Remus gathered Nymphadora into his arms, closing his eyes to draw in her scent and savour her warmth. This was what he had missed while they were apart. She burrowed closer, shifting in a way that centred his thoughts on something else he'd longed for.
He prudently loosened his hold. "If this is your demure costume," he said, only half-joking, "I'd love to see your daring one."
Her smile was playfully wicked. "It's underneath."
His hands tightened on her hips.
Will and Lillie chose that moment to join them.
"Dix is going to spin the orb!" Will grinned at them in boyish excitement. "You two have to dance with us!"
"I don't think—" Remus began.
"You dance with us, then, Nym," Lillie said. "Show him what he's missing!"
"Okay," Nymphadora replied, allowing the girl to pull her toward the small dance floor.
A hypnotic whisper filled the pub.
There's a werewolf at the door.
Remus watched his lover's mouth shape the words.
There's a werewolf at the door.
There's a werewolf at the door.
There's a werewolf at the...
After the sound of a drumstick tapping a cymbal twice, the singer's voice rose to scream, "DOORRR!"
The song's whisper transitioned into an angry growl.
Nothing wrong with being STRONG
Will and Lillie's hands were beating the air.
Nothing wrong with being FREE
Nymphadora danced with sexy, controlled movements.
Nothing wrong with being RAW
Her eyes never left his while she sang.
Nothing wrong with being—one!
Bonds are going to break.
Two!
Bonds are going to break.
The way she moved her hips made Remus wish he were the only man watching.
Three!
Bonds are going to break...
His inner tension was mounting along with the song, peaking when the singer screamed.
NOWWW!
A wave of metal pounded through the room. The three dancing weren't the only ones snapping their necks back and forth. Pack members around the room were getting into the music, with two notable exceptions. Delia had put her hands to her ears to block what she likely considered "noise." Next to the bar, Cleave seemed mesmerised by Nymphadora's long hair swinging back and forth.
Remus walked onto the dance floor.
"She rocks-out hard!" Lillie yelled.
Nymphadora took his outstretched hand.
Will was bouncing to the rhythm, adding to the image of an overgrown pup. "He wants her to rock his world in private!"
Remus couldn't deny that he wanted to be alone with his partner, although his motivation wasn't primarily sexual.
The pack viewed their exit differently. Wolf-whistles and lewd comments trailed them into Dix's office. Remus shut the door and faced his lover.
She smiled. "I do want to rock your world, but not in here."
He followed her into the private toilet. "This isn't what—"
Nymphadora placed a red-polished fingertip against his mouth. "I know." She locked the door and kissed him soundly before leaning back against the wall.
Remus' pulse skyrocketed when she pulled up her skirt. "Nym—"
"Shhh…." She removed a tiny vial and a brushing/flossing mint from her garter. "Tastes foul," she said, barely above a whisper.
His eyes cut to the door. "Thank you," he murmured, drinking the potion. Remus used a non-verbal spell to get rid of the vial.
Nymphadora twined her arms around his neck. "I had an ulterior motive for giving you the mint."
Remus wondered if his smile appeared as wolfish as it felt. "Was it for the same reason you didn't pull down your skirt?" He pressed closer.
She fluttered her eyelashes. "Why, yes, Professor." Nymphadora breathed into his ear, "Until somebody knocks on the door, I'm going to enjoy establishing our cover." She licked his earlobe before taking it gently between her teeth. "Enjoy you covering me."
He turned his head to capture her teasing lips. Her fingers speared through his hair, their heated kisses making Remus' blood rush.
Needs he'd tried to bury rose violently to the surface. The pain was as pleasurable as his lover's nails raking down his back. Driven to increase the ache, Remus said, "I want to see what's underneath." He pushed the sleeves of Nymphadora's blouse off her shoulders.
"It's crushed velvet," she said huskily.
He brushed silken skin with his fingertips before rubbing the fabric of her low-cut bra. "Are your panties red, too?"
"Find out for yourself." She nuzzled his throat, lightly sucking.
He rocked against her. "This can't go anywhere."
"Sure it can. Here or the basin unit—take your pick."
Remus groaned. The situation was getting out of hand. "Not here," he said reluctantly. "Dix could come into the office at any time—"
"Dix is here." Cleave's voice revealed the lack of privacy ward. "Don't keep him waiting."
Nymphadora flashed a two-fingered salute at the door. "Sorry!" she called. "We'll be right out!"
Remus pulled up the sleeves of her blouse while she tugged her skirt down and smoothed out the leather before finger combing his hair into place. He turned the handle, reciting Arithmancy equations to gain composure.
Nymphadora strolled past Cleave to address the man sitting behind the desk. "Hullo, nice to finally meet you."
