Chapter Two-Winter

December

Hazaar! Tis' Christmas, am enjoying the company of Messers Jim Beam and Johnny Walker. Chur. Have ignored all invitations, Molly, Mum, co-wizards, will enjoy being on my own on the most miserable day of the year, apart from maybe Valentines Day. Bloody Hell, who could that be at the door...

Oh my God. It was Remus. I still can't believe it. The blighter actually came to see me. He said Molly said I'd be on my own. I just can't believe it, I wasn't expecting any company at all, least of which Remus. He brought me loads of food from the Weasley's, and after seeing how thin I've got (depression can do some bloody miracles) he insisted I eat with him. He seemed guarded at first, but he asked how I was doing. I didn't exactly lie, but I told him I was doing well. Ok, it was a lie.

He said that no one should be alone on Christmas, least of which a pretty girl like me. Yeah, my mousy brown hair is really pretty. Still, it was kind of him to say.

I didn't know how to act around him at all. How does one act around someone you love but who cannot or does not want to be with you yet shows up on Christmas Day looking all concerned and forlorn? Very confusing. My flat was in no state for entertaining, so I stored the leftovers and we nipped over to the Three Broomsticks for a proper Christmas meal. Remus had already eaten, but by the look of him, he could stand to eat a bit more as well.

It was actually quite romantic and cozy there. We got a nice quiet table for two, and Madam Rosmerta brought us a carafe of nettle wine first, a lone wax candle sitting between us. He told me everything, everything he's been doing since he left. As he did so, the weariness seemed to ebb from his eyes, as if he was relieving himself of a great burden. I was just lamenting in my head how nice it would be for me to alleviate myself of similar burdens, to tell him how much I'd missed him, and how badly I wanted to shag him when he reached across the table to hold my hand. My heart stopped and he looked into my eyes.

"Dora. I've missed you so. But," there was a huge pause in which we just looked at each other. "What's happened to your hair?" It might not have been that funny, but it was just the tension breaker that we needed, and we both had a good laugh, even if I did so in spite of myself. He said he'd liked the bubble gum pink, and even the violet shade I'd sported, but I didn't have the heart to tell him I couldn't morph anymore. The laughter died out gradually and he turned serious for a moment. After contemplating the hand he held in his, he turned his gaze on me, our eyes locked. "You know if things were different, I mean, if it wasn't for..."

Then Hagrid came bursting in, singing a carol at the top of his voice. By the look of it, he'd had his share of wine as well. Remus took his hand away and looked a little sheepish. It makes me wonder, does he not want to be with me because of him or me? It's kind of a pointless question, I know the biggest problem is just the whole situation.

I told him what I was up to with the order, and he nodded almost as if it was all redundant information. Makes me wonder if Dumbledore told him, or if he'd asked. He inquired about my health, saying I was looking peaky, and of course I replied the same could be said about him. He laughed, his eyes sparkling. God, he's beautiful. We caught up on all subjects, work, family. It was so lovely to be in his company again. I just love being around him, and I swear he feels the same about me. I've never seen him light up around anyone else the same. Could be my mad imagination.

After our meal was finished and all wine carafes emptied, he walked me back to my flat. It was late and dark, the moon hung safely in the sky at half, stars glittered along side, and a light snow was drifting down silently, silver and glowing in the moonlight. At my door I took off my cloak and shook my hair, snowflakes matting it to my forehead. Remus reached out to brush it away, his hand lingering for the slightest of moments on my cheek. He suddenly seemed very close. Unable to stop myself, I reached for his shoulder and pulled him to me. He made the slightest noise, one of a man straining to hang on to the last of his reserve. I said his name.

"Dora, please, you know we can't," he said, not looking at me properly but his hand already at my hip, his thumb stroking the waistband of my jeans. "We've been over this. I'm too old, too poor, and too bloody dangerous, you deserve someone better." His voice was very hoarse and his hands were on me as if they were acting of their own accord, having freed themselves of his control. He was so close, I inhaled his wonderful woodsy, musky scent that I'd missed so much.

"I don't care," I breathed, "We can overcome all that, Remus, I, I love you!" I can't believe I said it, I didn't mean to let it slip. I could feel the energy of his heart surging close to mine, his face transported into a world of sudden, unexpected, unforeseen, impossible ecstasy. He grabbed me, the tiniest of moans escaped his lips before he drew down to kiss me. It was fast, desperate, and immeasurably passionate. His stubble felt glorious, as I tasted him for the first time. He kissed me before, last Christmas, but that was friendly and chaste, not like this kiss at all. It was as if he was kissing my soul.

