A/N: This one-shot was written for Remus Lupin Fest 2023. Summary and Rating: G. The obvious solution is at the tip of Remus's tongue; the idea of seeing Tonks on a daily basis is all he can think of, but it's a ridiculous idea, really. She's barely twenty-three. Why would she want two middle-aged men as her roommates?

(Or, the story of how Remus and Tonks convinced each other it was a good idea for her to move into Grimmauld Place.)

Set during Order of the Phoenix, canon-compliant fluff.

...

"You're up early." Sirius staggers down the stairs, his eyes red and bloodshot.

Remus leans over the stove, fixing breakfast. He shrugs and brushes Sirius's comment off; there's bread in the oven and bacon on the stove to attend to. Tonks will be at headquarters any minute from her overnight mission and he promised he'd have something ready for her upon her return.

Sirius coughs loudly behind Remus. "Why do you have this?" he asks, pointing at a shiny, colorful box of tea next to the stove.

"Tonks likes it."

A conspiratorial gleam crosses Sirius's eyes. "Uh huh."

"She brought it here," Remus replies tersely. Sirius lifts a brow but Remus busies himself with cracking eggs messily into a bowl. Lately, where Tonks is concerned, Sirius has made entirely ridiculous statements. It's all to get a rise out of Remus; what else would Sirius do to keep himself busy?

Remus knows better than to encourage his friend's delusions, so he declines to say that he encouraged her to bring it to headquarters. Despite his instinct that he'd deeply dislike it, Remus was eager to try her favorite tea and thus he invited her to bring it over. He hated it and had to place a charm on his taste buds and nostrils to consume the fruity, flowery concoction. Nevertheless, he asked her to keep it at headquarters, just in case. He doesn't want her to be without her favorite tea, appalling as it may be.

The timer goes off and Remus opens the oven door, inhaling the divine scent of freshly baked bread. He places the loaf on the counter, pleased with its perfectly golden brown top.

"I noticed the bedroom at the end of the hall is made up."

Remus feels a jolt in his stomach. He overturns the sizzling bacon in the pan and replies, "I told Tonks she could sleep here when it's convenient for her."

Sirius hums, tapping his fingers on the table behind him. "Doesn't she have a flat to go to?"

"She does," Remus tells him, whisking the eggs sloppily, displeased he spilled some of the contents on the floor, "but she mentioned that it would be nice to sleep here when she's got back to back shifts. She said she's fine with the sofas, but I thought she might like a bedroom." He starts scrambling the eggs and vanishes the mess left behind.

"Is that so?" Sirius asks, putting his chin in his hand, motioning to stroke a beard that is no longer there.

Remus is spared from dignifying the question with an answer. A white, winged mass comes flying through the kitchen, screeching madly. Remus instinctively covers the food, not wanting breakfast to be spoiled, while Sirius has his wand at the ready.

It's only Hedwig, half-shrieking at the men in the kitchen. She doesn't have a letter attached to her leg or in her beak.

"What the–" Sirius asks, but a dark look comes over his face. " That bloody elf!"

Sirius storms up and Hedwig follows, but not before stealing a whole strip of bacon. Remus rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He's sure Kreacher stole the letter from Hedwig, intending to hide it from Sirius, but the owl knows the elf oughtn't to be trusted.

"Clever girl," Remus says to himself, as he puts the finishing touches on breakfast. The loaf of bread is ready to be sliced, fresh butter is set on the table, and the eggs and bacon are under a Stasis Charm, as is Tonks's atrocious cup of tea. She hasn't returned from the overnight mission with Kingsley yet. He tries not to worry and lets his mind drift back to the first war.

He wonders if this is how James and Lily felt when they had him or Sirius over after their missions. Lily would complain that she couldn't do much while they were in hiding, but she could take care of her friends. Remus has considered returning to the werewolf camps now that another war is brewing - he's a ready-made spy, after all - but he remembers how miserable those days were. He prefers being at headquarters, going on missions, writing reports, and taking care of fellow Order members. He may not have much, he thinks, but his work is meaningful and he has friends again.

The Floo roars with life and he feels the grin on his face, glad to see one of his newest friends. Tonks comes in, tripping over her feet as usual, and he's at her side at once.