Dix shook her hand. "I'd say it was a pleasure but you've displeased me greatly."
"I'd apologise," Nymphadora said, "but I'm not sorry I dumped the memory."
"Not yet," Cleave growled.
Dix waved them to seats in front of the desk. "I find it hard to believe that you made the decision unilaterally, Miss…."
"Just Nym, and when it comes to Remus, I do what's best for him—whether anyone likes it or not." Her gaze flickered sideways.
Even me? Remus smiled faintly.
Her lips tilted up at the corners.
Dix said, "Cleave, pour our guests a drink."
Spiked with Veritaserum, Remus thought.
Nymphadora winked so quickly he almost missed it. She turned her eyes to Dix. "You brew real ale, don't you? I'd like to try it."
"Later."
Cleave was pouring Firewhisky into a pair of tumblers.
"Only a splash for me, please." Nymphadora made a face. "Never fancied the taste, even when I got to the bottom of the glass. Always had the urge to check my teeth for bits of peat."
Dix said, "Ogden's Best is very smooth."
Nymphadora sniffed the glass Cleave handed her. "It doesn't smell like fermented bog water. That's promising." She downed the Firewhisky and began to cough. "Oh, yeah, s—smooth!"
Remus sipped his drink, idly wondering if Veritaserum had an odour or flavour. If so, Firewhisky effectively camouflaged it.
Cleave remained standing beside Nymphadora's chair. "You've smelled fermented bog water?"
"Fell into a bog," she said. "I was trying to collect a Boletophagus Reticulatus. Do you like beetles?"
"No."
Nymphadora shrugged. "Not surprising. They don't have the appeal of something warm and furry." She cut her eyes toward Remus.
His lips twitched. She looked like a sex kitten and acted kittenish too, playfully batting at every dangled string of conversation. Cleave didn't appear to know what to make of her.
Dix said, "Drink up, Brother John."
"That reminds me of a children's song," Nymphadora said brightly. "Frère Jacques, Frère Jacques, Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous?"
Remus drained his Firewhisky. "I believe it's time to answer questions, love."
She bit her lip as if chastened. "Okay."
"You implied that thwarting my use of blood magic was in your mate's best interest, Nym," Dix said coolly. "Explain."
She scooted forward to sit at the edge of her seat. "You remaining healthy and in charge is what's in his best interest." Nymphadora braced a hand on the desk. "You're the one with the plans and the money to make things better. What happens if you die? If Brenda dies? The Salford pack becomes a copy of Inverness, that's bloody what."
"What's wrong with the Inverness pack?" Dix made a steeple of his fingers. "Who are you to criticise?"
"I'm someone who loves her mate, who thinks werewolves deserve to do more than live hand to mouth, stealing and killing for food—and promises that aren't worth the parchment they're written on."
"Greyback's promises aren't written on parchment," Cleave said in his deep rumble.
"I didn't think they were." She glanced guiltily at Remus. "Am I being too honest?"
He shook his head. "This above all: to thy own self be true."
"And it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man," said Dix.
"Wow. You men know your Shakespeare." Nymphadora shifted in her chair to look up at Cleave. "Anything you want to recite?"
Her tone was facetious. Remus blinked in surprise when Cleave spouted poetry.
I dream
Of black skies
Littered with starlight
Of quiet sounds
Rustlings
Murmurs of the timid
The sleeping
The hiding
That is when I walk
As a king through this realm
Nymphadora smiled. "Gorgeous imagery. Did you write it?"
"Another werewolf did—Smith Cassidy."
"I know a werewolf poem, too," she said. "Even a man who is pure in heart/ And says his prayers by night/ May become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms/ And the autumn moon is bright."
Cleave arched a brow. "Did you write it?"
"I heard a werewolf say it—Lon Chaney Jr. Ever heard of him?"
"No."
Remus had. The "werewolf" was an actor who, along with his father, featured in the classic Muggle song "Werewolves of London." He coughed to disguise an inadvertent chuckle.
"Now that everyone has demonstrated his or her erudition..." Dix waited for all eyes to focus on him before saying dryly, "Where were we?"
Nymphadora's upraised hand reminded Remus of Hermione Granger. Like his former pupil, she spoke without waiting to be called on. "I was explaining why I'm not a fan of Greyback."
Dix tilted his head, regarding her speculatively. "You say you prefer my leadership, but wouldn't you rather your mate be Alpha?"
She burst out laughing. "Do I look like Lady Macbeth to you? Keep your crown, Duncan. Remus is my Alpha, and all I want is his happiness."
"And you, Wolfe brother?"
Remus faced Dix squarely. "She is my happiness, and my only ambition is to help this pack succeed." Succeed in business and succeed in becoming independent, not pawns of Dark wizards. He said understatedly, "I am no admirer of Fenrir Greyback."
