The November 17th edition of the Daily Prophet carried a small article about the arrests and subsequent confessions. Tonks was referred to only as "the latest victim." The Auror Office had decided the truth would be an embarrassment and therefore allowed Magical Law Enforcement to take full credit in the public eye. The Office wasn't trying to sweep the matter entirely under the rug. Agents in Hogsmeade received private commendations—and a thinly veiled warning about discretion.
If Proudfoot and Savage were miffed that they couldn't brag about their roles in the apprehension of serial rapists, at least they didn't take it out on her. As for Dawlish, he seemed pleased to gain the approval of the Head of Aurors. Since her return to duty, he hadn't assigned Tonks to night patrol once.
She appreciated the improvement in working conditions. It was nice to be able to accept Fiona and Hamish's dinner invitations and spend time with friends. Remus had procured Wolfsbane Potion for Dix and Brenda and they were taking it regularly. He was optimistic that once they experienced the difference the potion made during and after transformation, they would begin to think for themselves in regards to supporting Voldemort, too.
On the surface, everything was going well. Dawlish approved her request to spend the night of the twenty-fifth away from the village without comment. Remus repeatedly told her how much he looked forward to being together. Her only problem was Jerry.
Since the night he took care of her, Jerry gave off vibes that were progressively harder to ignore. He brought her coffee in the mornings and made a habit out of walking her to her room at night. When they had dinner with Hamish and Fiona, he sat next to her at the table and on the sofa instead of playing games with the kids. Most troubling of all, sometimes he smiled at her in a way only two other men ever had: as if he was remembering what she looked like naked.
Tonks stepped back when Jerry got too close, set her alarm to rise earlier to get her own coffee, and went directly to her room when he would have lingered in the corridor. She did her best to pretend unawareness of the changes he tried to make in their relationship.
She didn't want things to change.
Jerry was the workmate who kept her company at meals and shared her patrols, the friend she had a beer with at the end of the day or won a pint from over a darts match. Because his friendship meant so much to her, Tonks kept quiet and hoped Jerry would snap out of whatever knight-rescuing-the-damsel-in-distress syndrome he'd fallen into. In her conversations with Remus, she acted as if everything was fine. Thankfully, he seemed to believe her.
If stress gave her headaches and made it hard to sleep, she dealt with it by looking at the bright side. She and the apothecary were now on a first name basis. Lachlan even gave her a discount. Her habit of pacing she refused to label as nervous. Tonks kept it to her room and considered it exercise.
The day of the full moon was chill grey and blowing rain. She and Jerry had breakfast and then began to patrol the village on foot. When they passed Macbeth's Multi-Sport, Hamish came to the doorway to greet them.
"Och, it's a bit blowy out."
Tonks squinted in the meagre light. Waterproof Charms kept their cloaks and clothing dry, but didn't protect skin. The world looked like an Impressionist painting until she blinked raindrops out of her eyes. "I thought the forecast was drizzle."
"Weatherwitch predicted 'a good drizzle.' A wee difference."
She threw out her arms. "This is not light rain."
"It is to a Scot." When she grimaced, Hamish laughed. "Come to dinner tonight. Fiona's making a Whisky Chocolate Pudding that'll take the chill out of English bones."
"Ace," Jerry said.
At the same time, Tonks said, "I can't."
Jerry moved in closer. "Why not?"
"I'm taking the night off—leaving the village."
"On a Monday? Is it someone's birthday?"
His proprietary attitude was wearing on her nerves. "No." She shot him a look that said, "Drop it."
After a moment of silence, Hamish said, "You're welcome on your own, Jerry. The lads will be happy to see you."
"Thanks."
Tonks said, "Tell Fiona I want the recipe for that pudding. I'm sorry I'll miss it." She waved goodbye and started walking.
Jerry caught up with her. "If you were really sorry, you'd stay."
True. She quickened her stride.
He kept pace. "Are you going to see Lupin?"
"Yes."
"On a full moon? Is he on Wolfsbane Potion?"
She scanned the street. Candles and illumination orbs brightened the windows of the rain-lashed cottages they passed. Even hardy Scots weren't braving the elements. Her lips twisted. Wasn't there a saying about mad dogs and Englishmen? It applied to more than the midday sun. "Yes. No. And it's my business, Jerry."
He took her arm. "I worry about you."
She glanced at the window of the nearest cottage. Had the lace curtain just twitched into place? Fabulous. No need to guess what the hot topic of conversation would be that night at the Broomsticks. She yanked her arm away. "You shouldn't. I'm going to support Remus, there's no danger."
Jerry's face was pale beneath the hood of his cloak. "He's a werewolf."
