Part Two


The rhythm of getting ready for bed was all off. It wasn't because Remus and Tonks were spending the night at the Burrow instead of their flat; they had brushed their teeth together and taken turns washing their faces, as was their routine.

What was different was that all of it had been done without Tonks' usual chatter.

It started out as a companionable silence, and Remus had been content simply to watch her go about her nightly rituals. In fact, he'd revelled in her look of peaceful contemplation, recalling how it had been before their reconciliation, with their syncopated thoughts and emotions clamouring beneath the surface, making the very air between them frenetic. How good it was to have moved past that…

Yet where Remus used to love puzzling out the mysteries in her dark eyes, which were deeper and even more alluring in the shifting light of the candle on the bedside table, happily biding his time until she chose to reveal them, he now found himself buttoning his pyjama shirt with agitated fingers as she curled on her side in the bed, a faint crease forming between her eyebrows as she sank into deeper thought. There was no indication on her face that she would voice her musings any time soon.

Abandoning the last few buttons, Remus crossed the room in a few strides. He sat on the edge of the bed facing her, curling one leg underneath and leaving the other dangling over the side. "What's got you looking so pensive?"

Tonks rolled onto her back and smiled up at him. His heart thudded to a slow pace; he hadn't realised till now that it had sped up with nervous anticipation. Returning her smile, he brushed the pink fringe back from Tonks' forehead, and traced her high cheekbone with his thumb.

"Molly," Tonks replied. "I was thinking about what an amazing witch she is."

Remus arched an eyebrow. "Because she can plan a wedding reception, coming of age party, cook a roast dinner, and knit next Christmas' jumpers all at once?"

"So could my mum," Tonks said, rolling her eyes, but not quite managing to sound unimpressed. Turning onto her side again, she reached for him; Remus stretched out facing her and rested his hand on the hipbone revealed as her top rode up, fingers stroking light patterns on her skin.

"Molly looks after so many people like they're her family," Tonks said. "I've never felt that close to my mum. I don't know how I'd have got through last year without Molly's tea and sympathy."

There was no resentment in her voice -- there never was -- but a little shock of guilt cut through Remus' chest. He shifted closer to her, sliding his hand around to rest in the small of her back as he tangled his legs with hers. It was not the time for apologies, but he hoped his affection communicated his regret as well as the assurance that he would do all that lay within his power to prevent putting her through another such year.

"She certainly can lay on a guilt trip as thick as my mum could," he said.

Tonks' laughter was a warm breath against his neck. "I hope I can be like that -- well, not the guilt trip bit -- when I…"

Her words trailed away, and for a moment Remus thought she was merely growing sleepy. When a minute or so passed, and he felt her posture stiffen slightly and her pulse quicken, he realised she was again hesitating to speak of a permanent future.

Difficult as it was for Remus to do so, he'd promised her in the days following Dumbledore's death that he would have faith in their future, and reassure her of his constancy, so he plunged in for her. "When we have a family, I have no doubt you will be the best of wives and mothers."

Her lips brushed his chin as she raised her face. When she leant back in his arms to look into his eyes, the shine of hers was so brilliant that Remus reached for his trouser pocket, the words Will you marry me? on the tip of his tongue --

-- only to remember that he was wearing pyjama bottoms, and the object he sought was hidden away in the bureau.

The moment of hesitation over whether to get up, or to Summon the ring, was enough time for him to talk himself out of the impulsive proposal. He'd already planned it. It wasn't exactly the Marauderesque proposal he'd promised her, but it would catch her off-guard -- he hoped it would, anyway – but it would be romantic. What could be more so, or more symbolic, than proposing at a wedding?

He kissed her lips gently, lingeringly, and she made a sound of contentment before snuggling against his chest again, wrapping her arms around his waist. Her slight fingers worked their way under his shirt, and traced warm paths up and down his spine.

Stroking her hair -- back to her usual length, though neither spiky nor curled -- Remus said, "Your heart has as great a capacity for others as Molly's does."

Tonks' hands stopped moving over his back, and her arms slackened around him.

"What is it?" Remus asked.

He knew the instant she disentangled her legs from his and moved to sit up that he'd prodded a particularly sensitive issue. Tonks drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them tightly. Propping himself on one elbow, Remus lay his other hand on her knee.

"You can tell me," he said -- then it occurred to him that she might not be ready to discuss it. He'd interrupted her thoughts. "Or if you don't want to…"

"Sometimes I feel like everything I've got's poured into you and my work," Tonks said, eyes on his hand on her knee. Abruptly, they flicked sidelong to meet his. "And sometimes I'm not sure I'm even able to give you as much as you need."

The engagement ring in his trouser pocket in the bureau felt as inaccessible to Remus as Tonks had during his year underground.

It was just as well.

Of course he couldn't expect her to be ready for marriage. Rebuilding that level of trust would take a long time.

He would start now.

Sitting fully upright, Remus held her face between his hands and drew her to look at him. "You have always been everything I need," he said. "I'm no expert, but it seems the capacity for love increases as you gain people to love. And…" He swallowed, and glanced over her shoulder at the ancient headboard as he went on. "…your work will be different, once the war is over."

Tonks nodded. Smile returning, she sat up straighter. "I'm glad you think I'm deep enough."

Remus leant in for a kiss, allowing his fingers to slide into her pink hair. "How could I not?"

"I did morph a pig snout whilst wearing an heirloom tiara."

"Believe me, it requires a great deal of depth to do that in public."

Tonks laughed, but Remus' chuckle died as his thoughts drifted back to the conversation preceding Tonks' hilarity.

"If either of us should worry about our capacity to care for others," he said, lowering his hands into his lap, glancing down as he picked at the worn knees of his pyjamas, "it's me."

