A few hours later

For the first time in weeks, Nymphadora Tonks wasn't woken by a nightmare. Gone was the usual feeling of panic and intense sadness that normally engulfed her as soon as she opened her eyes; instead she felt relaxed and well rested. The bed she lay in was comfy and a strong pair of arms held her tightly, making her feel safe.

"Remus?" She murmured sleepily.

An annoyed grunt quickly alerted her to her mistake. Memories of her excursion the previous evening came flooding back.

"Sorry Charlie." She was glad she was facing away from him, so he couldn't see her disappointment.

"What happened?" His tone was abrupt.

"Your mum insisted on having me over for dinner. I decided I missed you, so I got a Portkey late last night. A favour from a guy I helped out a couple of weeks ago."

"That wasn't what I meant."

"I know."

She rolled over, looking down at his arm to avoid his eyes. Using her finger, she began to join his freckles, picking out a dragon's wing, a cauldron, The Plough; it was an old habit but it always made her feel calmer. As her finger traced higher, she felt an angry welt under his t-shirt, which, on contact, caused him to wince.

"Dragons?"

"Death eaters."

Oh. Her heart sank. She liked to believe that Charlie was her one friend who was safe. He wasn't supposed to be facing the same dangers that the rest of them were.

"What happened?"

"I already asked you that question. Don't try and turn it around."

She looked up at him then, into his deep blue eyes that stared right back into her soul. She had always loved his eyes, but right now they were full of concern.

"I told you, I missed you."

"Bollocks."

Tonks had always prided herself on being able to conceal things; hell she could even change her appearance to do so (not that that was an option at the moment), but Charlie Weasley had a way of unpeeling her like an onion, uncovering the layers she had carefully built up to protect herself.

Charlie pulled her closer to him again and gently kissed the top of her head.

"I want to make it better. I'll do anything I can to make it better."

"I know. I wish you could. I just don't know Charlie, I don't know how to climb out of this mess."

A sob caught in her throat. She didn't want to cry. She hadn't come here to cry. She went to her parent's house to cry, or to The Burrow, where she would get fuss and tea and cake and someone would tell her it would all be okay. That wasn't what she wanted right now; it was why she had come to Charlie instead, because with Charlie she could just be. She could curl up and sleep or watch the clouds go by or drink something alcoholic and not be expected to be fixed by the time she got to the bottom of it.

Suddenly, Charlie leapt up from the bed.

"Get up."

"Where are we-?"

But he had already pulled her off the bed and chucked her shoes at her.

"Come on."

By the time she had fumbled with her boots he was waiting outside, broomstick in one hand.

Those blue eyes twinkled mischievously.

...

With her arms tightly around Charlie's waist, feeling the wind rush by, she let the exhilaration take over. They looped and swirled and soared, before gently coasting to take in the breathtaking views of the mountains. Just for a moment, life didn't seem as bad.