Dix chuckled. "No, I suppose not. Yet you admire me?"
Aside from your stand on pack discipline. "Yes." If Remus had met someone like Dix after the first war—when the Order disbanded and he had no family or friends—his life might have taken a much different road. Remus' gaze flickered over Nymphadora. He was thankful to have travelled the path that led to her.
Dix's voice sharpened. "Will you admire me as I continue to weaken with every moonrise? When I eventually lose my strength and status as Alpha?"
"You don't need blood magic to keep your strength," Remus said.
"That's for me to decide," Dix said. He asked Nymphadora, "Where did you find the spell?"
"I don't know," she said.
"Who found it for you?"
"I don't know."
"Who erased your memory?"
Nymphadora shook her head. "It wasn't erased. It was removed. I don't know who I got to do it or how it was done."
Dix's jaw tightened. "What did she tell you about the blood magic?" he asked Remus.
"She performed the spell during the full moon. I never asked for details. What I do know," Remus said strongly, "is that Wolfsbane Potion allows you to keep your faculties during the change—greatly lessening the strain on your body."
"Greyback doesn't allow the use of Wolfsbane Potion," Dix said. "If I purchase it, I take the chance that he finds out." His smile was mirthless. "His nature is less forgiving than mine."
"I'll make the purchase for you." Remus heard Nymphadora's intake of breath and was relieved when she didn't protest.
Cleave said, "And if Greyback finds out?"
"I'll take every precaution to ensure that doesn't happen," Remus said, "but if he does, I'll take the consequences." His lips twisted. "I've survived them before."
"Will you give a Wizard's Handshake on it?" Dix asked.
The Wizard's Handshake transformed a promise into a magical bond. The penalty for breaking faith was pain that rivalled a Cruciatus Curse. Only an Unbreakable Vow carried a harsher sentence.
Remus didn't hesitate.
It was all Tonks could do to stop herself from grabbing his hand.
Remus might admire Dix, but she thought he needed to stand up to Greyback instead of asking another man to take his punishment.
After the handshake, Tonks noticed that Remus was surreptitiously wriggling the fingers of his right hand. "Are you okay?" she asked.
"It's only parasthesia," he said.
She gave him a blank look.
Remus smiled a little. "It's the sensation of pins and needles. The spell put pressure on the nerves, making it feel as though my fingers had fallen asleep."
She took his hand in hers, gently massaging. "As long as it's not parasites. I'd hate to spend our first night together in ages at St. Mungo's."
"I'm fine," he said.
"Yes, you are," she purred.
"And to think Cleave suspected that you two were conspiring in the loo instead of having a snog," Dix said, with an amused glance toward his second in command.
Cleave barked at her, "What's your full name?"
She gave him the truth—as she saw it. "Nym is all you need to know."
"Who are your parents?"
"A witch and a wizard."
"Their names?"
"Mum and Dad."
Cleave turned to Remus, "What's her occupation?"
"Enquiry agent."
"Where does she live?"
"Anywhere she has to."
"Do you trust her?"
"With my life."
Cleave's huff sounded frustrated. "If you two are so in love, why haven't you married?"
Remus answered instantly. "I'm too old, too poor, and too dangerous."
"Bollocks," she snapped. "You can say it a million times but it won't be true."
"It is true." Cleave's voice rang with certainty. "He isn't lying."
Tonks jumped to her feet. "That's because he's been brainwashed by a society ruled by fear and prejudice. The anti-werewolf articles in the Prophet are as bullshit as anything churned out by the Quibbler." She jabbed her finger at Cleave. "Do you let the Ministry—the papers—define who you are?"
"Hell, no."
"Good for you, mate." She looked at Dix. "Do you have any more questions? I'd like to grab a drink at the bar. I need one."
He rose and held out his hand. "What we discussed in this room and what goes on in this pack is never to be spoken of to outsiders. Shake on it."
"A Witch's Handshake? Fine." She clasped his fingers and yelped when she lost sensation in her hand. "Ouch!" she cried, as she regained feeling. "Pins and needles my arse! It's like being stabbed with daggers!"
"You've been stabbed by daggers?" Cleave asked incredulously.
"Only one, actually. The "disabled" wizard I caught re-enacting the Battle of Hastings instead of lying in bed wasn't thrilled to be photographed. I knew his knife was charmed to bend against skin," she said, "but it still scared the shite out of me when he yelled, "Die, Norman scum!"
"I'm sure," Dix said smoothly. "Go have a drink. Your mate will join you in a few moments."
"All right." She could feel Remus' stare, but avoided his eyes to keep from screaming or crying. How could he be so smart and yet so stupid?
