The next day he's back at his usual table, at the start of the lunch rush. He smiles at her, and asks how the book is going, she hasn't really read a page since he left the night before, but she lies and says it's going great. And that's it. Last day's conversation could've been just a figment of her imagination for all the difference it makes. She feels disappointed, but also clueless as to what to say during the next few days, so they go back to their old routine of polite hellos and thank-yous.

Maybe it's for the best to just think of him the way she thinks of the other patrons, which is barely at all.

"Are you changing to the night shift next month?" her boss asks one afternoon and automatically she glances at Remus' usual table which is now occupied by a couple having some sandwiches.

"Yeah, I almost forgot to tell you."

"I figured. Training starts again, doesn't it?"

She nodds. "Thanks for keeping tabs."

"No problem."

For a moment she considers telling Remus that she won't be able to be his waitress at lunch any longer, but she doubts if he'd care. He's just a nice person treating people nicely and that's that. He'll probably barely notice it when somebody else greets him next Monday. Or maybe she could mention it in passing? Just as a casual remark the next time she brings him the bill?

She never gets to do it, though, because the next day he's absent, and then the day after that. That's when it hits her, as she walks home after her shift and glances to the clear full moon of the early twilight. It would be beautiful, if it wasn't for the fact that she can't take her mind off horrid visions of painful transformations and blood. Also, she realises now she won't get a chance to tell him.

The next Monday she wants to casually drop by at lunchtime at the bistro, even though there is no need. She has the evening hours now, and she's sad. She'll miss him, absurd as it is.

But then mid August comes, and training starts and she can't even consider doing a minute over what's strictly necessary for her to keep her job, busy as she is with tests, tasks and reading. She is tired, of course, but that's not new and she finds herself back in her routine, sometimes remembering that regular from the summer but unable to do something about trying to find him again.

One day she's tasked to fetch a file on a werewolf that is also a suspect in a case Moody's working on. For a moment she considers asking for Remus' file as well but she decides against it. She doesn't know his last name, and even if she manages to get the file, she knows the information is usually dry and maybe even biased. Besides, it won't do her any good to have more reasons to think about him.

It is the last night of August when she sees him again. Out of the corner of her eye she notices a patron entering the bistro, half an hour before closing time, and she's annoyed until she actually looks up and sees him. Their eyes meet and he smiles sheepishly at her, his hand giving a little wave.

She is busy with a customer's bill but still she sees him walking to his usual table. This time, though, instead of sitting with his back to the other tables he's facing the bistro and that strikes her as odd.

She hurries up to beat the other waitress at his table. It's silly, really, but her heart has given a funny jump when she saw him, and now she's facing him, slightly out of breath.

"Hello, Remus" she manages, ready to take his order.

"Hello, Tonks. Long time no see."

It's such a small thing but she knows that it means that he noticed her, and she wonders if he's here because of her. The next second she's mentally scolding herself. It is a very silly idea.

"Yeah... What can I get you?"

He seems to weigh his words for a moment.

"Just a roast beef sandwich."

"All right. And a beer?"

"Er… just water, please."

She hurries with his order and then goes back to the rest of the patrons, trying to believe this is like all those other times when he was a regular at lunch hour.

But something feels different today. She feels his eyes on her, from time to time. She even looks up to find him hastily looking away, and it puzzles her. At some point their eyes meet and he holds his gaze with a tiny smile. It lasts just a second before another client calls for her, but she can't stop thinking if there is a meaning to it.

She is in no hurry to get his check, she doesn't want him to leave, but she knows the other waitress would if she doesn't. She finally approaches his table again, taking the empty plate with a slightly trembling hand.

"Everything all right with your order?"

"Yes. Very good."

"I'm glad. It's-"

"Tonks?" He interrupts her. "Is it ok if I invite you for a beer? After closing time?"

Her heart stops somewhere around her throat and she stares at him.

"I get it, you're probably tired-" he hastens to add, and she realises he's mistaking her silence for rejection.

"No, no. It's a brilliant idea," she beams at him. "You can wait here and… it'll take me about half an hour. Is that ok?"

He smiles in a way she's never seen before, with wrinkles around his eyes. "Perfect."

That half an hour turns out to stretch longer because of a customer that doesn't want to go, and while the owner argues with him, she hastens to do her share of cleaning and putting stuff away. She doesn't want to look up too many times, but she does anyway, happy to see him there, happy to meet his eyes.

Finally she takes off her apron in the kitchen, briefly glances at the mirror wondering if she should transfigure her clothes or do something with her hair but decides against it. Her expectations seem to be sky high and she's not sure how wise that is.

He is no longer inside the bistro, but she can see him outside through the glass door, his hands in his pockets. For the hundredth time since she saw him enter the bistro that first day, she briefly wonders what it is about this man that catches her attention. She is happy that she might find out tonight.

