"You know you don't have to make me breakfast every morning."

Tonks sidled into the kitchen, yawning, with her Auror robes dragging behind her.

"I'm making it for myself," Remus lied. "I may as well make enough for two."

Remus wasn't a morning person or a breakfast-eating person. He skipped it most days to save money, but since he'd moved in with Tonks, he felt it was only right for him to make her life as pleasant as possible, starting with breakfast.

"Suit yourself." Tonks shrugged and sat down at the colorful breakfast table. "I can't complain, though. It's good."

"Porridge with berries today," said Remus, putting the bowl in front of her. "The bacon'll be a minute."

He watched as she took a bite, making a satisfied mmm sound. While she started eating, he got the bacon on a plate and brought her coffee.

"How'd you know I take it with milk?"

"We've been living together for three weeks and you have coffee every morning."

"Huh, it's been three weeks? Already?"

Remus wanted to tell her it had been three of the strangest, fastest weeks in his recent memory. He worked a few hours most days, restocking books for the secondhand shop. He earned a paltry four quid an hour, half of which went directly into the grocery budget. If Tonks wasn't paying for their rent, he'd have almost nothing left.

When he wasn't working, he went on missions for the Order. It was tedious, dull work: some days were spent at Privet Drive, monitoring Harry from a distance. Other days, he'd be at the Department of Mysteries, under an Invisibility Cloak, usually with another Order member to keep him company. Tonks was his most frequent companion (and the most talkative one), but he'd had a shift with everyone but Mundungus. The nights with Tonks tended to pass by the quickest.

In his off-time, or what little he had of it nowadays, he spent at the flat. Usually Tonks was there with him, when she wasn't working or doing Order surveillance. She puttered about the flat, talking to herself, singing to herself, listening to music in her room, or peppering Remus with questions about his life and lycanthropy.

Remus was rarely alone, which he thought he'd mind. It was nice to have a home other than Grimmauld Place. He begrudgingly admitted this to Tonks a week into living together, and the grin on her face was as wide as the Cheshire cat's. It was also oddly comforting to have someone around; though she was messy, loud, and clumsy, Tonks was offbeat and often amusing.

"Are you working today?"

"Noon to six," he replied, checking his watch. "I'm free until then."

"Why'd you wake up so early? It's not even seven."

Remus shrugged and dug into his porridge; she didn't need to know he woke up early to make her breakfast, and planned to go back to sleep until he needed to leave for his shift.

"What do you do when it's just you here?"

"Read, write, sleep, clean. It's not exciting."

"You must enjoy the quiet without me," she said, smirking.

"You're rather entertaining, if you must know," Remus replied, his lips twitching in amusement.

"Prat." She threw a blueberry at him, laughing when it hit him squarely between his eyes.

"Very professional…just what an Auror ought to be."

"Auror Tonks, at your service," she said, holding her hand to her forehead in a salute. "Expert blueberry fighter."

"Is that what you do all day? Fight blueberries?"

"You're incorrigible!"

Remus grinned at her. This was another unexpected benefit of his situation: Tonks was someone he could talk to, and she was seemingly unbothered by his lycanthropy. Her best friend, Sonia, had only just begun to talk to him when she came over, and he'd seen her at least four times since he moved, what with all the last-minute wedding planning Tonks was helping with.

"Okay, I'll be back early today, I hope. I'll see you when you get home."

Remus felt a pang of disappointment that she had to go, but this was the way it had to be. She had an important job and he made far less than he was capable of. He wished her a good day, and when she was out the door, a lonely silence fell over the flat.

….

"Lupin!"

Remus turned around. His coworker, Jane, was in the stockroom.

"Your girlfriend is here."

"My what—oh, yes. Tell her I'll be right out."

Remus glanced at his watch. He had ten minutes before his shift ended. Tonks should be home, not visiting him at work.

He came out of the storeroom to the counter where people brought their books to sell.

Tonks was there, leaning against the till, wearing her usual Muggle garb. She liked ripped, denim trousers that hung low on her hips, tight T shirts that hugged her curves, and heavy black boots she wore everywhere. Her hair was pink as ever, though today it was short and curly.

"Wouldn't have thought she was your type, Lupin," said Jane, with a raised eyebrow.

"You know what they say," Tonks said, taking hold of Remus's wrist. "Opposites attract."

