Remus ran a thumb over the reflective surface of the communication mirror. His thoughts dwelled on Nymphadora. He didn't begrudge her a change of scenery or the dinner. He wanted her to have an enjoyable evening; she deserved it.
That genuine wish didn't alter the feeling in the pit of his stomach.
He was jealous.
As he slipped the mirror into a pocket, Remus heard his love's voice ringing with exasperation.
This is Jerry, for Merlin's sake! It's like you going to dinner with Will. It isn't a date!
Not to her, but she refused to acknowledge that her Auror partner might view the outing differently. Remus understood why. Jerry was her only true friend in Hogsmeade.
The sound of knocking was a welcome interruption of his thoughts.
"When's dinner?" Will called through the panel.
Remus opened the door. "Less than an hour if I have assistance."
Will's eyes narrowed behind his shaggy blonde fringe. "What do you want me to do?"
Ten minutes later, seated at the wobbly two-seater table in the cramped kitchen, the boy scowled at a half peeled potato. "Glubere is a difficult spell."
Remus used a charm to light the cooker. "You can always peel the Muggle way."
"No I can't. I melted the peeler last week."
"Were you practicing dissolvere?"
"Only after Lillie fancied chips and I gouged my finger trying to make some," Will said with a grin. "We ended up going out."
Remus set an iron skillet on the hob. He breathed in the scent of beef mince and onions and tried not to think about what Nymphadora was having for dinner. With only two days left until the full moon, he craved steak almost as much as he desired his lover. "Melt anything tonight and you'll go hungry."
"No worries. Lillie said she might drag her mum along to dinner. Delia likes cottage pie."
"I didn't think it was our scintillating conversation that appealed." Remus used a charm to defrost a packet of frozen peas before adding them to a bowl with sliced carrots.
Will laughed. "Yeah, Lillie's mum thinks your ideas for the pack are top-lofty." With a flick of his wrist, he finished his task. "There! Done. Want me to levitate them over to the pot?"
"I'd rather not risk scalding." Remus carried the potatoes over. "Excellent spellwork," he said. "Very little veg came off with the peel."
"What can I say? I'm a natural."
The smug tone made Remus smile. If he had yet to sway any pack members from supporting Voldemort, at least he had taught Will the skills needed to live on his own terms as a wizard. He would miss his young friend.
When their guests arrived a half hour later, Remus was checking the pie. The cheese had melted and the chopped leeks had started to brown. He took the dish out of the oven and turned to find Delia watching him from the doorway. "Hullo," he said. He noticed the bottle in her hand. "Red wine—splendid—glasses are in the top left cupboard." He set the pie down on the table and began dishing out the food.
She edged around him to open the cupboard. "I don't see wine glasses."
"We make do with regular glassware."
Lillie had entered the kitchen. "For Merlin's sake, Mum, don't be a snob! I don't give a toss if I drink out of a jam pot. Pour the plonk and let's eat!" She took her plate and Will's out to the lounge.
"Shall I serve the wine while you carry our plates and cutlery?" Remus asked when Delia finished sloshing wine into glasses.
Her eyes met his and skittered away. "It's not plonk, and I was making a statement, not tearing you down, Lupin."
Remus could tell by Delia's tone that she was embarrassed. On top of Lillie's disparagement of the wine as cheap, it would sting to be called a snob, even if one was a reverse snob who assumed "top-lofty" professors drank from crystal flutes. Remus said, "It's quite all right," and picked up the glasses, two in each hand.
In the lounge, Lillie teased Will about the pattern along the edge of the mashed potato topping. "It's pretty. Did you do it to impress me?"
"Of course. The professor showed me how. You take a fork and press the tines—" Will demonstrated the technique.
Remus heard Delia huff and glanced sideways. He said, "My mother taught me to crosshatch everything from biscuits to pastry."
Whether it was due to the wine or the food, her response was almost cordial. "Mine did, too."
"What?" Lillie leaned forward. "You never told me that!"
"You were never interested in cookery," Delia said. "It never came up."
"At least I appreciate good cooking," Lillie said. She smiled at Remus. "Yours is ace—almost as good as Mum's."
"Thank you," Remus said. He was amused by the qualifier added after a nudge by Will.
Hours later, alone in his room, worry had eroded all traces of his earlier good humour.
Nymphadora should have contacted him; it was almost midnight. Had something happened? Was she hurt? No one would know how to reach him in an emergency, or even that she wanted him contacted.
