran forward. "That's Black Annis!"

"You must not have read my letter to the Prophet," said the hag. "I've got two eyes, not one, eat mutton, not children, and my name is Annis Black." She shook the round tin held in gnarled hands. "Would any of you boys care for a chocolate chip biscuit?"

Everyone except Tonks rushed forward.

The hag said, "You're welcome to a biscuit, Miss..."

"Tonks. I'm an Auror, and I'd like to see inside your cave."

"Would you? Come in, then."

Hamish cleared his throat. "C'mon, lads, let's get to work." He opened a rucksack and gave each boy a hand fork or digging trowel. "The bearberry and trailing azalea won't plant themselves."

Annis Black climbed the rocks as nimbly as a goat. Tonks scrambled up much less gracefully. She jumped down to the other side and fell back on her arse. The hag held out her hand and pulled Tonks to her feet.

Tonks stared at the door that hid the opening in rock. "Ta, Thanks."

"Have you been here before?"

"Maybe." Tonks jerked her head toward the cave. "May I?"

"Go ahead."

Tonks expected a dimly lit room. She found a bright space hung with tapestries.

"The enchanted skylight in my cave at Deadmarsh was larger, but this one does the job."

"Yes," Tonks said absently, her gaze riveted to the floor. She walked to the place she had lain in her dreams, dropping to her knees to run a hand across scratch marks etched in stone. Remus, she thought, yearning to be with him.

"You must have a touch of the Sight," said the hag. "Ever since I moved in, I've dreamt of wolves every full moon. They come into this cave and curl up on that exact spot." Her chuckle was rusty. "They're very affectionate."

Tonks felt her cheeks grow warm. "Are they?"

"Aye. Didn't seem right to cover the stone with a rug, so I leave it bare."

"Thank you," Tonks said without thinking.

"What for?"

Tonks rose to her feet. "For being hospitable despite my rudeness. I jumped to conclusions before and I apologise, Mrs. Black."

"Folks having wrong ideas about me is why I moved from Leicestershire. I'm happy that such isn't the case here, Miss Tonks."

Tonks stuck out her hand, "It's just Tonks."

Her hand was taken in a firm clasp. "Annis."

Outside, Jerry was waiting, a tense expression on his face. Tonks couldn't help teasing him after he helped her down from the rocks. "It's more awful than I imagined."

His hand tightened around her arm. "Skins on the walls?"

"Worse. Tapestries—in pastels!" She placed the back of her hand to her brow. "The flowers, the fruit, the horror!"

She was still sniggering when a boy yelled, "I need help!"

"Coming, Robbie!" Tonks strolled over to a patch of ground that looked decidedly untilled. "What's going on?"

"I can't use this trowel. It's too dull."

She glanced over her shoulder and then knelt on the ground. "If you can keep your mouth shut, I'll help you."

"I'll keep quiet. Are you going to use a spell? Ace!"

No one was watching, so she transformed her nails into werewolf claws. Cat claws were good for climbing and defence, but wolves were the ones who buried their kill to eat later, digging through snow and ice if need be. She raked her claws along the ground. They sank into the soil as if it was soft and not rocky.

"Cool," Tonks and Robbie said at the same time. They shared a grin.

She made short work of breaking up the soil. "Know what the best part is?" she told Robbie, waggling her claws playfully. "I don't have to clean under my fingernails!"

"That's a useful talent," said a voice behind them. It was Annis.

Tonks silently chanted a spell to get rid of the claws. "Thanks." She was taken aback when the hag reached into a pouch hanging by a cord at her waist and offered her a dark, mottled green stone.

"Nephrite jade aids in dreaming. State your will and sleep with it under your pillow."

"Is that what you do?" Tonks took the jade, since she didn't want to offend Annis again, and wanted to distract her from asking about the claws.

The hag reached into the pouch again and showed her a light green stone. "No. I use prehnite to remember dreams."

Jerry and two scouts were making their way over. "I guess they're ready to plant seeds," said Tonks, wishing Annis would go give Hamish a magic rock and leave her alone.

"Dreams are like seeds. May they grow and bless you." She nodded amiably to Jerry and continued over to Hamish's group.

Determined to forget the mystical and concentrate on the practical, Tonks slipped the jade into a pocket.

-

Remus wished he could forget about the approaching full moon, but every night he saw the same question in Nymphadora's eyes. Will we be together?

He avoided answering, talking about her day, about news articles he'd read, Will's aptitude for Charms, the slow progress he was making in Long Distance Apparation—anything other than the topic he knew she wanted to broach. If he told her he had a bad feeling, with nothing except a cryptic comment by Dix to explain his vague foreboding, she would worry. What exactly did Dix say? How did he say it? What expression did he have on his face? Remus could imagine her saying in what he thought of as her "sexy Auror" voice.

There was nothing he could tell her that would ease her mind.

He'd walked into Dix's office and overheard him tell Cleave, "Sometimes restitution isn't enough." The words had been said casually, with no clue in tone or expression to give meaning or context, but Remus had immediately flashed back to the night a grateful werewolf shook his hand.

Saved my life, your advice. Thought Dix was going to slice me up and toss me in the river until I begged to make restitution.

