Chains. Written for Remadora Microfics October day 3: cellar.

Tonks's back itches. The tree she leans against digs into her bare skin. She shifts, more uncomfortable than before, and tugs her jumper down again to see if it will help. It doesn't, and now she's shivering.

"Need help?"

Remus is taking his worn cloak off. He points his wand at it, transfiguring it to a soft, brown blanket. As Tonks accepts it from him, hiding the little sniff she takes of Remus's warm, earthy scent, she notices a set of angry welts around his wrists, peeking out from the ends of his sleeves. She says nothing and crouches down to wrap the blanket around her shoulders. Remus joins her on the ground, his trouser legs riding up, revealing a set of similar, freshly wrapped wounds around his ankles where his socks have slid down. She turns her face away, struggling not to linger on his wounds, and looks up at the starry night sky.

"Tell me another story about your school days," she says, knowing it's one of the few topics that can arouse the greatest joy out of him. "Didn't you say you charmed all the toilets to sing?"

A nostalgic smile grows on Remus's worn, fatigued face. He waves his hands around, taking the welts with him, and Tonks holds his transfigured cloak tighter, recalling what she'd seen at Grimmauld Place earlier that day.

The morning after the last full moon dawned stormy and grey. Tonks discovered the Floo to Grimmauld Place's kitchen was disconnected, as it always was when Remus was transformed, so she had no choice but to Apparate from her flat to the top step of headquarters to check on him.

Not that he wanted her to check on him. He'd said, many times over, that his transformations were his alone to bear. Nevertheless, he accepted Sirius's help, and Tonks was determined to break down the stupid wall he held around anything related to lycanthropy.

When she marched into headquarters, her iron-clad resolve set on finding Remus, a different ghost of a man stopped her before she could even get to the stairs.

"What are you doing here?"

"How is he?" Tonks asked, darting her eyes upstairs, where Remus's room was.

"The same as always," Sirius replied curtly. "He doesn't want you here."

"I don't care." She tried to move around him but Sirius wouldn't budge.

"Tonks," he said, holding her firmly by the shoulders, "come with me first. Then tell me you still want to see him."

Her face scrunched up in anger, but as she had no other option, she followed him down to the kitchen, where a door she'd never seen before was half-open.

"The cellar," Sirius explained. "It's usually charmed to be invisible."

"You want me to go down there?" Tonks poked her head inside. It reeked of blood, sweat, and something she couldn't place.

"Use Lumos maxima. Come up when you've seen everything."

Tonks raised a red brow at him, confused at what game Sirius was playing, but she turned to the stairs and cast the charm.

A gasp emerged from her lips the moment she saw the steps. Paw prints and footprints were mixed with smears of fresh, scarlet blood. Tonks maneuvered around the puddles of blood, making her way down to the dirt floor, which was caved in with a few puddles of dark liquid. The brick wall, to her left, held a set of chains, with deep, jagged cracks along the walls where something—or someone—had tried to break free.

Tonks gulped and set her wand light on the chains. They, like so many other parts of the cellar, were caked in crusty blood, but as her nostrils caught up to her, she realized urine and feces had made their mark along the floor and walls. A drop of moisture fell to the dirt floor; she realized it had come from her own eyes.

(A few weeks ago, she'd seen chains like this in a sex shop and joked at Remus the next day, only to see him shut down when she mentioned how sexy he'd look in them.)

She brushed the wetness from her cheeks and tucked her wand closer to her body. She didn't know what Sirius was playing at by making her see this horror scene, but it hadn't deterred her from wanting to see Remus.

Tonks cast poorly placed cleaning charms on the steps as she went back up to the light-filled kitchen. She stomped up to the tired ex-convict responsible for Remus's care and flared her nostrils.

"I need to see him."

"You inherited quite a lot from our family," Sirius said calmly. "My Aunt Druella had the same expression whenever I put custard into her boots."

Tonks nearly laughed. She shook her head, scrunching her face to look angrier, and stared her cousin down.

"I want to see Remus."

Sirius sighed tiredly. "Why?"

"Because he's my friend and I want to make sure he's okay."

"Go home, Tonks."

"No—"

"Go. Home. He doesn't want you to—"

"Why?" Tonks interrupted angrily. "You're friends. We're friends. Why doesn't he—"

"You and I both know that he's got more than friendly feelings for you," Sirius said quietly. "You're the last person he wants seeing what it's like for him."

"But I want to—"

Sirius shook his head. "Moony'll stew all day if you see him. He'll second-guess anything you do or say."

Wincing, Tonks looked around her, setting her eyes on a roll of parchment sitting on the table. "What if I wrote him a letter?"

Sirius summoned the parchment, a quill, and a pot of ink. "As long as you don't see him, write whatever you want."

Stories from their school days have been shared and Tonks sees the emerging sunrise on the horizon. Remus hasn't said a word about the letter she left him; she wonders if Sirius delivered it. The lull in their conversation has gone on long enough that Tonks thinks Remus is ruminating.

"Did you get my letter?" she asks suddenly.

"Thank you, I did."

"And?"

"You're very kind."

She leans her head on his shoulder. Remus's breath hitches but he doesn't move.

"Does that mean you'll let me see you next time?"

"It's not so simple for me," he mumbles.

"But it can be," she returns gently. Tonks finds his arm and raises it, slowly uncovering one of the healing injuries around his wrist. "I'm not afraid of this. It doesn't change how I feel." She runs her fingers along the back of his hand, delighted when his fingers reach back for hers.

"I can't give you what you deserve."

"I choose what I deserve."

She brings his hand up to her lips and kisses it, her stomach flipping violently when his pupils go dark and wide.

The sun has risen, drenching them in its buttery rays. They turn to face each other, avoiding the direct light, and Tonks sees Remus's eyes flicker to her mouth.

"Do it," she whispers. "Kiss me."

Remus's throat bobs. He looks away for a fraction of a second but bends his face closer, hesitating once more before lightly brushing her lips with his.