A/N: This fic was written for the January rtchallenge in response to a prompt that was a picture of a broken egg. :)

A Lesson Learned

Crack!

Remus had barely a second to take in the egg that had splattered on the pavement by his feet when a second missile slapped into the back of his head, spreading yolky, shell-prickled wetness down the back of his neck.

"Animal!"

"Werewolf scum!"

"Crawl back to the forests where you belong!"

"You endangered my children!"

"Get out of here!"

"Pretending to be human! We know what you are!"

"Beast!"

"Brute!"

"Monster!"

A third egg followed, narrowly missing his leg. He felt the fourth slap against his shoulder and splash across his back.

He was not fool enough to wait for the fifth.

But even the crack of apparition was not enough to drown out the screams of the crowd.

-----------------------------------

"What in Merlin's name happened to you?"

He had expected Sirius. He had been braced for Sirius, braced for the look of rage that would flash over his old friend's face, ready for the furious tirade against the ignorant masses, ready to have to restrain him against going out and wreaking vengeance against every one of the anti-werewolf protestors who had been gathered in Diagon Alley that morning.

He was not prepared to face Tonks.

But there she was, rising from the kitchen table with a mug of tea gripped in one hand and the Daily Prophet in the other, staring at his egg splattered hair and robes with a mixture of confusion and horror.

He liked Tonks. He really did. But he never quite knew what to make of her. He very much enjoyed talking to her, was more than pleased to work with her and valued the light and colour she brought into the dreary world of Grimmauld Place. With her ever-changing hair and clumsy tumbles, her silly jokes and flowing chatter, it was easy, too easy to write her off as a cheerful, daft young girl not too dissimilar to Ginny or Hermione. But Remus also knew her as the professional, capable, innovative Auror she had proved herself to be on their missions, a quick-thinking, reliable companion in dangerous times. She knew when to be serious and when to be merry and that was a valuable skill. He valued her company and respected her opinion and she in return seemed to value and respect him. She was a good friend.

Yes. He really did like Nymphadora Tonks.

But what was he supposed to say when he stood before her like this? What was she supposed to think?

"Where's Sirius?" The words escaped before he could quite help himself, his mind still slightly in shock.

An odd flash, almost akin to hurt seemed to flash for a moment in her eyes, but it was gone so hurriedly that Remus was certain that it must have been in his imagination. "Feeding Buckbeak," she replied quietly as she placed both tea and paper on the counter. "Do you want me to get him?"

"Merlin, no." With a weary sigh, Remus deposited himself with an unpleasant squelch into a convenient chair. "He'll just fly off the handle and that's something I can live without right now. I just want to get cleaned up and forget all about it."

"I can see that." He felt her hand, small and warm, rest against his wrist as she slipped with uncharacteristic grace into the chair beside him. "Remus, what happened to you? Is that egg?"

Slowly, wearily, Remus explained. Explained how he had gone to Diagon Alley to buy a book for Dumbledore, explained how he had spotted and carefully skirted the anti-werewolf protestors gathered outside Flourish and Blotts to demand that the werewolf autobiography Hairy Snout, Human Heart be removed from its shelves at once, explained how one of them had recognised him as the infamous werewolf teacher and made sure that everyone else in the vicinity had done too. Explained how they'd conjured eggs, how several of the crowd had cheered them on…

He was barely halfway through his tale before Tonks rose, leaving him with an odd kind of wrench as the warm, reassuring touch of her hand departing from his skin. He heard the sound of gently running water as he continued his tale, the sound of her footsteps returning and then the looming sense of her presence as she halted just behind his chair. Dampness spread across his scalp as a warm, wet cloth gently began to tease the sticky mass of egg out of his hair. Without a word, her fingers steadied his head just below the ear. Her touch was pleasantly, calmingly soft.

Bless her heart. She always knows the right thing to do.

"And then I apparated here," he concluded softly. "And braced myself to hold Sirius back from a mad rampage in Diagon Alley. I was more than relieved to find you here instead."

He sensed rather than saw her whisper of a smile, but there was sudden tension in her gently teasing fingertips.

"I wouldn't blame him," she remarked stiffly, her voice tight. "I'd help him. Bastards."

Remus shrugged slightly. "That's their opinion."

"It's a stupid opinion."