"Wotcher," she says, opening the door, and he turns around, smiling.

"Hello."

"So, where are we going?"

"What about… a Muggle pub?"

She nods, a tad relieved. The last thing she wants is to run into somebody from the law enforcement squad that could want to join her. "Great idea, do you know where?"

"There is one a couple of blocks away from the Leaky Cauldron."

During the walk he asks her about her new hours at the night shift and she complains a little about having more customers that mistake them with a bar and thus protest when they have to leave at closing time.

Finally they make it to the pub and he orders a couple of pints of beer for them. They take a table in the corner as far as possible from the other patrons.

"Cheers, then," Tonks finally says, raising her glass.

"Cheers." He smiles at her. "So, how's training?"

"Not bad… they've brought a couple of foreign instructors last week and that was intense. And unlike last year, I'm actually getting some field work with Moody."

"How's that like?" he says, looking genuinely interested.

"Painful," she admits, and starts sharing about the last suspect Moody sent her to chase, and how they ended up tangled in thorny bushes. He laughs, and asks questions, and Tonks feels at ease. "And then there is the whole Sirius Black thing, and that has everybody on edge."

Is it her impression on Remus is sitting a little straighter at the mention of the former prisoner? A lot of people are scared of Black, who could blame them? But that seems somewhat out of character for Remus.

"How so?"

"First inmate escaping from Azkaban," she huffs. "The entire Law Enforcement Squad has their knickers in a twist and Moody is giving extra mandatory seminars to everybody with a wand."

He nods sympathetically.

"I mean," she adds. "I know this is serious, but I'm not sure panic is going to help at this point." She sighs. "So, enough of the trainee's life," she adds after a moment. "What about your job?"

His smile is unexpected but instead of answering he points at the empty glasses. "Would you like another one?"

"Sure, thanks," she says, a little taken aback. Maybe he doesn't want to talk about his job. Maybe his absences made his boss decide to finally sack him, and the whole subject makes him uncomfortable.

Still, when he comes back, carrying two pints, he's smiling and she is a little relieved.

"So…" he says after placing the glasses on the table. "About my job."

Tonks looks at him a little surprised he's going back to the subject.

"Yeah?"

"I actually got a job offer. For… a magic facility."

"No way! That's awesome!"

"It is, rather. I'm actually very excited about it."

She beams, and now he's doing it as well.

"So, what is this magic facility?"

His grin grows wider. "Have you heard of this place called Hogwarts?"

She blinks for a moment, trying to figure out if he's joking. "Get out of here!"

He chuckles. "I swear."

"What does that mean? Are you going to be like… a…" she doesn't dare to ask. Maybe they just hired him to be part of the maintenance crew, even though as far as she remembers there are house elves taking care of that. Maybe Hagrid is retiring, although Remus doesn't strike her as a gamekeeper type… or particularly interested in magical creatures, except himself of course, but it'd be better not to think about it, at all.

He is still smiling. "Like a professor."

She blinks a couple of times. "That is amazing," she says, a little breathless, and it strikes her how little she knows about this man. Except for the fact that he's always reading at the bistro, and that he's well articulated, nothing has given her a clue that he'd be the scholarly type.

"It is,"he says, simply, but she cannot be fooled by the apparent modesty. He's still beaming.

"What class will you teach?"

"Defence against the Dark Arts."

"No way," she says, considering for a moment that this all might be an elaborate joke of his. "That was my all time favourite subject! How do you- I mean, what's your experience…?"

She realises it sounds as if she's doubting him but she's genuinely curious.

He doesn't seem to take it in the wrong way. "During the first war… I used to be in the middle of it. Not as part of the Law Enforcement Squad because... you know."

She does. They wouldn't let a werewolf in.

He carries on, undisturbed. "And then after the war I went abroad on my own and studied a lot."

Tonks nods. You can't tell now, after over 10 years, but many wizards and witches now doing regular things actually took an active part in the fighting back then. Somehow it all fits the image she's forming of him.

"So… Do you know what will you teach them?"

"More or less… I have about half of the first term planned. And outlines about the rest of the year. I guess I'll see what works, before making loads of plans."

"You don't have much time, term starts-" and then it hits her, and it's clear from his change of expression to a much sober one, that he knows she's added two and two. "You'll leave tomorrow," she finally says, and it is as if all the joy she'd felt for him had been instantly taken away by a Dementor. He won't be a regular anymore. They've ran out of reasons or opportunities to meet.

"I do," he nods slowly.

"And here I was thinking this was the beginning of a beautiful friendship," she says, trying to sound cheeky but realising there is resentment in her voice.