"You sit," Remus tells her, guiding her to one of the wooden chairs. "You've been up all night."

"I'm all right." Tonks yawns, her hair paling, but it brightens again when Remus places a full plate of food in front of her. "Wow. When you said you'd have something ready, I wasn't expecting all this!"

Remus feels a warm sensation rising in his chest. He sits down across from her, nursing his own cup of tea. She lets out a satisfied "mmm" upon biting into the bread and Remus can't help the giddy grin that plays at his lips.

"How was it last night?"

"Boring. Yaxley had his mistress over and unless she's secretly a Death Eater," Tonks answers, shuddering, "nothing interesting happened." She stretches her arms and trembles. "I might've fractured a rib when I tripped over a fence."

"Do you need help—"

Tonks shakes her head and waves her hand as she takes another bite. Remus deflates slightly, knowing she's unlikely to stay long if she'll heal herself at home. With Kreacher having kept a letter from Harry away from Sirius, the house's only other human occupant will be in a foul mood for the foreseeable future.

"In case you're interested," he ventures, keeping his tone neutral, "I made up a bed for you upstairs. You can heal and rest up there before your next shift."

Her dark eyes twinkle at him and he feels the fluttering of something unknown in his midsection. Slowly, she breaks into a smile.

"After you've gone through all that effort, how could I say no?"

Remus's heart threatens to jump out of his chest. He rises from his chair, needing to keep his hands busy, and he fixes her another cup of tea. "It's the room at the end of the hall—"

"You're sure I'm not imposing?"

"This is what headquarters is for," Remus assures her, offering another plate of food. She accepts it gratefully and the funny sensation in his chest returns. Thinking of how remarkable it is to have friends again, he adds, "And it's what friends are for."

"Friends," she murmurs, taking a bite of bacon. "Friends."

Remus isn't sure what to make of her quiet comment. While she enjoys another helping of breakfast, he starts cleaning up after himself. Only the sounds of Sirius pacing noisily upstairs interrupt the clamor of pots and pans washing themselves in the sink. Tonks is unusually silent now, and Remus worries that he's said something wrong. He's afraid to face her again, running over the words he said, anxiety building over the possible misstep.

"That was delicious." Tonks is at his side, her empty plate in her hands, and Remus takes it. Their fingers brush and his breath hitches, feeling that funny, almost electric sensation running up his arm. She blushes, murmuring a thank you for doing the dishes, and suggests he show her to her room when the dishes are done.

"Is this what it was like, before?"

Remus turns off the tap and turns his head. "In the first war?" She nods and he hesitates, unsure of what to tell her. Her cheeks are flushed and her lips slightly parted. She leans against the edge of the counter, her back facing the wall, waiting for him to reply.

"In some ways, it was different." Remus begins drying some dishes and putting them away. "We don't have as many younger Order members. In those days, most everyone was single or newly married. People with families…it became too dangerous for them to join us. We helped each other out when we could, those of us without families. Lily was always willing to lend a hand." He smiles wistfully, his mind drifting back to the first war. There were few people who were willing to patch up his wounds after a full moon or duel, and Lily was among them.

"You didn't have anyone else?" Tonks turns and faces him directly. "To help?"

"No." Remus places the freshly washed, dried dishes into the cupboard. "I lived among werewolves. Lily and James were the ones I saw most often when I needed help. Sirius was too busy being a rebel."

"Oh, er, I meant…" Tonks bites her bottom lip, looking up at him with wide, curious eyes. "You didn't have anyone to help you when you were with the werewolves?"

"We're not known to be a friendly lot." Remus fails at keeping the bitterness out of his voice. He doesn't usually mind discussing it with friends, but with Tonks, he feels acutely uncomfortable whenever she's reminded of what he is.

"I miss them, the Potters," he tells her, guiding the conversation away from his past. "They were like family to me." Tonks parts her lips and takes a breath, as if to say something, but Remus is done with the dishes and he's ready to bring her up to the room he's prepared for her. He offers her a small smile and says, "Why don't we go up? I'll get you a potion for the rib."