He bent his head toward her and whispered in her ear. "What are you doing here?"

"Thought I'd pop by to say hello…and maybe grab some food after you're done. What do you say?"

Remus didn't want to spend any more money on food, but he felt he couldn't say no, so he nodded and smiled instead.

"I'll be waiting for you—find me by the romance section." With a wink, Tonks sauntered off to her destination.

His coworker had been watching the situation with some interest. "Young girl you got there—what are you, 40? 45?"

"I'm 35."

"And she is—"

"—old enough to be my girlfriend." He turned around to go back to the stockroom, pleased that he'd said the word girlfriend without issue, but bothered that Tonks showed up. If Muggles thought their relationship was odd, wizards certainly would.

At the end of his shift, he put away the last of the books he was shelving and went out to the floor, where Tonks was engrossed in a book with a shirtless man on its cover.

"He's supposed to be a werewolf, but they got the facts wrong," said Tonks, eyeing Remus over the book. "This bloke only gets horny at the full moon and he only gets claws and ears. That's what—diet werewolf? No thanks."

She set the book on the shelf. Remus gaped at her, but as she tugged on his wrist, he had to move.

"Do you like tapas? I saw this tapas bar on my way here and thought it looked good."

"I, er, yes?"

"C'mon! It's a Friday so we should get there before it's too busy."

Tonks took him to a stylish bar with live music and dancing. Remus didn't want to be the reason why her excited babble over the food and entertainment ended. He followed her, barely able to hear over the music, and found himself sitting across from her while she ordered a variety of small plates to share.

Remus couldn't recall the last time he went out to eat like this. He'd never had tapas, and they turned out to be scrumptious. Spicy, flavorful potatoes, garlicky shrimp and meatballs, cheesy, fried croquettes, and bacon-wrapped dates were among his new favorite dishes. Tonks kept ordering new little dishes, each one better than the last, and she splurged on a pitcher of fruity, delicious sangria.

With the drinks flowing and the food filling him up, Remus felt lighter somehow. He didn't feel so burdened, not with a full belly and sweetness on his lips.

When it came time to pay, Remus tried to reach for his billfold, wincing at how expensive it would be, but Tonks stopped him.

"My treat!" she declared, raising her glass. "For all the cooking you do!" Remus counted the several banknotes Tonks gave to their waiter. They'd spent two days' worth of his wages on a single meal.

Remus was suddenly horrified with what he'd allowed: the fullness of his stomach made him sick, and the sugary alcohol was too sweet. He couldn't let this happen again. Before he could tell Tonks how irresponsible they'd been, she pulled him up from his seat and took him to the bar, where the live music was.

"I don't dance!" he half-shouted, over the rhythmic, lively strumming.

"Then get a drink and watch me!" Tonks left him at the bar and disappeared into the crowd.

Remus didn't want to spend any more time or money at the bar. He felt he couldn't just leave Tonks to dance alone—especially not if he was her 'boyfriend.' He ordered the cheapest beer on the menu and sat at the bar, keeping an eye on the pink-haired witch gyrating to the music.

Tonks made friends easily. She danced with women and men, though she seemed to prefer women tonight. Remus supposed it was easier for her to dance with other women, as they could look like friends, but seeing her in her element, surrounded by young, attractive people, left a lonesome feeling in his bones. It would be ridiculous for him to join her. He didn't know how to dance, and he'd look stupid trying the same moves, but it didn't feel right for him to be alone at the bar while she had her fun.

Tonks was dancing with a tall fellow now, who had a hungry, almost predatory look in his eyes. Remus's fists clenched at his sides. He could interrupt them and take the man's place, but they were a better-looking pair. The man was a good dancer, young, wearing a half-buttoned shirt and sported a neatly trimmed beard. Tonks had her hands on his waist while his hands were creeping down to her bum. Compared to him, Remus, with his shabby, drab clothes and decidedly unmuscular build, would look like a fool next to Tonks.

It would certainly explain his frustration as the man groped Tonks without a care in the world, while Remus sat alone, brooding over his wretched life.

Remus reached for his wand and stopped himself before he hexed the man's bollocks off. Tonks was having fun. She deserved to have all the fun in the world, and as they barreled toward a hopeless matrimony, her opportunities for carefree pleasure would disappear.

