Author's Note: I'm not sure why I wrote so much detail about the Weasleys and co playing charades, it was just supposed to be a backdrop for long, lingering glances between Tonks and Lupin and I got carried away.
(I'm also not sure that anyone outside the UK will even have a clue what this game, traditionally played at Christmas, is!)
Remus was in the kitchen shelling peas for Molly's splendid New Year's Eve dinner when he heard her arrive. He was feeling slightly weary, although the full moon wasn't due for another eight days. The impact of living with so many other people, most of them so very loud, was beginning to tell on him, and he was putting more effort than he would let show into managing Sirius's darkening mood as far as he could.
Sirius had always loved New Year's Eve; being cooped up inside for a wholesome family party on a night designed for hedonism and excess was a torment for him.
There was a vigorous bang on the door, followed by a loud creak and the clatter of someone dropping something or knocking something over. Though Tonks wasn't expected, Remus would have known who it was from these sounds alone even before anybody spoke. Nobody was looking at him; he allowed himself a ridiculously sappy grin as he readied himself to see the only extrovert whose company he never found overwhelming.
"Tonks!" Ginny's delighted voice echoed down the marble hall towards the kitchen, followed by the familiar sound of Tonks knocking off a sheaf of other people's coats and cloaks as she attempted to add hers to the mass on the coat rack.
"Wotcher, Gin," Tonks said, cheerfully. "Happy New Year's Eve!"
Fred and George appeared to have emerged from wherever they had been lurking so as to avoid helping their mother in the kitchen, because Fred's voice could be heard to say, with teasing gallantry, "What a dazzling outfit, Nymphadora. So glad you could join us. Thought you said you were celebrating New Year's in the pub with your mates?"
"Call me that again and you won't live to see 1996," Tonks replied, cheerfully. "Yeah, I am. Don't need to arrive until ten thirty though, thought I'd spend some time with my favourite cousin and his motley crew house party first."
Sirius had been in the drawing room making punch and filling up the drinks cabinet for a suspiciously long time, but the sound of him emerging followed this statement, and then of Tonks hugging so affectionately that he stepped backwards onto one of the twins' feet.
"You're insane to come here when you could be, you know, anywhere else," Sirius told her, but there was a warmth in his voice that had been markedly absent over the past few days.
"I know. Family trait, innit," laughed Tonks. "Come on, let's get pissed. Where's this famous punch?"
"For you, coz, I'll make cocktails," Sirius replied grandly. I can offer one of my own invention, called Obliviate Totalis?"
"Sounds like an offer I can't refuse," said Tonks, and they disappeared into the drawing room. As the sound of her voice receded, Remus came back to himself, and found that Molly was looking at him shrewdly. "How're those peas coming along, Remus?" she asked with a twinkle in her eye. He gave her a crumpled smile, and applied himself to his task again undistracted. He had just finished when Tonks came breezing into the kitchen with Ginny, her cheeks already flushed with the effects of Sirius's potent drink.
Tonks was rightly famed for her ability to hold her drink, however, and was no more of a liability than usual as she hugged Molly and narrowly avoided upsetting a platter loaded with roast beef, while giving Remus a smile and a wink over Molly's shoulder.
"Wotcher, both," she said, cheerfully. "We've come to help."
"Oh, lovely," Molly said nervously, "Why don't you sit over there? Ginny, you can start taking these plates of vegetables through." She turned to Tonks. "Won't your parents want you on New Year's Eve?" Molly asked, flicking her wand towards the plates on the dresser, so that one came soaring serenely through the air and landed in front of her. She started ladling vegetables onto it.
"Nah, I've spent New Year's Eve with friends since I was 14," Tonks grinned. "Mum and Dad go out to their friends' house. I'm cordially invited, but it's the kind of do where you have to wear a nice dress." Tonks made a face.