Then, as quickly as it had started, it ended. He tore himself away, turned, and stumbled out the door. I think I heard him say "I'm sorry" before he disapperated. Just like that. A 'pop' and he was gone.

I stood dazed, disorientated. I glanced at an empty bottle of whiskey on the floor and wondered if it had all been some extraordinary, horrible hallucination, but no. I could still feel the lingering sensation of his lips on mine, his taste still dancing on my tongue, his stubble scrapping my cheek. I reached up and touched my face, dumbfounded. For a second I thought I would faint. I limped over to my bed and sank into it, reality diffusing around me.

January

'Lo. Happy bloody New Year. I spent the first night with my old mates in London. It was the first time I'd seen them in ages. It was nice to catch up, but I could have done with out their sympathetic stares and constantly asking me what's wrong. They know the gist of the situation, not all the details, I couldn't tell them everything, security and all. 'Constant vigilance.' Whatever.

They say I should just forget about him and move on with my life. Maybe not bad advice in normal circumstances, but they just don't get that I really love him. He's perfect for me, he's smart, sincere, loyal, experienced, powerful, and dead sexy. I could bring so much joy into his life, and him to mine, if he'd only let me. I received a letter from him a few days ago. Want to see it? He wrote it in a code we made up last year, I already deciphered it. Here it is...

"Dear Nymphadora,

I wish to apologize most heartily for my actions of the previous week. It was quite wrong and highly inappropriate of me and I'm sorry. You are a beautiful, talented young lady and I believe it to be in your best interest to seek affections from someone worthy of you. I am far too dangerous to be near you, it is unthinkable, and I would never be able to forgive myself if I was responsible for the contamination someone of your potential and value to the wizarding community. Furthermore, I am too impoverished to ever keep you living in the manner that you deserve. I wish you nothing but the best of health and happiness.

Your truly,

Remus"

Bastard. I keep reading it over and over, I keep checking the code to make sure I've got it right. How can he be sorry he kissed me? The bigger question is, how can I have in my hands on such overwhelming evidence that he doesn't want me, how ever nice and avoidant he tries to say it, yet I still have this damn hope in my heart. Yes, I still have hope for us, a hope I cannot extinguish. Don't know why.

It makes me think of Sirius, God I miss him. I can't say exactly what he would say, but I bet he'd be taking my side. He put a lot of stock into guts, you know, intuition. I wish I could talk to him. Hell, I wish he could talk to Remus, maybe he could talk some sense into him. His stupid letter made it sound like I'm some bloody princess that should just sit around and wait for some stupid prince. Why can't he get it through his skull that he's the one I want? Don't I get a say in this? Don't I get to choose?

It was the kiss. It's the kiss that's giving me hope, even if he said he was sorry for it.

Gods, anyway, work is ok, if not rather boring. Proudfoot, Savage, Dawlish, and I have near daily meetings, but we still don't know how it all happened to Katie Bell. Poor girl, she's still in hospital.

February

Oh goodie, it's Valentines Day, the most dreaded day of the year for young single persons such as myself. Sadly, I got the obligatory Valentine from Mum, and a few from my mates, urging me to cheer up and move on, as it were. Also, I received a rather odd an unexpected gift, a bar of chocolate send up from Honeydukes, with no note or name attached. I don't think I'll eat it (what would Mad Eye say) but it reminds me of Christmas two years ago now when Remus gave everyone a bar. Some running joke, I think, that I wasn't in on. Could it be from him? I've no idea. Can't let my wishes let me be suckered into being poisoned. Constant vigilance. Yet I think I'll keep it around, it's sort of nice to fantasize that it's from Lupin. Also, I did a few spells to check, it's not dangerous or hiding any secrets.

I haven't written back to him, what could I say? I accept your stupid, self-defeating reasons for us not being together? He's still among the werewolves, as far as I know, and as I've said before, I'd never do anything to compromise that. I think him receiving an owl, even coded, might be a little suspicious. That community is so private. I worry about him constantly. And no, I still can't morph, and yes, I still don't care.

I've been getting the Daily Prophet to check the news, nothing on him yet, thankfully. Still, I worry that something could happen to him. These are dangerous times. Even if he doesn't want to be with me, I don't care, as long as he's safe. I hear only whispers and probably half-truths of what's really going on and it kills me that I have no idea if the man I love is shielded. It's making me mad, more mad than just not being with him, or any of that silly stuff. This is no game, I realize that now more than ever.

Yours,

N. Tonks

AN- Look, I know it's not an exact science, but I swear I can write faster when I get more reviews. Praise and constructive criticism equally appreciated, thank you.