"What'll it be, luv?" the shepherdess at the bar said over the music. Her smile was sunny. "I'm Brenda, by the way, if your mate hasn't told you about me."
"He did. Nice to meet you, Brenda. I'm Nym, and I'd like a pint of ale, please."
"We've got all kinds, light, dark, fruity, hoppy, mild or crisp."
"Light."
"Light it is."
"I'll take mine strong and dark," said a voice behind her.
The older werewolf beside Tonks almost toppled off his stool in his eagerness to give it up. "Have my seat, Cleave."
Brenda placed their glasses on the bar.
Tonks admired the deep gold colour and took a drink. "Mmm," she said. "There's the taste of fresh oranges with a leafy bite at the end—how's your mild ale?"
"D'you fancy chocolate and toffee?"
"Who doesn't?"
Cleave leaned over and did his sniffing thing. Did he think she was lying? He said, "Your skin smells of oranges and something sweet and flowery—intoxicating."
"Like beer," she said lightly. "My soap is orange blossom and ylang ylang. It's Remus' favourite." She sipped her beer, pretending Cleave wasn't trying to get on with her.
Cleave didn't take the hint that she wasn't interested. "I know why he likes it," he said. "What I don't know is why you fancy an old wolf."
"He's in his prime." She hopped off the barstool, intending to go wait for Remus by the office door.
His hand shot out to capture her wrist. "Dance with me."
"I already have a partner," she said, tugging against his grip. "Let me go."
He pulled her closer. "And if I don't?"
She cast a non-verbal spell, watching her fingernails become cat claws, extending forward and down. Tonks dug them into Cleave's forearm. "You'll have nasty scratches."
He abruptly released his hold.
Tonks spun on her heel and came face-to-face with her lover. Dix was behind him. "Wotcher, Remus," she said. "I was just—erm—having a chat with Cleave."
"So I saw."
The last thing she wanted was conflict. "Let's dance," she said, taking his hand.
Remus followed her to the far corner of the dance floor. "I can't dance to this music," he said.
She moved in close, pressing her hands against his chest. "The only rhythm I need is the beating of your heart."
He looked deeply into her eyes. "Even if I'm old, poor, and dangerous?"
Tonks slid her hands up to encircle his neck. "I don't care about age or money." She used the Unguis spell and raked the tip of a claw across his nape. "And I'm much more dangerous than you'll ever be."
His arms went around her waist. "Maybe you are."
"Would you have me any other way?" She smiled, but inside, uncertainty gnawed at her confidence. Too many times in her life, people she cared about had wanted her to change.
"No."
She rose up on tiptoe to kiss him. They swayed together, sliding their feet in a slow, intimate dance, moving to the beat of their hearts.
A/N: Special Thanks to a Muggle American poet, Smith Cassidy, for allowing me to use a quote and make him/her a werewolf. Dead poets I use and credit without compunction: living ones I like to ask permission. :)
In this chapter, the MegaMaggot song is one that, years later, will become a Muggle hit (with a few changes, because Muggles believe werewolves are fictional and most sites don't allow writers to use direct lyrics.) ;) If readers don't listen to stations that play songs like Drowning Pool's Bodies, the tune could be familiar from video games, films, or sports. If someone hasn't heard "Let the bodies hit the floor, Let the bodies hit the floor" and is curious after reading the chapter, there's always youtube. Personally, I much prefer 'The Matrix Let the bodies hit the Floor' fan video to the band's.
The Shakespeare quoted was from Hamlet, the poem Tonks "heard" Lon Chaney Jr. speak was from the classic film The Wolf Man. (What a fab Muggle Gran she has, exposing her to EastEnders and horror films!)
For all of you who sang sonnez les matines, sonnez les matines, after dormez-vous, I heart you for that, because I did too. :D The French equivalent of Jacques is James, but the English like things to rhyme, so their version changed Jean to John when they sang, "Are you sleeping?" Ding, dang, dong!
I first used the Wizard Handshake in a D/G fic written pre-HBP, when Arthur wanted more than Draco's word that he wouldn't "take advantage" of Ginny's feelings. I still prefer it when a situation isn't Unbreakable Vow serious. :D
The readers who reviewed last chapter without any vow or handshake twisting their arms to make my day sunnier were…40/16, adrienne06052, alix33, Calenmarwen, Carnivalgirl, EllaQueenB, ElspethBates, flutterby162, Freja Lercke-Falkenborg, GoodQueenA, GraceRichie, ishandtwofourths, Ladyofthebookworms, MollyCoddles, Moontime, obliviate36, ombrerose92, Operamuse, RahNee, Slipknot-3113, sunny9847, tambrathegreat, Too.Nice.1108, your nightmare, and Ziroana.