"You're wearing a dress now," Ginny pointed out, picking up the plate, now piled high with vegetables, and setting off towards the dining room. The corners of Remus's mouth twitched as he saw Molly bite back her opinion on whether Tonks's hot pink minidress, with matching hair and ripped black tights, constituted a nice dress. The top of the dress was fitted, and though the skirt was flared, it was extremely short. Remus was studiously avoiding considering the dress, or more specifically Tonks in the dress, in any detail but he had seen enough to be clear that he thought it was very nice indeed.
Tonks briefly met his eye and she grinned. Remus knew that she knew exactly what he was thinking.
"Well, it's lovely that you could join us, dear. It'll make it feel more like a party for the children, and it'll cheer Sirius up no end," Molly said warmly. She patted Tonks's hand and then passed her the next vegetable-laden plate, unsble to stop herself from adding, "be careful!" as Tonks set off towards the dining room with it.
Dinner was a warm and riotous affair. Sirius drank, but no more than the occasion warranted, and quite a lot less than Tonks, as he joked and suggested inappropriate New Year's resolutions for everyone. Remus felt the muscles in his shoulders relax as the sound of his friend's laughter resounding around the table.
After dinner, Molly suggested a game of wizarding charades. Seeing Harry and Hermione's blank faces, Tonks explained, "It's like muggle charades only you use magic to fetch yourself props or other effects. If youre underage you have to get someone else to do the spells for you, of course."
Hermione nodded, but Harry looked none the wiser and Tonks seemed to register that he had not exactly spent his childhood playing jolly parlour games with the Dursleys. She hastily explained, "You pick a book, or a song, or a film if you're playing with muggles, and you act it out - not the plot, like each word of the title, one by one. You're not allowed to make any noise, that's the catch. Everyone else has to guess and whoever gets it right first is up next."
"Okay," Harry said, still sounding bemused, but relatively game.
Almost everybody chose books or songs from the wizarding world, most of which neither Harry or Hermione had heard of. Harry just laughed along and called out suggestions anyway, but Hermione had been getting progressively more frustrated at her inability to compete properly. Ron pointed out darkly that she was lucky not to be familiar with Celestina Warbeck's back catalogue and so be able to easily guess Molly Weasley's efforts, but this didn't cheer her up at all. After Ron had finally guessed Ginny's rendering of "The Midnight Troll", which turned out to be another wizarding childhood classic of which she had not heard, Hermione looked on the verge of storming out. Ron cast a sideways look at her as he muttered something to his Dad and then stood up to take his turn. Ron opened his palms in the symbol for "book" ("As if you've read any books!" jeered Fred. "Is it "How Not To Kill Yourself When You Support The Worst Quidditch Team in History?"). Ron ignored the jibes and did the symbols for "three words" and then started on "first word," and nodded at Arthur.
Arthur pointed his wand at Ron and said, "Verrucius Ubique". The next moment, Ron's face was covered in warts. "Thanks, Dad," he said, adding as if struck by a sudden thought, "I hope you can lift that spell."
"Hideous!", "boils!" "Leprosy!" came suggestions from the others (and "Normal Appearance" from George. Molly and Arthur both pretended not to see the rude gesture Ron made in response). The hilarity increased as Ron got down on hands and knees and started snuffling around on the floor.
In the confusion of the increasingly rude guesses as to what this was meant to convey, Remus indulged himself in a long and uninhibited look at Tonks. She was cross legged on a rug in front of the fire, next to the chair upon which Sirius was elegantly lounging. She was leaning forward and shouting out guesses, laughter in her eyes and a rosy glow from the warmth of the fire over her perfect skin. To look at her nobody would ever have guessed she was in the front line of a nearly hopeless war, and that she spent most of her leisure time in the company of an ageing werewolf who was too frightened to let her tell him that she loved him. The old sinking feeling that he was selfish and loathsome to let her pour her vigour and humour and beauty into him hovered over him like a dark cloud, casting a gloom over eveything.
"Warty pig?" Tonks guessed, as Ron continued his four legged impression, and in response Ron sat up on his haunches and pointed at her excitedly, waving his hand from side to side to indicate that she was on the right track.