If Kemp had returned to his old habits of stealing from Muggles, how would Dix react? What punishment would he mete out?

The possibilities triggered nightmares.

Each time he woke in a cold sweat, Remus reminded himself that he wasn't lying bruised and bleeding in a pit dug in Scottish soil. It was 1996, not 1981. He hadn't sacrificed everything he held dear for a mission that was doomed from the start. His friends in the Order trusted him. Nymphadora loved him. He couldn't let experiences in the past taint the present.

As the days passed and the twenty-sixth of September neared, however, it grew harder to sleep, and impossible to explain to his lover why he still didn't know if they would be together.

"Don't you want to be with me?" she asked, two nights before the full moon.

"Always," he said, "But I can't promise to come to Hogsmeade. I have to wait."

"For permission? I thought Dix gave it."

"He did...and he can rescind it."

"Why?"

Remus was unable to hide his fears any longer. "To teach a lesson."

"Not to you. He trusts you." Nymphadora's eyes begged for reassurance.

Conditionally, that was true. Remus said, "Not me. Kemp, who runs through his stipend and then cadges a meal or beer whenever he can, yet according to Will has been bringing Delia Bowen steaks and bottles of wine."

"Maybe he got a job to impress her."

"Or he's breaking his word to Dix about stealing, and going to find himself facing pack discipline."

"What does that mean?"

Remus shared the details he'd omitted before when telling her about Dix's massive safe room.

Nymphadora looked thoughtful. "Kemp wouldn't be killed, right?"

"No. Werewolves heal at an extraordinary rate during the change—magical," he said wryly. "If they didn't, we'd be marked by our scars and even less able to function in society."

After moments of silence, she said, "Are you afraid the pack will turn on you if you don't...participate...in their discipline?"

He looked away, unable to meet her eyes as he said, "I'm afraid I'd enjoy participating."

"It wouldn't be you. It would be your wolf, acting out of instinct to protect the pack. You can't blame yourself for anything he does."

Remus chuckled mirthlessly, "You can't have it both ways, Nymphadora. Either the wolf is part of me, and I accept everything, including responsibility for his actions, or he isn't."

"Blame and responsibility are two different things," she said.

"Are they?"

"Yes, but I'm not going to argue over it or something that might never happen!"

Although Remus tried to share Nymphadora's optimism, he wasn't surprised when an owl delivered a note from Dix on the morning of the full moon. I should have expected this, he thought, tossing Thialfi an owl treat. He's giving Kemp as little time to get suspicious and run as possible.

In his cage, Strix hissed at the fluffy-feathered visitor.

"Guests first, my friend."

The larger owl relaxed his stiff plumage and regally accepted a treat.

Remus took out his communication mirror. "Nymphadora."

Her face appeared on the reflective surface within seconds. "Hello, love. Guess where I am?" She went on before he had time to answer. "I'm in the Shrieking Shack, doing a bit of dusting, chalking a circle of protection, casting a couple of comfort charms."

"I just received an owl from Dix."

Nymphadora's lips tightened. "Waits to the last second, doesn't he? Bastard." She took a deep breath. "Okay. You have to be with the pack. I can deal with that." She bit her lip. "Can you deal with it?"

Remus honestly didn't know. He said, "I'll tell you in the morning."

"Maybe I'll see you before then, in our dreams."

"If I'm allowed to sleep."

Nymphadora's mouth trembled, and then firmed. "I'll put my rock that aids dreaming beneath my pillow, then, so I'll dream of you no matter what."

He doubted a piece of jade had magical powers, but if it made Nymphadora sleep easier, Remus would keep his opinion to himself. "I need to show Will the note," he said, reluctant to end their connection. "If I'm unable to use the mirror until tomorrow, sweet dreams, my love."

"Sweet dreams. I love you."

Remus was painfully aware of the reason her reflection vanished so quickly; she didn't want him to see her cry. Feeling guilty and drained by the beast gaining strength with every passing hour, he slowly made his way downstairs.

-

A/N: Outlining a chapter is like a box of chocolates, heh, or a colouring page—you never know what you're going to get when you start writing, because sometimes inspiration leads you to colour outside the lines. I meant to get to the R/T full moon togetherness, but things didn't work out that way, so the action and adventure will happen next chapter. Black Annis is a blue-skinned hag who eats children in folklore, but in HP she sent a letter to the Prophet protesting that stereotype. :D. As for werewolves, there is no mention of any scars on Remus' face or hands in canon, (the films are not canon, lol) and I refuse to believe Harry would've overlooked them while describing everything else, so I believe they heal magically. The readers whose reviews cheered like magic last chapter were...40/16, adrienne06052, alix33, Alone All Along, bookworm1102, Calenmarwen, Carnivalgirl, ElspethBates, Enorance, Freja Lercke-Falkenborg, GraceRichie, ishandtwofourths, Kates Master, Ladyofthebookworms, MollyCoddles, Moontime, Mrs.Hermione Jane Weasley, n1264, Nagini Fay, obliviate36, Operamuse, Phoenixtear19, rebekahsc, Siriusblack18, siriuslycoco, Sivaroobini Lupin-Black, Slipknot-3113, sunny9847, tambrathegreat, twouble, UnderworldBabe, Writer Merrin, your nightmare, and Ziroana.