Practicing computer stuff
Love Is Friendship Set On Fire
Remus stared around, aghast. His haven had been invaded. Nowhere was safe for him anymore.
Flourish and Blotts was bustling with Christmas shoppers. As he struggled through the thronging crowd, trying to reach the slightly less crowded Self-Defence shelves where he hoped he might recover a little from his shock, Remus reflected on the other reason he hadn’t really celebrated Christmas in over a decade - aside from lack of money, lack of company, and general lack of Christmas spirit. But then he smiled. Even though his toes were being squashed by a portly woman with ridiculously pointy, blindingly purple-shoed toes, he had to thank Merlin that this year was different. Miraculously, despite the dreadful circumstances that had caused the Order of the Phoenix to reassemble, Remus was looking forward to this Christmas. This year he had many others to celebrate with - Sirius, Dumbledore, Harry, the Weasleys … and, of course, Tonks - and even though Arthur was in hostpital everyone was working together in true Christmas style to make this one better, for everybody.
However, Remus didn’t have a great deal of time to recover from Christmas shopping stress. It was while he was flicking through Modern Curses and Counter-curses: A Guide to the Latest Innovations in Offensive and Defensive Magic as a potential present for Sirius (whose pranks were a little out-dated due to his stint in prison) that he was unexpectedly jolted from his distraction by a warm, familiar voice greeting him loudly.
“Wotcher, Remus!”
The wizard in question looked up slowly and stared at the love of his life … that is, at his good friend. For a moment he couldn’t breathe - he felt like that a lot around her - as he took in the snow in her festive red and green hair (which clashed horribly with her orange winter cloak), the pink scarf that matched her glowing cheeks, and her beautiful, sparkling dark eyes. Then he realised he was staring, and hastened to cover his tracks.
“Tonks!” he exclaimed, rather too loudly. “What are you doing here? I thought you had work today?”
“I do,” she replied, with a grimace. “But I’ve been so busy lately I haven’t had time to do any Christmas shopping, and we’ve only got a few days left. So I’m skipping my lunch break.”
As she said this, her stomach gave a loud grumble. Remus raised his eyebrows, and Tonks’ cheeks blushed pinker. She looked very pretty when she blushed.
“Apparently my body doesn’t care how close it is to Christmas, it just wants feeding.”
“Stomachs are like that,” said Remus, then cursed himself for saying such a stupid thing. But she laughed, eyes glowing, and Remus felt something warm swell up deep inside him, as it often did when she looked at him like that; as if he was the only man in the world.
It was this warm, swelling feeling that had been responsible for a great many of his past romantic debacles, but, despite each embarrassing failure, he hadn’t quite given up hope yet. It was also this warm, swelling feeling that was responsible for his impulsive decision to ask Tonks to have lunch with him at the Leaky Cauldron. His heart leapt as she grinned gratefully up at him.
“May I carry your bags?” Remus asked after he had paid for his books, wondering even as he said it whether it sounded gallant or cheesy.
Tonks smiled at him, but shook her head.
“Your Christmas present is in one,” she explained. “And it wouldn’t do for you to see it before the proper time!”
Remus felt his heart drop as suddenly as it had risen.
He hadn’t yet bought Tonks a Christmas present. He didn’t even know what she might like, and even if he did, he probably wouldn’t be able to afford it. He would have had enough trouble even if he didn’t buy them both lunch at the Leaky Cauldron.
“What’s up?” Tonks asked, looking concerned. “You’ve gone all quiet.”
“It’s fine,” said Remus, trying to smile.
He didn’t deserve those looks: the looks of concern; the looks that made him feel like he was the only one in the world; the looks that occasionally made him think that maybe, just maybe, he had a chance. But he didn’t. He was too poor, and too much of a werewolf to deserve her. But he couldn’t tell her that. She didn’t even know how he felt about her. So he would just have to ignore the looks in her eyes - the ones that gave him hope - and let the chance pass him by.
It was for the best, really.
* * * * *
“What’s the matter, Moony? You used to be King of the Common Room at Exploding Snap, and suddenly you’re off your game.” Sirius leaned back in his chair gracefully and raised an imperious eyebrow at his old friend.
“It’s fine,” Remus said yet again, taking another huge swallow and feeling the liquid burning his throat in a surprisingly unsatisfying way. He batted away the wisp of smoke rising from the ancient cards and shuffled them again, before returning them to the broken, dog-eared packet. “I just feel like complete crap, is all.”
“Is that it? Oh good, nothing to worry about then.” Sirius’ chair suddenly crashed onto all four legs as its occupant leaned forward conspiratorially. “Come on, tell Uncle Padfoot what’s wrong.”
“Why? So you can tell me I’m being stupid and I can pretend to feel better so that you’ll leave me alone?” Remus demanded, annoyed. “I’ll save myself the bother and go to my room now.”
He stood up, but Sirius yanked him down again immediately.
“Alright, if you won’t tell me, I’ll guess what’s wrong. Is it about Tonks?”
Remus said nothing. He knocked back his tea, wishing that Molly hadn’t confiscated all the Firewhiskey when she moved into Grimmauld Place for the holidays.
“Right. Sorry. Stupid question, really. Of course it’s about Tonks. What did she do this time? Did she smile at you? Did she look at you in adoration?”
Remus glared at him. Sirius tried a different tack.
“She said she saw you in Diagon Alley yesterday.”
Remus grunted.
“Oh! I know what it is! It’s Christmas, and you don’t know what to get her,”
Remus sighed. “Something like that.”
“Well, I don’t see what the problem is. She’d love anything you gave her; she worships you.”
Remus buried his face in his hands.
“You know, if you really wanted to make her Christmas, you could ask her out.”