Remus bit back a smile, remembering the slight, almost instinctive step backwards this same young woman had taken on being first introduced to the Order's werewolf in residence. It had taken a great deal of courage on her part not to retreat, but she'd stayed, they'd talked and by the end of the evening, his furry little problem had been dropped by the wayside altogether.

She hadn't liked the idea of meeting a werewolf. But that hadn't stopped her giving him a chance.

And that was what made her special.

She really was such a good friend.

"It's the opinion of a lot of people," he stated softly.

He felt her fingers tighten further against his scalp, her touch acquiring an involuntary element of violence. "Then a lot of people are stupid."

Remus was flattered that she was indignant on his behalf, but he was too much of a pragmatist to join her. He smiled sadly. "I won't dispute that. But it's also the way of the world."

"The way of the world…" With an abrupt slap of cold, the cloth got to work on his neck. "Remus…"

There was anger in her tone that Remus stepped in swiftly to counter. "Tonks, it doesn't matter. Let it go."

"Doesn't… How can you be so calm?" Her voice surged through the previously quiet air with the heat of a forest fire bursting out of all control. "Don't you want to go back there and hex each and every one of the prejudiced, malicious gits into oblivion?"

Remus sighed slightly. One Black temper exchanged for another… "Tonks, I'm used to it."

He could feel her fingers raking through the hair at the back of his neck with short, jerky motions. "That's not an answer, Remus, and you bloody well know it."

Remus half lifted his head, intent on finding her gaze and bringing this exchange to a more rapid conclusion but a sharp rap to the scalp put pay to the motion.

"I'm not done," she informed him briskly. "Speaking or cleaning you up." She huffed irritably, her breath ruffling through his hair. "Remus, you're so bloody self-effacing sometimes! Can't you see? You shouldn't have to be used to it. Those bastards need to be taught a lesson."

Taught a lesson. Remus sighed deeply. How many times had he heard those words over the years? How many times had they plagued him?

That Snivellus thinks he's so much better than us, poking his greasy great nose into our business. Mate, don't you see? I was only trying to scare him! I was trying to teach him a lesson!

Remus, no one has the right to say you can't have a job – don't worry mate, we'll teach them a lesson…

Why shouldn't I discuss werewolves with your Third Years, Lupin? I am a teacher. It is my job to teach people a lesson…

A lifetime of resentment. That was what teaching a lesson had brought him. Because if there was one thing every teacher knew, it was that a lesson could not be taught if a student was unwilling to learn.

The one lesson he had learned to teach was that lessons could rarely be taught. Even by a professor.

"That's the point, Tonks." His tone was rueful and weary as he stared absently down at the pitted table top in front of him. He knew in many ways that she was right to be angry, but the anger had been leeched from him by too many years of disdain. Sirius had never learned not be angry with those who had wronged him and now the rage ate him away inside day by day, burning, consuming, driving him into despair and depression that constantly needed to be fought away. He didn't want – he couldn't bear – to see this bright young woman going down the same futile path.

"Teaching them a lesson in the sense that you mean would teach them nothing," he told her softly. "They wouldn't learn to respect the rights of werewolves by being hexed into oblivion any more than you have learned that purebloods are superior while being attacked by Death Eaters. Because no one wants to be told that their ideas are wrong at the point of a wand." He sighed. "It's a lesson they have to learn for themselves."

The slow wipe of the damp cloth had stilled as he spoke, leaving a trickle of uncomfortable wetness to slip down his neck and under the collar of his robe. Her voice, when it came, was soft and slightly bewildered. "But you know they'll never learn it."

"I know." Remus allowed himself a brief, tired smile. "But I also know that I can argue my point until I'm blue in the face and make no difference either. Arguments or even violence would only reinforce their views of werewolves as vicious, bad-tempered beasts. No." He gently shook his head. "I prefer to leave with as much of my dignity as possible. I prefer to prove that I am as human as they are inside. I prefer to show others if not them that I…" he breathed deeply, "…am man enough to walk away."

For a moment there was silence. But then briefly, tantalisingly, he felt her lips touch softly against his crown.

"More than man enough," she whispered gently.

All of a sudden, for one inexplicable, irrational moment, Remus found it oddly difficult to breath.

What in the world? Lupin, get a hold of yourself!

But then suddenly she was in front of him, plonking herself down on the edge of the table, her damp and eggy cloth grasped in one hand.