Tonks wasn't smiling anymore. Remus saw her trying to extricate herself from the man's grip without success. He saw her reach for her wand, too, but she seemed to remember she was in a Muggle bar and had to resort to her own strength.

It was as if someone else took over his body. Remus got up from his chair, marched directly to where Tonks was, and pushed the other man away.

"What the fuck—"

"—excuse us," Remus said curtly, taking Tonks by the arm.

"Remus, what are you—"

"—it's time to go home."

"What?"

"We're done here!"

Remus dragged Tonks out of the bar. She was flushed and her eyes were glassy, though she was able to glare at him. He had no idea how she'd gotten more to drink, but he didn't like the idea of her having any more.

"I was having fun!"

"That bloke was groping you and wasn't letting go!"

"I want to dance!"

"It's getting late," Remus said, glowering at her. "We need to go home."

"Nooo! Stay!"

"Let her stay, arsehole!" A random passer-by yelled.

"Don't let him control you, sweetheart!" Another shouted at Tonks.

"S-see?" Tonks said, pushing Remus back. "Fun!"

She stumbled back, unsure on her feet, and in the next moment she was bent over, puking into the street.

"Fuck," Remus muttered, seeing those around him stare at Tonks's hair, which looked brown.

"Temporary dye never lasts," a woman said, with her nose upturned at Tonks.

Remus didn't know what to do about the vomit, but he couldn't leave Tonks where she was. People were staring at them, with the expectation that he would be doing something about her.

"All right," he said, taking Tonks's hand. "Let's go."

She tripped over herself, almost falling onto a motorbike, and Remus winced, realizing she couldn't walk. The solution was painfully obvious.

"Up we get, love."

He surreptitiously placed a Featherlight Charm on her and swung her over his shoulder, ignoring her pleas to return to the bar. She banged her fists on his back in protest, but she was in no condition to return.

Finding a dark alleyway, he turned into it and spun on his heel, focusing hard on getting to the top step of the staircase leading to their flat.

It was almost a failure: her weight nearly toppled him over, but he unlocked the door with his free hand and dropped her on the sofa. He conjured a bucket for her, in case she got sick again, and got the kettle on.

The sound of retching echoed from the living room. Remus grimaced, hoping she'd found the bucket, and brought tea and ginger biscuits to her.

She had found the bucket, and while it wasn't perfect, Remus vanished her sick and used "Scourgify" for what remained. Tonks was pale, with limp, mousy brown hair sticking to her sweaty forehead. She was groaning as she heaved into the bucket.

"Evanesco," he murmured, seeing the mess go away. He sat on the sofa next to her and gently lifted her up so she could sit.

"Ow." Tonks clutched her head, her eyes scrunched up tight, and winced.

"Have some tea." Remus placed the mug in her hands. She took a few sips and set it down on the coffee table with a pained groan.

"Boots." She gestured at her feet, trying to get her boots off. Remus got on his knees, unlaced them, and helped her take them off.

She stood up, holding onto his shoulder for support, and took her shirt off, throwing it at one of the bookcases.

Remus looked away instantly. She wore a polka-dotted bra, and he feared she'd try to take that off, too. He shouldn't be looking at her like this; even though she'd been the one to take her clothes off, she wasn't in her right mind and would be disgusted with him if she found out he saw her without her shirt.

"Tonks…please go to your room. You can get changed there."

"But I live here."

"I know," he said, pained, "but your clothes are in your room. Remember? We're just roommates."

"Oh yeah…my werewolf friend." She patted him on the head, slurring her words. "G-good boy." Remus pressed his lips together and stood up, seeing her try to move clumsily around him.

"I'll help you." He put his hand on her waist—her very soft, smooth waist, he noticed—and led her to her room. Once there, she flopped onto her bed, thrashing her denim-clad legs.

Remus conjured a glass of water and put it on her bedside, expecting she'd find it before she went to sleep.

"This is….sss-stupid."

She took out her wand from her pocket, pressed the tip to her trousers, and mumbled a charm. They split apart at the seams, and she kicked the fabric off, leaving her down to her knickers.

Remus clapped his hands over his eyes and backed away. He couldn't see her naked.

"Tonks? Will you be okay?"

"Hrmph."

"I'm going to close the door now. There's water on your nightstand."