Face very pale, chin and cheek muscles taut, Tonks slid back against the pillows. "Don't start--"

"I don't mean that," Remus interjected.

Relief relaxed Tonks' features, but her gaze remained hard, discerning. Breaking their eye contact, Remus ran a hand through his fringe, over his scruffy cheek. "I mean…Well -- Harry."

Tonks' brows knit. "What about Harry?"

Remus lay down again, and Tonks slid down beside him, drawing the quilts up over them. Facing each other again, but not touching, Remus said, "Molly seems to think I ought to be stepping into Sirius' role."

"What do you think?"

Remus fingered the stitching at the edge of his pillowcase. The thread was mismatched in a few sections, where the original hem had come undone and Molly had mended it.

"I've never thought Harry expected me to fill that place. I was only his teacher."

"And one of his father's best mates."

"But not his father," said Remus evenly, rolling onto his back. "Or even his godfather."

Even though the only light in the room was from the flickering candle on the bedside table, his eyes immediately went to the corner of the ceiling he'd noticed last Christmas, where the plaster was chipped.

"Harry's a man now," Remus went on. "He's so important…None of us can determine his path, or protect him."

Out the corner of his eye, he saw the sheets slip off Tonks' bare shoulder as she pushed up on one elbow. Remus turned his head, noted her eyes wide with something akin to shock, and returned his gaze to the ceiling flaw.

"I suppose that sounds strange coming from me," he said.

Tonks lay a hand on his chest, and as she reclined again, rested her head on his shoulder and hooked a leg across his thighs. "It was strange when the opposite came from you."

Her touch, the closeness of her body, and her words brought clarity. "The only thing I've felt comfortable with in regard to Harry," said Remus, "has been to make myself available to him."

"But you've second guessed yourself?"

"This is me we're talking about."

Absently stroking her wrist, Remus pondered why he had. Was there any solid evidence that he'd not succeeded? He thought of Harry asking him and Sirius about the memory from Snape's Pensieve; he thought of the past Christmas, when Harry had asked about him , personally.

"Harry's seemed comfortable enough with me to ask questions," Remus said. "I suppose I've done right by him."

Tonks leant over him and kissed his chest where he'd left his shirt unbuttoned. Peering up at him through tousled pink hair, she said, "Don't look back, Remus."

Remus touched her face, and wondered if he would ever cease being fascinated by the softness of her skin, or the way his palm covered her cheek. It seemed impossible. "I only want to look at you."

Eyes sparkling again, Tonks turned her head to kiss his palm, then abruptly flopped onto her back.

"Talking of questions…" She pulled the blankets up to her chin. "…Ginny asked me a few. Did you know she and Harry got together last spring?"

"Did they?"

"Mmm, for a little while. He broke it off because of…whatever Dumbledore's asked him to do."

How could she say it like that, without a hint of pointedness, as though there were no parallel to her own love life? That she did not accuse compelled Remus to resist the natural impulse -- no, the habit -- of apologising for making her the authority on that situation. It required a great deal of effort, and the strain was evident in his voice as he asked, "What did you tell her?"

Tonks turned her head and looked at him steadily. "That I'd have a talk with you about having a talk to set Harry straight."

Remus' heart hung, suspended, in his chest --

-- until Tonks let out a startling puff of laughter and clapped a hand over her mouth. Just as quickly, she pulled it away again to grab his hand. "Oh, Remus, your face! I'm taking the piss!"

"Considering what Molly put me through before dinner," he said, as unsuccessful at sounding admonishing as she was at sounding apologetic, "that's really not funny."

"But it is. And don't worry, I know you'll get me back." Her eyes were impish black slits as she laughed, and her lithe elfin frame enticed as her skimpy top rode up, baring a substantial amount of creamy skin.

Just as Remus reached for her, the trembling of her taut abdominal muscles quelled, and Tonks was looking at him with grave eyes. "I told Ginny it wasn't really the same situation as you and me. But…What has Harry to do?"

Remus noticed that the candle on the nightstand was burning low, the glow not even extending to the edges of the bed.

"Harry will do whatever Dumbledore asked him to do."

After long moments of staring silently up into the darkness, Tonks said in a low tone, "They're older than I was at seventeen."

"You'd already made up your mind to be an Auror when you were seventeen."

"And you joined the Order soon after you finished school."

"James and Lily weren't much older when they died." A shiver coursed along Remus' spine, and he rolled onto his side, closer to Tonks. She did the same, allowing him to spoon her, and her back was so warm and firm against him. "I think we're the old ones."

"That's how you're getting over this too old thing, is it? Lumping me in with you?"

Remus leant over her shoulder to kiss the soft spot between her jaw and ear. The hairs on her neck stood as she snuggled into him. "I decided that since you can look older than me…"

"You realise you've practically dared me to morph in bed?" Tonks said, and cast a sly look over her shoulder.

Instantly Remus shifted on top of her, rolling her onto her back. "I dare you to try and concentrate enough to make one hair grey, you saucy little minx."

He chuckled against her mouth as unfamiliar coarse hair brushed his forehead, and the smooth skin of her neck became pruny. He deepened the kiss, and with a sigh Tonks' body returned to her natural state.

Remus broke away to whisper in her ear, "I win."


A/N: Thanks for your response to the first chapter. I'm delighted to know so many people are excited to see more in the Transfigured Hearts universe. Hope you like how the story's unfolding. This time, those who comment will get their choice of Remus to have a bedtime chat with: sensitive Remus, who wants to know what you've got to say; broody Remus, who wants your advice and comfort about his insecurities; or flirty Remus who makes bedtime dares...