"We'll hold that thought, Ron, why don't you go on to another word?" Harry called. Lupin looked briefly at Harry's knowing grin and wondered whether Harry knew full well what Ron was trying to mime and refusing to put him out of his misery.
Tonks looked up and met Remus's eye as Ron writhed around on the floor on his stomach, holding up three fingers to indicate that he'd moved onto the the third word.
"Dying of the plague?" guessed Sirius, laconically, to much hilarity. Ron shook his head vigorously and carried on with his mime. Tonks and Remus held each other's gaze all the while, and Remus felt his breath catch - not with desire, although that was just barely held at bay by a supreme effort of his famous willpower, but with happiness. It wasn't even happiness that she was his, but simply that the dark old world could still contain something as vibrant, lovely and overwhelmingly human as her.
The thread of their gaze was broken when Tonks jumped, startled by the fact that Ron had now slithered onto her foot, sticking his tongue out in the most alarming way.
"Leering snake?" George guessed, and Ron nodded at him encouragingly to indicate he was close, and pointed to his own mouth frantically.
"Hissing?" Tonks hazarded, and Ron half sat up in relief. Before Tonks could say anymore, Hermione's voice rang out, loudly but oddly tremulous. "Ron, is it - it's Hogwarts: a History", isn't it?"
"Thank Merlin you guessed it," he agreed, standing up. "I couldn't think of much else to do and I didn't want to make the snake any more realistic because of - well, y'know." He trailed off awkwardly with a half glance towards his dad, but Arthur chuckled indulgently, whilst Ginny, Fred and George hooted at the idea that Ron's acting abilities were likely to be so good as to bring back any traumatising memories. Hermione, meanwhile, was looking at him with a strange intensity, and not at all in a way that seemed consistent with the fact that his face was still covered in warts. Harry patted Ron on the back as he sat down, his face de-warted by Arthur. "You bloody knew what it was for ages, Harry, you were just enjoying watching me squirm!" Ron accused him, and Harry laughed and did not deny it.
Hermione was delighted to have won at last, and sprang to her feet eagerly. Several minutes later, she was frustrated again, this time at the ineptitude of the guessers. At her behest, Tonks had produced an impressive little rain cloud from which drops pattered gently down and disappeared before they hit the ground, but all anyone could establish was that the first word sounded like rain and the second seemed to relate to the atmosphere, and Hermione carried on frantically pointing at the air around her as though doing so crossly would make the point more effectively than doing so calmly as everyone got more baffled and eventually stopped guessing altogether.
"Jane Eyre," Remus sighed at last, when he couldn't bear to see her struggling anymore, though the last thing he wanted was to act a charade himself. Hermione sank into an armchair with relief.
"I thought it was going to be too easy," she said ruefully, looking around the room. "I thought almost everyone had heard of Jane Eyre."
"Most people here are pureblood wizards or witches, Hermione," Remus reminded her, gently. "Obviously they'll know some muggle classics, but only a few. Of all the people here, only you, Harry, Tonks and I have any muggle parentage."
"Yeah, and you know I'm not much of a reader," Harry pointed out. "You're always telling me to read more."
"Me neither, I know some muggle books but I've never heard of that one," said Tonks. Hermione looked downcast and a little bit lonely all of sudden, and Remus stood up reluctantly to perform a charade of his own, his mind suddenly a complete blank despite the many, many books he had read over the past 30 years. Eventually he shrugged and began his charade, with the gestures that denote a book of three words.
It didn't go well. Nobody was able to make anything of Remus pointing at his middle and then moving on to touching his ear for "sounds like" and then waving his hand. Ginny's suggestion of "Tummy band?" caused the twins to suggest "Cummerband", apparently the name of a romantic novel set in wizarding America much beloved by Molly Weasley and derided by all her children, and set off much good natured teasing. But it also prompted Tonks to sit up suddenly and say, "Oh. The Waste Land." Remus paused mid gesture and looked at her, and everyone else turned to look at her curiously as well.