Tonks smiles at him in return and his stomach does a somersault. He's beginning to think he's got an upset stomach - he doesn't put it past Kreacher to try to poison him - but he brushes the discomfort aside and leads Tonks up to her room.

"Do the others stay here when they need it?" Tonks asks quietly, as they pass by Walburga's covered portrait.

"Only for meals," Remus whispers. "The Weasleys are back home. Molly never did much like it here."

They arrive at the room at the end of the hall. Tonks sits on the bed, wincing, and Remus casts a diagnostic charm on her.

"I've just remembered, you didn't want help–"

"I didn't want to impose . Now that I've got a bed here when I want it, I've no problem taking advantage of your kindness." She grins at him, sticking her arm out, which has a nasty cut on it. "Help?"

He huffs, feigning annoyance, but pulls up a chair and casts a charm to seal the wound. He casts another charm on her fractured rib and she wiggles, smiling at him.

"So much better," she proclaims. "Are you the Order's Healer?"

Remus lifts a brow at her, his forehead creasing. "Not even Sirius needs this much help."

"Way to make a girl feel pathetic," she says, chuckling weakly. "It's what I get for being so clumsy."

"I didn't mean it like that at all." Remus feels his mouth drying and his pulse racing. "I meant that most everyone else has a partner or spouse to help them."

"Or they're Kingsley and don't get easily hurt." Remus nods politely, concerned he'll say another thing he'll regret. Tonks leans back, putting her palms on the bed and says, "What about Hestia? Who's she with?"

"Emmeline," Remus replies promptly, glad to change the subject. "They've been together for a while."

"So it's just me who's alone," Tonks mumbles, "and Kingsley, the perpetual bachelor."

Remus parts his lips, confused by her meaning. Surely she doesn't think he and Sirius are–

Her eyes fly open and her neck flushes. "You and Sirius are just roommates, yeah?"

Remus isn't sure how he could feel any more awkward. He replies, "Yes, we're just roommates…we're both, er, as you put it…perpetual bachelors…friends… unattached roommates."

Tonks sighs slowly. "Maybe I should get one of those."

"A…bachelor?" Remus's shoulders tense and he feels his jaw clenching against his will.

She laughs, clutching her side. "No, you muppet. A roommate. I should get a roommate."

Remus feels his neck and shoulders relax and he uncrosses his legs, stretching them out in front of him. "A roommate might not be a bad idea, unless you prefer living alone. I thought that's what I preferred until it was my only option." The words spill out unthinkingly and he recoils, drawing his legs back up to sit straight in his chair.

"Maybe I could get two roommates?" Tonks says, batting her eyes at him. She sits up, too, with a gleam in her dark eyes.

Remus is unsure of her sudden enthusiasm. "I don't see why not?"

"There are some blokes at work I could ask."

He frowns. He isn't sure why he dislikes the idea of her living with her coworkers and wonders if she has any friends from school she could live with instead; they might not ask as many questions as fellow Aurors. "Do they know about the Order?" he asks.

"No, but I reckon that would be helpful, if my roommates knew about the Order…or were already in it."

The obvious solution is at the tip of Remus's tongue; the idea of seeing Tonks on a daily basis is all he can think of, but it's a ridiculous idea, really. She's barely twenty-three. Why would she want two middle-aged men as her roommates?

"Do you think Sirius would mind if I moved into this old house?"

Remus's stomach is doing somersaults again. He wonders if now is a good time to ask Tonks if she's feeling well, as she might suffer from food poisoning as well. He scowls, thinking of that blasted house elf, ruining the breakfast he'd so carefully prepared.

Tonks's smile fades, watching him. She says, in a small voice, "You think it's a bad idea, don't you?"

Remus is jolted out of his musings on the food and asks her to repeat her question. When she does, he quickly replies, "I don't think he'd mind at all! You're his cousin. Of course you'd be welcome."

"Would you mind getting another roommate?"

"Not in the least," he answers at once, thinking of having Tonks join him and Sirius for their evening drinks in the library. She joins them on occasion, often staying late into the night. The image of the three of them in the library, friends and family together, nearly leads him to find Sirius immediately to tell him the good news.

Tonks's smile has returned, as have the flutters in Remus's chest.