"Really? So that's why we never go dancing in the moonlight." She marched onward, wanting nothing more than to finish the patrol. Compared to their conversation, flying the perimeter of the forest in a downpour would be a joy. When Jerry tried to speak, she cut him off. "No. I don't want to hear it. There are safe rooms—spells—things I'm not about to explain. I appreciate your concern, but it isn't necessary and it won't keep me from going to Salford."
He clenched his jaw and didn't speak another word. During the mid-morning staff meeting, Jerry sat in the chair furthest from hers, and at lunchtime, when the rain let up, he accompanied Savage to the Broomsticks.
Tonks ate a sandwich at the Hog's Head bar and almost fell off her stool when Dawlish joined her.
"The roast beef looks good," he said.
She swallowed the bite she was chewing. "Tastes good, too, and as a bonus the horseradish relish will clear your sinuses."
"A definite point in favour," Dawlish said, taking a bite of his own roast beef on crusty loaf.
Tonks drank a swallow of bottled lemonade. She was a little unnerved by her supervisor's presence. He wasn't the type to socialise, especially not with someone he didn't consider to be a "team player." What did he want?
After he finished his sandwich, Dawlish said, "Proudfoot has bronchitis. He'll be in his room the rest of the day, casting steam spells."
"You want me to cover his patrol?" If she hauled broom, she could still make it to Remus' before the change. "Sure. I'll do it."
She hadn't counted on Mrs. Snap storming out of her dress shop to inform her the "sign-defacing hooligan" had struck again. Tonks glanced up. Sure enough, the former Gladrags sign now advertised Gladslags. "Has your business suffered?" she asked while taking the witch's statement.
"No, but I have been subjected to impertinent levity."
Tonks offered her condolences, thinking the woman desperately needed any kind of humour she could get. She then advised Mrs. Snap to upgrade her security wards.
It was almost four o'clock by the time she handed Dawlish her report and was free to leave.
Jerry followed her to the Floo. "Sunset," he said. "You won't see Lupin tonight."
Won't I? She went to the mantel and the box of Floo Powder. "I thought you weren't talking to me."
"I wasn't—but now I am."
His wry tone earned Jerry a half-smile. "Have fun with the Macbeths."
"I don't understand why you can't come with me," he said in a rush as she stepped into the fireplace. "You'll be in the house—alone—with an animal that won't even know you're there. Why not—"
"He'll know." Tonks named her destination and threw down the powder.
She exited the wizard pub in Salford and Apparated to the flat. In the glow of the illumination orb, misty rain looked like snowflakes. Tonks released the wards on the front door and rushed inside. She clattered up the stairs. After sunset, the safe room doors magically locked until morning—but only if a door was shut.
Remus had left his ajar.
"Thank you, baby," she whispered, closing the door behind her.
In a chalked circle, bound by enchantments and chain, her mate stood waiting. He growled.
She dropped to the floor and began to crawl forward on her belly, head lowered in submission. When Tonks heard a huffing sound, she looked up to meet amber eyes. The wolf chomped his teeth behind closed lips, the sound reminding her of a stick dragged along a fence. It was a greeting. She crossed the line of chalk and welcomed the rush of magic sweeping over her.
-
Water pooled at the mouth of the cave. In the shadowy recesses, the alpha sniffed the air. He smelled only the rain—no danger. He turned his head in order to give his mate better access to his muzzle.
She was affectionate as always, first grooming his fur and then licking the corners of his lips. She opened her mouth and closed her jaws over his before licking his face again. When she wriggled closer, murring, he gave a chuff and licked her mouth. After satisfying moments of play, he rested his head over her back, allowing the warmth of her body to soothe him to sleep
-
Remus awoke with his cheek pressed against smooth skin. Nymphadora's shirt had ridden up sometime during the night. His muscles tensed. Had the wolf rested his muzzle on her? He sniffed. His stomach twisted. If the dream had any more base in reality— He sat up, pushing away the chains that had fallen to the floor.
"Good morning, love." Nymphadora shifted onto her back and stretched her arms over her head, arching her body like a cat.
He bent toward her mouth, breathing in his lover's scent and no other. He kissed her passionately and then allowed his body to sag in relief.
She rolled to the side, changing their positions. Her smile was wickedly sexy. "Anytime you want me on top, all you have to do is say so. No squashing necessary."
Remus felt a smile stretch his lips and didn't care if it was wolfish. "Anytime?"
Nymphadora laughed deep in her throat. "Anytime, anyplace, anywhere."
His hands rested on her hips and then stroked upwards. "Anyplace is the informal term for anywhere."