Remus paced back and forth.
Should he wait a little longer, or go directly to Hogsmeade to find out what was going on? He wished he could believe that Nymphadora had lost track of time in a pub holding a darts tournament or perhaps a concert by a local band. If she'd had too much to drink and staggered back to fall into bed, that too would be preferable to the fears clawing at his gut.
Bellatrix...other Death Eaters...Dark wizards she'd sent to Azkaban...there were enemies who would gleefully reduce the number of Aurors in the world. Nymphadora rolled her eyes when Moody harped on constant vigilance. Had she let her guard down and suffered for it?
His hands curled into fists. In the back of his mind, a wolf growled. Remus glanced into the mirror, vaguely surprised not to see his teeth bared in a snarl. He felt in complete harmony with his inner beast. Nothing would stop him from hunting down his mate.
Remus threw on a cloak and strode to the window. A quick scan revealed no watchers below. He yanked open the sash, cast a Supergravity Spell, and jumped. Arms outstretched, he slowly fell to the ground. The moment his feet touched pavement, Remus closed his eyes and concentrated. He couldn't use the nearby wizard pub Floo without someone reporting back to Dix, and he dared not attempt long-distance Apparation yet, but months of study and practice gave him the confidence to attempt a medium-range goal. He visualised the alley beside the Manchester Floo Station and yearned to be there with every fibre of his being. Jaw clenched in determination, he turned on the spot and deliberately moved into nothingness.
He Apparated to exactly the spot he'd visualised. Before he entered the station, Remus pulled his hood up. Although Dix had forbidden petty crime, some of pack took that to mean only in Salford. Kemp, especially, boasted about his pick pocketing and handbag snatching exploits in Manchester.
None of the faces of those who lurked behind columns or glanced up as he passed their benches were familiar. Remus ducked into a Floo.
He stepped out of the fireplace at the Hog's Head and immediately cast a Disillusionment Charm. He wanted no one questioning his right to go upstairs to the lodgers' quarters.
A slight whoosh signalled that someone was about to exit the Floo. Remus backed away and then stood still as a squat witch in a hat and veil swaggered onto the hearth. "Gotta get comfort charms or a new pair of shoes," grumbled the "witch" Remus recognised as Mundungus Fletcher. "Mebbe I could find some what fell off the back of a broom, or barter one of old Walburga's trinkets."
Remus watched Dung teeter out of the Floo chamber. Many in the Order hotly protested the crook's ways, but Sirius wouldn't care how much junk was lifted from Grimmauld. He'd have a laugh about it.
After the tapping of heels faded, Remus went into the tavern. There were no Aurors huddled around scarred tables. At the bar, the veiled Mundungus ordered a drink from the barman. Remus slowly made his way upstairs, listening intently. He heard no creaking floorboards; no sound of water rushing through pipes, nothing to indicate there was anyone awake on the third floor—or that anyone was there at all.
He used the counter ward Nymphadora had given him to enter her room. The bed was empty. Remus checked the bedside table. There was no communication mirror. He shook out the rumpled duvet over the mattress to ensure she hadn't placed it on the bed. It wasn't there. She must be carrying it.
Remus took out his mirror and called her name. Nothing happened. He called her name again, louder.
Be annoyed with me for checking up on you, call me an old woman for worrying, anything, just answer!
He could almost hear the ghostly howl of a wolf crying for his mate. It threatened to rip away what little remained of his composure. Where was she? What had happened to her? "Nymphadora!" he cried, willing her face to appear.
The mirror warmed in his hands.
A man's face appeared. It was Jerry Connolly. His face was shadowed and weary.
Tell me she's not hurt. "Where's Nymphadora?"
"Sleeping. Tonks got—uh—sick." Jerry turned his head as though looking over his shoulder. He faced Remus and said in a hushed tone, "A wizard spiked her drink and, well, she had a bad reaction. Vomiting, fever, hallucinations... She's stable now."
"She was transported to a hospital?"
Jerry's eyes shifted away. "No, the Healer said it wasn't needed. We're in a room at the inn."
Remus was still absorbing the information when Jerry asked, "So...you and Tonks...you've kept in touch through communication mirrors?"
"Every night."
"Oh. That's nice."
"Yes." Remus struggled to keep his tone level. Such transparent disappointment confirmed long-held suspicions.