"You called me love."

Remus froze and peeked through his fingers. She was still wearing only her bra and knickers, but she was sitting up, staring at him.

"I did," he recalled uncomfortably. "We're supposed to be a couple. That's what people call each other."

"Love," Tonks mumbled. "Nighty-night, love." She fell back on her blanket and closed her eyes. Remus turned off the light and closed the door, hoping she wouldn't remember anything in the morning.

….

Tonks held her head in her hands, moaning at the table.

"Eat," Remus said gently. "You'll feel better."

He brought her toast with jam, a bowl of berries, and a cup of coffee.

"How much did I drink last night?"

"At least half a pitcher of sangria…more, but I don't know how. I was at the bar while you were dancing."

"Shit." Tonks hung her head and pushed the food away. "It's a blur. Did you carry me home?"

"Part of the way, yes. I got you over my shoulder until I found a place for us to Apparate."

Tonks rubbed her face with her palms and squinted in the sunlight. "Was that before or after I threw up?"

"Both." Remus pushed the food back under her nose. "You left some of your dinner in the street. The rest I vanished."

"This is so embarrassing…don't tell me I did anything else."

"You called me a good boy," he said, rolling his eyes. "Other than that, I got you to bed and you stayed there till morning."

"And my clothes? I wasn't—I didn't go to bed without them?"

Remus felt his face and neck flush. He'd woken up rock hard, having dreamt of Tonks's scantily clad body, and took a freezing shower to make himself presentable for breakfast.

"You removed some of your clothes," he replied evenly. "But not all of them."

"So stupid," Tonks mumbled. "At least you didn't see—"

"—I didn't see anything I shouldn't have, I don't think," he lied, knowing he shouldn't have seen her without her shirt or trousers. She moaned and finally reached for the toast, taking a nibble out of the corner. "Could I ask you something, Tonks?"

"Mmm."

"Is that—usual for you? I don't mean to pry, but if we're going to live together—"

"—I don't usually drink that much. I used to go out more, with Steph and our friends. We're over now and she kept most of the friends."

"I see."

"I'm such an idiot. I ran into her and her new girlfriend…fuck, how does she already have one? I know I've got a 'boyfriend,' but it's not real. None of this is. And Steph's new girlfriend so bloody gorgeous and I'm just…me." She gestured at her pale face and limp, mousy brown hair. "This is me, without all the morphing. I'm just…okay looking. I wanted to forget and feel good about myself."

Remus hesitated, trying to think of the right words to say. He didn't know if he should tell her she was a very pretty witch, and that even in her inebriated state, she'd inspired some rather graphic dreams in his imagination. He wanted to say that even now, with the dark circles under her eyes and her hair a disheveled mess, he thought she was far too good looking for the likes of him. It's not as if she'd run into her ex with him at her side. If she had, perhaps she'd been more embarrassed to be with him.

"Pathetic, isn't it?"

"You're not pathetic," he said. "I was like you, once. The years after the Potters died and Sirius was in prison, I spent a lot of nights like that. It'll get better with time."

Tonks nibbled at her toast, looking forlorn and small.

"You're 22. It's normal to feel this way. I'm sure this new girlfriend isn't anywhere near as talented as you."

"She's a Quidditch player."

"And?"

Tonks gaped at him. "She's a Quidditch player. A professional one."

"You're an Auror. We can live in a world without Quidditch, but not without you."

A toothy grin grew on Tonks's face. "You're too kind, you know that?"

Remus felt the heat rise to his cheeks. "I'm not saying anything that isn't true."

"You know," she said, after taking a long, slow sip of her coffee, "when the policy is reversed and we can split up, I'll help find someone for you. You're a catch."

Remus nodded half-heartedly. 'Catch' wasn't a word he'd ever use to describe himself.

"We've got an Order meeting tonight, don't we?"

"At seven. Headquarters will be full of Weasleys."

Tonks's smile hadn't faded. "So you can introduce me to your former students as your clumsy, okay looking girlfriend?"

"I'll admit to clumsy," he replied, imagining how he'd tell the Weasleys and Harry about Tonks, "and they'll see for themselves that you're more than 'okay looking.'"

A blush appeared on her cheeks. She took her mug with both hands, and Remus felt his stomach churn, thinking he'd said too much.