'Tonks' Chapter 2-
Remus descended the stairs, tired and more than a bit haggard. Ginny looked on sympathetically, knowing he had just suffered through yet another full moon.
"Evening, Remus." She forced a smile at him.
"Hello, Ginny," he responded, putting the forcedness of her smile to shame. "You're up late, aren't you?"
"You're the one who slept all day," she raised her eyebrows at him in concern.
"Yes, but I transformed into a vicious mystical creature last night. Your excuse, whatever it may be, is nothing like mine." Now he actually smiled.
"I was just doing some light reading before bed," she said, gesturing to a gargantuan textbook on her right, next to her emptied hot chocolate cup.
"Light?" He exclaimed, "You've been spending much too much time with Hermione this holiday, Ginny!"
She laughed, happy that she had probably been the first to make him smile all day. The thought made her ridiculously warm, and sort of nervous.
"Which reminds me, do you lot need anything else before school starts back again? I'm heading for Diagon Alley day after tomorrow anyway, so I though I might escort you all."
Ginny groaned inwardly, but tried to respond politely. "No, not I, but Hermione probably wants loads more books and Ron needs something for Scabbers. Ask them tomorrow."
"Ok," he said absent-mindedly, reaching for more hot chocolate off the shelf, and setting to make it.
Just when they have been conversing alone, for probably the second time all holiday, he had to remind her. They had been having a perfectly good discussion about… sleep, or something. What does it matter? He'll always see my as 'you lot', too young, and he's old. Forget it. But it was hard to forget it, especially when they were alone. He looked so….like….. Remus-y, and only Tonks seemed to know what she meant by that. Days earlier, when she had finally confided in Tonks about how her insides felt around him and how much she remembered Remus after he'd left a room, it had felt alright. It had felt more than alright, to finally tell someone what she thought. Hermione would've informed her that it was normal for her age, and completely insignificant. But Ginny didn't want it to be insignificant. Tonks had understood her, a little too well, but still it didn't help.
She watched him fixing his drink and began to travel down the same path of though, which always started with his hair and ended somewhere beneath his belt that she didn't feel right exploring in her mind. Tonks seemed to relate to her on the subject, too.
But it felt like some breech in his trust of her to think these things. He talked to her, usually when other people were around but still, he communicated with her, even a few momentary conversations about his life. She loved hearing about his life. The way he told stories, underplaying his role in them yet always coming off as the savior or the most brilliant Marauder, or the sensible, cute one. She tried to emulate him, doing what she guessed he would do in situations, but it wasn't the same. She just wanted to sit with him on some comfy couch in Gryffindor commons room next to a magically set fire, and hear his stories. Not that he ever revealed much about himself, but that was another intoxicating aspect about Remus.
The only man willing to sit next to her on a couch in the commons room was Neville Longbottom and he wasn't even a man, he was by definition a boy. And a nice but annoying one at that.
Realizing that was the only voluntary male company she'd have in a week's time, she turned her attention back to Remus and let her mind wander.