She leaned down to smile into his eyes. "Anyplace means on your body and anywhere is this floor, your bed—wherever you like." Nymphadora's lips grazed his cheek and closed around his earlobe. "See the difference, professor?"
Remus sank his fingers into her hair and brought her mouth to his. "Show me." He caressed her body with his hands, kissing her hotly. Nymphadora squirmed closer. His need grew fierce. He whispered what he wanted to do to her.
The door cracked open. "Lillie's made breakfast." Will's voice was tired. He had neither Wolfsbane Potion nor a magical bond with his partner to lessen the drain of transformation.
Remus gritted his teeth and called, "We'll be downstairs in a few minutes."
"Okay."
After the door shut, Nymphadora made a sound between a moan and a giggle. "A few minutes?"
"A small yet indefinite number." He kissed the column of her throat and then gently sucked. "See the possibilities, love?"
Her response showed that she did.
When they finally made it downstairs, Will was stretched out on a futon while his girlfriend paced back and forth, ponytail swishing.
"There you are!" Lillie cried.
Will jerked awake so violently he fell off the sofa. "No need to shout," he said, rubbing his eyes. "If they're like me, they're not even hungry." He pushed to his feet and yawned. "I could do with a cup of tea, though."
Lillie's eyes were feverishly bright. "Remus isn't like you. He isn't knackered. And Nym—she isn't even a werewolf!"
"Are you taking the mickey?" Will asked. "It's too early for me to laugh at jokes."
"I'm not joking, it's true! After you went into the safe room, I took a shower. I was drying off when I heard someone running up the stairs." Lillie pointed to Nymphadora. "It was her. I peeked through a crack in the door and watched her go into his safe room." Her expression was triumphant. "It was after sunset!"
Will shook his head. "The door would've been locked."
"Not if he left it open."
Nymphadora cut in, "Why does it matter?"
"Are you mental?" Lillie's laughter rang out, shrill and excited. "I want to be with Will the way you are with Remus. Whatever it takes, I'll do it. Teach me—"
"—I can't."
Lillie turned to Remus. "Then you do it. You're the professor. Teach me the spells."
"I can't, either. I'm sorry."
"Why can't you?" Will asked. "Lillie's smart. She earned top marks in Charms—"
"—it has nothing to with ability," Remus said. "I don't know the spells." He reached for Nymphadora's hand.
Her fingers clung tightly. "And I don't have the memory anymore. It's gone."
Lillie's expression hardened. "You selfish bitch."
Nymphadora said, "If I was selfish I would've used my knowledge to gain Remus favour with Dix. I didn't want to chance hurting Brenda, so I got rid of it—end of story."
"It's not the end!" Lillie shouted. "Where the bloody hell do you get off making that kind of decision? The spell didn't hurt you. Why would it hurt Brenda?" Her face contorted. "You're a gobshite. Everything you say is shit. You don't care about anyone but yourself! As long as you get to cosy up to your partner, nothing else matters. I could bloody well Crucio you!"
Nymphadora took a step forward. "Calm down."
The girl had worked herself into hysterics. "I won't calm down! You don't how it hurts not to be with him. You don't know." Lillie sobbed uncontrollably.
"I'm sorry," Nymphadora said softly.
Lillie's eyes were wild. "No you're not, but you will be. Crucio!"
"Protego!" Remus yelled. He wasn't fast enough.
Nymphadora screamed.
The curse knocked her to the ground, but instead of writhing in torment, she groaned, "Remus."
He helped her to her feet, casting every healing spell he could remember.
"I'm all right," Nymphadora said. She faced the girl who huddled in the circle of her boyfriend's arms. "Never used an Unforgivable Curse before, have you, Lillie? You have to mean them to cause lasting pain. Righteous anger isn't Dark enough to hurt anyone for long."
"Oh Merlin," Lillie whispered. "What have I done? I was out of my mind, I didn't mean it—I swear!" She looked up at Will and cried, "We have to run! They'll send me to Azkaban for life!"
Will's eyes flew to Remus. "Is that true?"
"She was beside herself with anger," Remus said. "Once we explain her state of mind the Ministry will surely concede there were mitigating circumstances."
Nymphadora laughed without humour. "They send people to Azkaban without trial. They hold hearings where the accused has no legal counsel. The system is inbuilt injustice."
She was thinking of Sirius and Remus couldn't disagree. Muggles had a rule against bias. Wizards did not. Scrimgeour, Chair of the Wizengamot, was prejudiced against werewolves. No doubt he would show bias against the lover of one. How could Lillie hope for a fair trial, much less clemency? Remus said, "What can we do?"
"Make sure the Ministry never knows."