"I'm quite messy."

He considers the possibilities for a moment. He's seen her flat once before, a vibrant mess of clothes, shoes, and other feminine mysteries. He knows Grimmauld Place would be far cheerier with her colors and joie de vivre.

"Have you seen the state of this house?" he counters, wiggling a brow at her.

"I'm also loud."

"So is the portrait…and we have Silencing Charms."

Remus suddenly realizes he's trying to convince her to move in. A twinge of pain runs down his spine and he remembers - he can't believe he let himself forget - he's a bloody werewolf.

"On second thought," he tells her, regretting having ever been born, "it's not the best idea. I, er, have that furry little problem." He winces and looks away, ashamed.

"I don't mind," she says gently.

Remus snaps his gaze back to hers. "I do."

"Then it would be your turn to be messy and loud." She's still smiling at him, strands of her bubblegum pink hair framing her bright face. "We'd be even…and I could help you. You wouldn't have to be so alone."

"I have Sirius," he says weakly. "Padfoot keeps me company."

"Who said you can't have more company?" She sees his face and hastily adds, "after the full moon. Besides, didn't you say this is what headquarters is for? Order member use? I'm an Order member."

Remus feels his heart in his throat. He croaks, "I suppose I did."

Tonks's lips are curled in a victorious smirk. "Does that mean I can move in?"

"I don't see why not," Remus says, keeping his voice level, terrified that the experiment will fail. Or, worse yet, she'll see him for what he truly is - a monster. None of this appears to cross her mind, seeing her hair shift from pink to a brilliant gold.

"Well, hello new roomie," she giggles, standing from the bed and offering her hand for him to shake. "I'm Tonks and I sing in the shower."

"I know," Remus replies, trying not to roll his eyes. "I've heard you. Your rendition of 'A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Arse' will be etched into my memory forever." Color blooms in her cheeks. He feels warm, perplexed at how pleased he feels upon seeing the pink fill her face. He thinks he may have embarrassed her - a feat he never thought could be accomplished, and murmurs, "You've got a lovely voice."

Tonks sits up straight, smiling broadly. "So do you." Remus furrows his brow and tilts his head. She says, as if it's obvious, "Your voice is warm and rumbly. You sing when you think no one is listening, but I've heard you before. You like The Smiths, don't you?"

Remus can only gape at her. "I do, but how…?"

"They were popular when I was at Hogwarts," she explains. "I figured Sirius didn't have many listening opportunities in Azkaban. It was you or Kreacher." She snorts to herself. Remus never cared for his singing voice, finding it raspy, but if Tonks thinks it's nice, he's inclined to believe her.

"MOONY! OI, MOONY!"

Remus sighs dramatically and turns around. Sirius is at the doorway with a letter in his hand.

"There you are!" He looks over Remus's shoulder and smirks. "Hey, Tonks. Fancy seeing you here."

"Wait till you hear the news," she says, stepping around Remus. Sirius's eyebrows go up into his forehead and he stares gleefully between them.

"She's decided to move in with us," Remus informs him, before he can get other ideas. "We'll be roommates."

"Roommates?"

"That's what it's called when you live with people who aren't your parents," Tonks explains, swaggering up to Sirius. "What do you think?"

"I think it's bloody brilliant!" Sirius hugs her and Remus feels another strange pang in his body, hoping he won't have to go to St. Mungo's for an unusual illness.

"Drinks! We should have drinks!" Sirius claims. He wraps his arm around Tonks's shoulder and leads her out of the room with Remus on their heels.

They walk and talk together down the hall, with Tonks laughing at Sirius's strongly worded letter to Snape over Harry's Occlumency lessons, and the pang strikes in Remus's stomach.

An unbidden image of Sirius with a very pretty Ravenclaw girl comes to his mind. He stops in his tracks as a cold, plunging sensation runs through his heart.

"Moony?"

"Remus? Are you all right?"

"Food poisoning," he says abruptly, and turns the corner into his room, realizing a moment too late that food poisoning requires a toilet. He groans, closes the door behind him and leans against it. As he slides down to the floor in a crumpled heap, he ruefully admits the truth: he's an utter, hopeless fool.