Jerry was in love with Nymphadora.
That was an issue better dealt with later. "What about the man who spiked her drink?" Remus asked. "Has he been arrested?"
"And a second perpetrator, too. Photographs of women—trophies—were recovered from the premises. Auror and MLE officers are arguing jurisdiction as we..." Jerry looked away, his voice trailing off.
Was Nymphadora's condition worsening? Was she calling for her lover? "Tell me the name of the village," Remus said, "and I'll come—"
"No, she's fine, there's someone's at the door. Probably Dawlish with more questions. I have to go."
"Give her a message when she wakes," Remus said quickly. "Tell Nymphadora I'll be waiting."
"All right."
Magical link severed, the mirror returned to its ordinary state. Remus sank down onto the bed.
Nymphadora drugged...ill...helpless... The images haunted him. He should be the one at her side, caring for her needs, and standing vigil through the night. Instead, Jerry was the one watching over Nymphadora.
Touching her.
He had to stop thinking about it, resist the urge to search Jerry's room for the name of the village. If he went there, he would only jeopardise his mission. Remus laid his head on Nymphadora's pillow and drew in her scent. Deep, slow breaths slowed his pulse and calmed his mind.
He closed his eyes and waited.
-
Tonks opened her eyes and fought down panic. She didn't know where she was or how she got there. She sat up and looked around. The clock on the bedside table read six o'clock. Pale sunlight filtering through lace curtains revealed that it was morning. A wall tapestry and antique pine furnishings matched those she remembered of the inn's gathering room. She was still at the inn—brought upstairs when she fell ill. That made sense.
Her clothes she spied draped across a chair on the other side of the room. Belatedly, Tonks realised all she wore was a man's white shirt. A faint, musky smell of cologne emanated from the fabric.
A sound registered. Water. Someone was taking a shower in the ensuite bathroom.
Remus?
Her heart leapt, and then logic kicked in. Jerry didn't know how to contact Remus. She'd never told him about the communication mirrors, so Jerry thought she was in denial about the relationship. He felt sorry for her.
What a mess.
She prayed Remus had fallen asleep, or assumed she'd drunk too much and was sleeping it off. After two shaky steps toward her trousers and the mirror, a sudden urgency led her to the bathroom instead. "Jerry!" she called, "I'm coming in to piss!"
"Tonks! There isn't a separate toilet!"
"I don't care, I can't wait!" She threw open the door and instantly scrunched her eyes closed. "You could've told me there was a glass shower screen, Jerry."
"Sorry. I'll get a towel and—"
She made a dash for the toilet. "No time. Turn around and rinse the shampoo out of your eyes. Pretend I'm not here."
"Okay." A minute later, he asked, "Are you...finished?"
"I'm not sitting here for fun," she said. "How many litres did you pour down me, anyway?"
"A couple of pitchers of ice water. You had a fever, you needed fluids."
"Thank you for taking care of me." She flushed the commode and then washed her hands and face in the wash basin. "I was stupid not to check that drink—"
"No! It could happen to anyone, and because of you those bastards will be in Azkaban, not preying on women."
She almost turned to look at him. "They're in custody?"
I hope they resisted arrest and got hexed.
"Facing enough charges to keep them in prison for life."
"Good. I'll go change and give you back your shirt."
"Don't worry about it. Savage brought me another one."
She paused at the door, ready to turn the handle. "You let people in the room?" While I was off my bloody head with fever, wearing only knickers and your shirt?
"Just the Healer. Everyone else I spoke to at the door."
"Thanks."
In the bedroom, Tonks took off Jerry's shirt and froze. Why hadn't she noticed before that she didn't smell of sickness? She raised her arm and sniffed. Cologne and eucalyptus scented soap. From the shirt? Tonks put on her bra and tunic and then reached for the trousers.
There was no mirror in the pockets.
She shook her head. No, it wasn't true, she hadn't lost it. It was misplaced. All she needed to do was stay calm and look for it. She searched the bedside tables and then started in on the chest of drawers.
Jerry found her ripping sheets off the bed. "What are you doing?"
Tonks threw down a pillow and lifted the edge of the mattress. "I have to find my mirror!"
He wrapped his fingers around her wrist to stop her from upending the mattress. "It isn't under the bed. I put it on the top shelf of the wardrobe."