"What in Merlin's name is the Waste Land?" demanded Ron. "Why is everyone doing books nobody's ever heard of?"
"It's a long poem written by TS Eliot in the 1920s, a masterpiece of modernism. And of melancholy, which is why I'm so fond of it," Remus explained dryly.
"I thought you weren't much of a reader?" Sirius said to Tonks, slyly. Tonks shrugged with apparent casualness. "I meant novels," she said hastily. "Poetry's different. Bloody love the stuff."
Before anyone could ask her anything else about her poetical tastes, she looked at her watch and scrambled to her feet. "I'd better be off," she said. "It's cheating for a metamorphmagus to play charades, anyway. Happy New Year, all. Thanks for a lovely dinner, Molly, and thanks for all those absolutely lethal cocktails which I'll certainly regret in the morning, Sirius."
Everyone waved their warm goodbyes and New Year's wishes to Tonks, and Remus found himself slipping quietly after her from the room, trusting that everyone would be too distracted by Fred's announcement that it was time to set up the fireworks that he and George had planned to notice him go.
Tonks turned and grinned at him as she reached for her coat. The twins had evidently hung it up for her, and it was just out of her grasp. Remus strode over and plucked it easily from the hook, then politely helped her into it.
"Bit obvious, following me out, isn't it?" Tonks said with a breathy, slightly drunken giggle.
"Not as obvious as you in that game," Remus chuckled. "The Wasteland, indeed. I deliberately chose something nobody would guess to make Hermione feel better about Jane Eyre."
"You shouldn't be so bloody nice! Anyway I didn't mean to guess it, it just slipped out. You quoted it last month when we went on that freezing walk down by the Thames. You said -"
"The nymphs are departed. Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song," finished Remus.
"Yeah and that other bit, about "Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud nor long. But at my back in a cold blast I hear/ The rattle of bones and chuckle spread from ear to ear"."
"I had no idea you'd remembered," Remus said, astonished. He hadn't even thought that she was really listening.
"I liked it. Beautiful but sinister. Like our lives," she said, and added with a hint of that drunken giggle, "Just so you know, I find it incredibly sexy when you read poetry."
"I'll file that away for future reference," he told her, honestly. He fought against an urge to beg her to stay with him tonight, to sneak upstairs and let him read her as much poetry as she could stand, and to do other things, too. But he knew that the bright city lights called her, and that it was where she belonged. So he said lightly, "Enjoy your night, Dora".
"You, too. You'll be awake drinking and smoking with Sirius long into the night, probably after I've gone to bed," Tonks rolled her eyes. Pausing with her hand on the door knob she looked up at him and asked suddenly, "Remus, if it weren't for Sirius, and for - y'know, the whole you-know-who malarkey, would you come out with me? Meet my friends?" She asked it in tones of frank interest.
Remus hesitated. What could he say? That if it weren't for the whole Voldemort malarkey he would never have dreamed of touching her? That he only dared to at all because he assumed that he would be dead within another year, desperately hoped that she would not and that she could move on with someone better when peace came again? That it broke his heart when she insisted on paying him the crazy compliment of believing that a long term, public relationship beteen them were anything but a feverish that haunted him?
These weren't words for New Year's Eve. Instead he smiled thoughtfully down at her and said, "That depends. Would they make me play charades?"
Tonks laughed, but she left her question hanging in the air. So he took refuge in a misleading placed truth, of the sort that he usually associated with cheating husbands or politicians.
"I'd do anything in the world to make you happy," he said, and he meant it. He just knew what she didn't, that if they both lived that long then making her happy in the long term was going to involve disappearing from her life. Resolutely he shoved the thought away and he bent to kiss her. "Happy New Year, Dora," he murmured into her hair, and then to his own surprise he found that he had added the exact opposite of what he knew he should be saying to her. "Please don't give me up for your New Year's resolution."
She pulled away so that she could look up and beam at him with her lovely frank eyes.
"Couldn't even if I wanted to," she replied, with a wink, and then she slipped out of the door and into the blackness of the night.