"But I cast a curse," Lillie said. "Aurors will trace the spell to this flat."
"Not necessarily. The Ministry doesn't have enough personnel to monitor every street in every town," Nymphadora said briskly. "Even if Salford's under heavy watch, the Aurors will only detect a surge of Dark magic. Since you didn't use a wand, Tracking Spells can only pinpoint the magic's area of origin—not the exact incantation or who cast it." She smiled thinly. "Fortunately for law enforcement, most wizards and witches need wands to focus their spells."
Remus asked, "What if they narrow the area enough to search house to house?"
"Then she's in trouble." Nymphadora faced Lillie and told her, "Dark magic is like blood. You can try to wash it off but traces remain. They'll detect it, arrest you, and interrogate until you break down and confess."
"How do you know all this?" Will asked.
"I know. Leave it at that," Nymphadora answered.
Lillie bit her lip. "What do I do?"
Remus exchanged a speaking look with his mate. "Go to Inverness and owl your mother that you decided to settle in early," he said. "I'll send Will's things and help Delia do the same with yours."
Lillie didn't move. She asked Nymphadora, "Why are you helping me?"
"Besides my rage against the system? I don't want trouble for the pack. An investigation could mean the end of Black Wolf Brewery." After a pause, Nymphadora said in a kinder tone, "And I don't agree with the Ministry's definition of unforgivable."
Lillie ran across the room to throw her arms around Nymphadora. "I'm so sorry," she said. "Please forgive me."
"I will if you promise to always use a jinx or a hex instead of curses."
"I promise."
Remus held out his hand. "You've been my finest student, William—and I've taught some of the best. Take care."
Will shook his hand. "I can never repay what you've done for me, but if there's ever anything..." His throat worked visibly as he swallowed.
Remus understood; his throat was tight as well. It was hard to lose a friend.
After the young couple left, Remus followed his love into the kitchen. It was a mess, with dirty utensils and crockery littering every surface except the table. Lillie did not adhere to the "clean as you go" style of cookery.
"Be a shame to waste food," Nymphadora said, removing the stasis cover from a platter of bacon.
Remus accepted a piece and took a bite. It was savoury and crisp. "Will must have grilled the bacon. Lillie's efforts are half burnt and half raw."
Nymphadora took the cover off a dish of runny scrambled eggs. "Is there such a thing as an anti-salmonella spell? Will's going to need one."
"Along with a repertoire of Cleaning Charms."
They traded smiles.
Just then, the wards on the front door chimed.
"Stay here," Remus said. "If it's an Auror, I don't want them to see you and ask questions."
"D'you mind if I finish off the bacon while I wait?" she said. "I'll take you out to breakfast afterwards."
He hadn't forgotten what it felt like to be young and hungry. "Go ahead."
She blew him a kiss that reminded Remus he still experienced many types of hunger. He smiled a little as he walked to the door.
Cleave stood on the front step. "Dix wants to see you." He jerked his head toward the Squire Cab idling at the kerb. "Now." Dark eyes flickered past Remus' shoulder. Cleave inhaled sharply and smirked as he said, "Alone."
-
A/N: Those of you who read For Bitter or for Worse know why it's taken me so long to update this story. Those who haven't will at least be glad to know I've finished the other story and George will no longer lure me away from Remus. :D The 'Och, it's a bit blowy' line was taken from a GORP article about braving the Highlands in November. Research...it's a good thing. ;) Doctor Who fans might recognise "Mad dogs and Englishmen" as the title of a Doctor novel, but the expression "mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun" was taken from the 1931 song by Noel Coward.
If anyone's wondering if the Crucio scene was patterned on the one in OotP and if Tonks unknowingly mirrored her aunt's words to Harry when she spoke to Lillie—the answer is yes. :D Tonks is a Black, whether she appreciates her "black streak" or not.
Next chap will be Christmas, pinky promise. I was looking forward to writing festivities at the Burrow this chapter, but inspiration led me down another path.
The readers I'm grateful to for following the page down to submit a review last chapter were...40/16, A Broadwaylvr, adrienne.hope, alix33, Bandon Banshee, bookworm1102, Calenmarwen, Carnivalgirl, ChristinaAngel, EllaQueenB , ElspethBates, ishandtwofourths, Lady Adrienne Faery, Ladyofthebookworms, MollyCoddles, Moontime, Mrs. Hermione Jane Weasley, n1264, obliviate36, Operamuse, Rose of the West, Slipknot-3113, Siriusblack18, siriuslycoco, sofia666, sunny9847, SunshineDaisies816, tambrathegreat, vintagejgc, and xLupinxLoverx.