He remains silent for a moment. "I'm sorry. Maybe this was a bad idea."

"Don't be sorry," she says, snapping out of it and placing her hand on his instinctively. "You're full of great news and I'm just happy for you, and honoured that you chose me to share them with."

He chuckles. "In all honesty, I've been wanting to talk to you for a while now. To ask you out. Only… I never gathered the courage to do so."

"I'm glad you finally did," she says.

"Me too."

Suddenly she's very aware of his warm hand under hers and she pulls away and takes her pint, trying for the movement to be casual. "And about you going away… there's always owl post."

He smiles. "I'd like that."

And then it occurs to her, and maybe it's the Auror training kicking in again. "What about… I'm so sorry, but what about schedules and the full moon…? Do they know at the school...?" She really wants to ask about the kids' safety, but she cannot bring herself to put it in such terms. Not when the apparent threat is a nice man, smiling and looking as far as menacing as someone could look.

Surprisingly, he smiles again. "Oh, they know. Dumbledore knows me since I was a kid. As a matter of fact, It took me a while to agree to his offer, but then he mentioned this potion…"

She remembers. One of the foreign wizards talked about it, and then Robarts agreed on the efficacy of it and Moody said it was part of the things she would learn to brew during this year. "Wolfsbane," she whispers.

"Yeah," Remus nods. "Wolfsbane."

"Have you taken it before?"

He shakes his head. "It's very expensive. And it's supposed to be terribly difficult to brew."

"I know."

"And I'm lousy at potions."

"Are you?"

"Famously known for placing the cauldron upside down more than once."

She laughs, "You're making that up."

"Alas, I have no witnesses left, but yeah, that happened."

"And now…?"

"The school's Potions master will brew it for me. It's part of the job description."

Tonks blinks. "Is Snape still the Potions master?"

He nods.

"Ugh," she comments.

"I'd agree with you, but since my life will be in his hands, I'd rather keep a neutral opinion."

"You're probably right." She smiles again. "All of this makes it sound like the perfect job for you."

"It is the perfect job."

She takes a long sip of beer. "So, what are those kids going to face, then?"

He seems almost relieved about the change of subject, and starts happily explaining his ideas, and the way he plans on delivering them. He talks about banshees for sixth-years and bringing in imps for the fourth-years, and she's hanging on his every word driven by this sudden energy he punts into his ideas.

"I wish I was back at school," she says at some point and he smiles. "You're going to make a hell of a professor."

"That's kind."

"And true."

He looks down at his hands and she can swear, even at the dim light of the pub, that he's blushing.

"Now I remember," she suddenly says. "There's a book… you probably know it already. 'Practical exercises with XX and XXX rated beasts for the fearless beginner'?"

"Never heard of it."

"I think it is rather old. My mum gave it to me when I was at school and it was old then."

"Is it any good?"

"It's hilarious. And, if I remember correctly, it has plenty of practical activities."

He smiles. "That could be useful."

"I can lend it to you."

"I'll leave tomorrow," he says with a hint of sadness in his voice.

"I know, I know. We can go fetch it now."

He beams. "Really?"

"Sure. You take it. And then you'll have a very good reason to come visit next time you have to apparate back to London."

He looks shyly at her and she feels her cheeks burn. Has she really said that aloud? Wouldn't it sound way too forward for a first date that isn't even a date to begin with?

"Sounds like a plan," he finally says and now she's the one beaming. Just to have something to do other than staring at him, she drains her beer and he does the same.

"Let's go, then," she says, standing up.

He follows her, and it's a good thing he's still talking about plans for his lessons because she feels she has suddenly lost the ability to think, let alone talk.

They finally reach a secluded alley and, without a word, she offers him his hand. He takes it, and she allows herself just one second of feeling his skin on hers before disapparating both of them to the empty lot behind her flat.

Now he's the one not talking anymore, and she knows his hand should've left hers when they arrived, but he's still holding it and she won't complain. Without rushing the moment, she walks them inside the building and up the stairs until they finally reach her floor. This time she really has to let go of his hand in order to take her wand and undo the protective spells Moody's always pestering them to put. Remus makes no comments but patiently waits until she finally opens the door and motions him to go inside.

"This is nice," he comments, taking in the rows of books on the shelves, the couch and the mismatched cushions.

"Thanks. Do you want another beer?"

He nods, "thank you."

She's glad. For once, because that would mean he'd stay a while. At least, until finishing his beer. But also because going to the kitchen gives her a chance to take a deep breath. At the beginning of the night this man was just somebody she'd seen at the restaurant. A customer. Somebody with whom she had shared no more than polite conversation, at best. And now he is there, at her place, and she wonders how much further they could get and how much she wants them to.