The black shirt he wore almost matched the circles beneath his eyes. His jaw was shadowed with stubble. Poor Jerry, he looked like she'd put him through hell—and that was before Tonks barged in on him in the shower. She'd have to make it up to him later, but for now relief outweighed guilt.
"Did it fall out of my pocket?" she asked, crossing to the wardrobe. "Tell me it didn't break."
Her hand was lifting, outstretched, when Jerry said, "Your communication mirror isn't broken."
She wrapped her fingers around the silver frame. "How did you know it's for communication? Did you talk to Remus?"
"Yes." Jerry used his wand to remake the bed.
Tonks stared at him in disbelief. Who cared if the room was tidy? "What are you doing? Tell me when you talked to him, what you said, what he said!" She wanted to shake the words out of him. "Jerry, please."
"I talked to him around midnight," he said. "I told him what happened to you, that you were sleeping and the Healer would check on you in the morning."
"Did he say anything?"
"He said he'll be waiting."
Waiting for me in Hogsmeade, I know it! Tonks wanted to leave, right that second.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Jerry asked.
She looked at him in confusion. "Tell you what?"
"That you're still with Lupin."
"I did," she said. "The day you arrived, I told you things with Remus were complicated. That's why I didn't want to talk about it." She gave a short laugh. "I still don't."
"Well, I do."
Merlin preserve her from well-meaning friends! Tonks took the easy way out an argument. She put it off. "Later, all right? I'm not up for it." She pressed a hand to her stomach. "Is there room service? Could I have some toast? Dry for all I care, I need something in me." She made a face. "One of the few things I remember is that I heaved my dinner."
"What about after that?"
"You picked me up and..." I'm not going to tell you my dreams about Remus. "Everything's hazy."
"Are you sure?"
Tonks could feel a blush warm her face. Some things a girl didn't share with guy friends. "Mmhmm."
Jerry gave her a look that was hard to fathom. If he thought she was lying, at least he didn't call her on it. "All right," he said, "We'll talk another time. I'll go owl the Healer and order some tea and toast."
When he passed her, she caught the distinctive smell of soap. Tonks waited until the door shut to run to the bathroom. In the shower stall, on the built-in ledge for such things, was a bar of soap. She didn't have to pick it up to recognise the scent of eucalyptus. Her heart began to pound.
I must have sweated so much I needed a shower. That's when I dreamed Remus washed my hair. It was me that did it—not Jerry—just me.
She used a spell to remove any trace of scent from her person and walked back to the bedroom to sit in a chair, the mirror clutched in her hand. "Remus," she said. The mirror became cloudy and then his face appeared. Tonks tried to smile. "I'll be there soon."
"I've been waiting for you."
Two hours later, Tonks slipped inside her room at the Hog's Head. She went straight into Remus' arms and buried her face against his chest. "I dreamt you were with me," she whispered. "I felt so bad and you made it better." She turned her face up. "Your warmth and strength is all I want—all I need." Her fingers tangled in his hair. Tonks raised her lips to his. "I love you so much."
He claimed her mouth with a hunger that took her breath away. This was what she needed, the heat that melted away all thought until there was only feeling. The friction of tongues and skin sent fire through her veins. Tonks burned to get closer, to possess and be possessed, and to hear Remus gasp the three words she'd clung to in her delirium.
I love you.
-
A/N: Anyone who's read my stuff long enough knows that when it comes to outlines, my view is piratical: they're more like guidelines, really. I truly meant for this chapter to start in November and end in December, but, well, you can't hurry love or Christmas angst, it seems! I'd say Mea Culpa, but I'd only really be sorry if no one was on the edge of their seat wondering what's going to happen next!
The readers I consider me hearties for giving reviews last chapter instead of stranding me on a philosophical island with no rum were...40/16, adrienne.hope, alix33, AmazingBouncingFerret445, Bandon Banshee, bookworm1102, Calenmarwen, Carnivalgirl, ChristinaAngel, EllaQueenB , ElspethBates, flutterby162, Freja Lercke-Falkenborg, GraceRichie, IrishCailin16, ishandtwofourths, Kates Master, Lady Adrienne Faery, loveformoony, Ladyofthebookworms, MollyCoddles, Moontime, Mrs. Hermione Jane Weasley, obliviate36, Operamuse, Shannon, Slipknot-3113, siriuslycoco, siriuslycrazy4snuffles, sunny9847, SunshineDaisies816, tambrathegreat, xLupinxLoverx, and Ziroana.