"It must have been one hell of an impact," she declared, her voice all at once restored to its more commonplace tone. "This stuff's splattered right along your neck. Hold still."

Breathing became abruptly easier. "I know. If I didn't know any better, I'd think they weren't that fond of me."

At last, she smiled, although he did earn a thump on the shoulder for his quip. "Prat," she informed him. "And I suppose I can see your point about the lesson teaching. But still…" There was something disconcertingly Marauder-like about her grin. "Wouldn't you enjoy seeing that charming pack of protestors with egg all over their faces?"

"Figurative or literal?"

She laughed. "Both would be good. I'd settle for literal for now."

Remus had to admit it was an appealing image. "I can't say I'd have any violent objections to that."

Tonks' dark eyes filled suddenly with decidedly insincere innocence. "And you know, it wouldn't have to be just to prove a point. Just because it wouldn't change their minds…"

Her face hovered mere inches from his. Her eyes seemed to gleam…

The door to the kitchen slammed open. Even as Remus jumped violently, he saw Tonks go tumbling to the ground with a flail of limbs, eggy cloth flying, soaring and then landing with an audible squelch across the dark hair of one Sirius Black.

Remus' old friend paused, removing the cloth with a thoughtful finger as his eyes fixed upon his rather bruised looking cousin and her rather shaken companion. He stared, eyes drinking in the stains across his friend's tattered robes and the damp tangle of his hair.

"Mate, what in Merlin's name happened to you? And is this egg?"

-----------------------

EGG RAMPAGE IN DIAGON ALLEY!

A group of protestors were left sunny side down yesterday, writes Cecily Scrivener, after an unknown assailant pelted them with three-dozen large-yolked eggs.

The activists, all member of Parents Entreating Restriction of Inhuman Lycanthropes (P.E.R.I.L) were protesting the sale of controversial and, some claim, deceptive werewolf autobiography Hairy Snout, Human Heart in Flourish and Blotts book shop. But they failed to see the yoke when an unidentified witch, described by witnessed as tall, grey-haired and tweedy, interrupted their chant with a cry of "Here's egg on your face!" before proceeding to release the three dozen eggs over their heads.

"It's an atrocity," spluttered Godwin Clotworthy, founder of the organisation, speaking to me just moments after the incident that had left his robes and moustache covered in sticky yellow goo. "Here we are, selflessly donating our time to campaign on an issue of our children's safety and some mad old bat decides to make a mockery of us! All we want is inaccurate reading material removed from shelves our children buy from. We've done nothing to deserve such treatment!"

But not everyone agreed with this statement. An anonymous passer-by was quick to contradict them.

"They pelted some poor bloke with eggs themselves a few days ago," said the young woman, adjusting her Weird Sisters t-shirt. "All he said was maybe people should be given the chance to make their own minds up about werewolves and they turned on him like a pack of animals! If you ask me, they deserved every egg!"

Mr Clotworthy declined to comment on these allegations, but off-duty Ministry Auror, Nymphadora Tonks, who arrived on the scene not long after, said all claims of public order breeches would be taken seriously by her colleagues in the MLE.

"Magical Law Enforcement will certainly want to look into both of these incidents," she told me frankly. "Rest assured, the Ministry will pursue the truth behind this matter with all due diligence…"

Remus Lupin smiled.

For once, that morning's Daily Prophet had actually proved illuminating. He'd wondered why it was that Tonks and Sirius had been grinning at each other like that cats that got the cream at the previous evening's Order meeting…

His mind slipped back to sixth year, to a complex charm that Sirius had developed to release three-dozen simultaneous dung-bombs over the Slytherin table. How long would it have taken him to teach it to a young Auror disguised as a tall, grey-haired, tweedy woman?

Not more than a day or two, he was willing to bet.

He had to be impressed though. It wasn't everyone who managed to get themselves into the same newspaper article as three different people.

So much trouble. She'd risked arrest. Given the attitude of the Ministry at the moment, it was possible that she'd even been risking her career.

And she'd done it all for him.

Oh yes, Nymphadora. You are a very special young lady. And a very good friend.

Perhaps it's time I started taking a few risks again myself...

In his mind's eyes, her dark eyes sparkled. He smiled.

Just a friend?

He wasn't so sure anymore.

And Remus Lupin couldn't help but feel in that moment that he'd just been taught a very important lesson.