When she comes back with the open bottles, he's looking at the titles on the bookshelf, his hands clasped on his back. "This is an interesting selection," he comments, taking the beer.

"I try to keep many interests."

He points at a muggle book on monsters. "That's unusual."

"The bestiary? It's very useful. Sometimes they are good as witnesses, muggles, but they are not very good with descriptions. It helps knowing about what they think they've seen."

He nods, and takes the bottle of her hand, brushing her fingers. "Makes sense."

"You read muggle books, too," she states, realising her mistake a second too long.

"How do you know?"

"Sometimes I catch a glimpse of what you're reading during your lunch," she admits.

He chuckles. "Of course."

They smile, and he resumes looking at the books.

"It's not there," she says.

"What?"

"Weren't you looking for the book on beasts?"

He chuckles. "Sorry, I'd almost forgotten about it. I was just admiring your collection."

She beams with pride. "What can I say? I like books."

"So do I," he says, now looking straight into her eyes, and for a moment she's mesmerised by his grey ones. "It's lucky we found each other, then."

"It is."

She can't look at him anymore. Not without feeling some sort of intensity coming both from him and from inside her. Slowly, she turns to face the bookshelves again and takes a rather long sip of her beer.

"Would you give me a moment? I'll get the book."

He nods, and she takes a glance at him before heading to her bedroom. One of the walls is covered in books as well, but these are different. Childhood stories or books she keeps not because they are practical or interesting, but because they are part of her story. She knows exactly where to look.

When she returns to the living room, Remus is sitting on the sofa, reading the bestiary.

"The werewolf description is oddly accurate," he comments casually, almost as if he was talking about the weather.

Tonks nods. She knows it is.

With a sigh, she sits on the sofa at a respectable distance from him.

"They don't mention the after effects, though," he points out.

"What do you mean?"

"Transformations are quite painful. And it takes a couple of days, sometimes even more, to get back on one's feet."

He moves closer to her, and shows the part of the book where they describe part of the process, but nothing of what he's just told her.

"I don't want to be cruel, but I don't think the writers noticed or cared. This is written with muggles in mind."

"I know. But there's the weak spot. If you want to get rid of a werewolf, your best shot is exactly after the full moon."

Tonks takes a deep breath. "Why would I want to get rid of a werewolf?" she asks, trying to change the tone of the conversation into a more playful one. Just as that time in the bistro, she has the feeling he is purposely mentioning his condition and she wonders why.

"That's good to know," he says with a smile.

She chuckles and takes the book out of his hands. "There are many completely bonkers beasts in here. You have to give muggles credit for their fantasy."

"Really?"

She shows him pages of the book and both laugh, and then she summons another book off the shelves with more muggle lore on supposed magical creatures. The book she was supposed to lend him lies forgotten on the coffee table.

After a while, though, he drains his beer and sighs.

"I'm sorry but I really ought to get going."

"Right. You have to be on the train tomorrow! I'm sorry I kept you-"

"Don't be! I was the one who asked. And what a great last night of the holidays this has been."

She smiles, "I'm glad. It's been real nice for me too." As he stands up she takes the book he's borrowing and places it on his hands. "Here. I hope this brings you good luck." And then without really thinking, she stands on her tiptoes and gives him a quick kiss on the lips.

He's smiling. "Was that for good luck, too?"

"Yeah," she says, a little breathless.

"Right." He takes the tiniest of steps forward. "You know… I have never been a professor."

"Haven't you?" she asks, wondering where he is going with this.

"No. So… I guess what I'm saying is that I might need a little more luck."

She chuckles. "Is that so?"

"Yeah. It won't hurt."

She nods. "If you want to borrow another book, you have to bring that one back first."

"Oh, but I wasn't talking about books."

"Right," she says, right before feeling his lips on hers.

This time it is long, and slow, and she can really taste him and feel his body pressed against hers, the book between them. His hand moves to gently cup her face and she feels as if her knees are about to fail on her.

After a moment he moves back, the tip of his fingers still on her cheek, and she just looks at the way his eyes are smiling.

"Whoa," she whispers.

"Too much luck?" he asks and she can hear the humour in his voice.

"There is no such thing," she says, and now she's the one who is closing the gap between them.

He stops after a moment, with a shaky chuckle.

"This has been amazing, Tonks."

She nods. For a moment words seem to fail her.

"Have a great term," she finally manages.

He beams, "I will."

With a deep sigh, he takes a step back, his hand brushing her arm. She watches as he turns around and heads to the door, and finally her body seems to remember how to move and she follows him.

"Owl post, alright?" She says, and he nods.

"Alright."

He squeezes her hand for a moment before turning around to climb down the stairs. Tonks looks at his retreating back until he's no longer visible and only then she closes the door with shaky hands.