“And why the hell would she want to be with me?” Remus snapped. “I’m nothing, and she’s … everything. What could I possibly do to ever deserve her?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe give her some of Remus’ Patented Love, Respect and Thoughtfulness. I hear girls like Tonks don’t really get that sort of treatment these days. Of course, that’s only hearsay,” Sirius added bitterly. “I can’t go out and verify the facts myself.”
“Oi!” said Remus, indignantly. “This is my pity party, not yours. Sulk on your own time.”
“Right. Sorry.” Sirius at least had the grace to look a little ashamed of himself. “So go on, then. Why don’t you think you deserve her?”
“I’m a werewolf. And she’s an Auror. She should be throwing me to the Werewolf Capture Unit, not making me fall in love with her.”
“Maybe the regular Aurors - Scrimgeour and that lot - would throw you to the WCU, but Tonks isn’t like that. Neither’s Kingsley. (Though I hope you’re not in love with him too.) They’re intelligent, enlightened individuals, not useless, bigoted Ministry slaves like the others. And Tonks knows you’re not at all like the stereotype portrayed by the anti-werewolf propaganda, and she wouldn’t even dream about turning you over to the WCU, and if she even speculated about thinking about dreaming it I’d cut out her heart and feed it to you at full moon.”
“Which brings us to my next point,” said Remus, cringing at the gruesome imagery. “I’m dangerous.” Sirius leaned back, appraising him with mocking eyes. “I mean when I’m transformed!” he added quickly.
“Tonks knows how to handle it. And anyway, her career of choice is a Dark Wizard Catcher; I’d say she likes a bit of danger. Next!”
“I’m thirteen years older than her. I’m nearly old enough to be her father!”
“What would you have done, changed her nappy whilst swotting in the library?” Sirius laughed. “Pince would’ve murdered you! Not to mention that I can’t, somehow, see you as a teenage dad. And anyway, you’re not her father, so that’s OK. Next!”
“That doesn’t answer the question!”
“Why not? You could be fifty years older than her and it wouldn’t matter: you two are perfect for each other. Next!”
Remus looked down at his old, patched robes, sadly.
“I’m poor,” he said quietly. “Why on earth should she be with me, when she can be with someone who can give her the sort of gifts and dates she deserves?”
“Ah,” said Sirius. “This brings us back to the Christmas present issue, doesn’t it? You want to get her something flashy and expensive because you think she deserves it, or because you think that’s what she’d like, and you want to show that you care about her, but you have no … ah, I mean … you have very limited funds.”
Remus nodded glumly.
“Well,” said Sirius after a moments thought. “I don’t know Tonks as well as you do, but she never really struck me as a materialistic sort of girl. I think she’d rather have something small and cheap that came from your heart, than something flashy and expensive. And I’m sure that - with help from Uncle Padfoot, of course - you could think of some fairly exciting and inexpensive places you could take her, should you ever actually summon the courage to ask her out.”
Despite himself, Remus was beginning to feel better. Hope was swelling inside him again like a luminous balloon as Sirius swept his insecurities away with each dismissive argument.
Remus looked at him and suddenly smiled, nostalgically.
“What?” Sirius asked.
“Nothing. I just suddenly realised why James would always ask you for romantic advice. We did wonder, you know. You never exactly struck us as a great romantic role-model.”
“Well you were wrong! Romance is my speciality!”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Remus laughed.
“Oh come on! I’ve been shut up in this house for six months or so. I’ve had nothing to do except think about the romance blooming right under my nose. It’s especially annoying since it’s happening to my best friend Remus Hopeless-With-Girls Lupin and not me!”
“Hey! We’re not done here yet,” Remus said, as the inevitable scowl began to darken Sirius’ face. “We still have to decide exactly what I’m getting as Tonks’ Christmas present.”
“We’ll do that tomorrow,” said Sirius, rising from his chair and kicking it under the table. “She’ll be here any minute for your weekly Exploding Snap tournament. Speaking of which, you should probably give her back the pack - they hardly even puff smoke anymore. We’ll use Fred and George’s for real explosions. Tell her to get a new pack by the time the kids go back to school.”
“Why do you care if they explode properly or not? You hardly ever play with us anymore.”
“Only because I don’t like feeling like a third wheel. Exploding Snap is the only thrill I get these days, though; the cards should at least make an effort.”
But Remus wasn’t listening. He had just had an idea. A wonderfully, brilliantly simple idea that positively reeked of Remus’ Patented Thoughtfulness. Smiling broadly, he leapt up and pulled Sirius into a hug.
“Uncle Padfoot,” he said grandly. “You are the most wonderful, most patient and most helpful agony aunt … uncle, the wizarding world has ever seen. You are a genius.”
As he sauntered out of the room, Remus thought that at least the scowl had been wiped from his friend’s face, to be replaced by a look of utmost confusion.
* * * * *
The house was quiet for the first time in days. The Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione had all retired early, sleepy and befuddled, after consuming far too many of Molly’s mince pies and most of Sirius’ double-strength mulled wine and eggnog between them. Sirius had followed not long after, leaving Remus to clean up the empty glasses and plates. He charmed the pots to wash themselves and settled down at the kitchen table to read, enjoying the peace that had descended on the house.
The quiet didn’t last long, though. It wasn’t long until he heard a bump on the stairs and turned just in time to see Tonks slide to the bottom on her backside. He smiled, managing, he thought, to look both concerned and pleased to see her, which he was both, of course. Setting his book aside, he rose and helped her to her feet.
“Tonks, how are you?”
Tonks smiled ruefully up at him. “Sore bum, but apart from that I’m fine. Happy Christmas, Remus,” she said, reaching up and kissing him on the cheek.
Remus flushed deep pink. “It’s not Christmas yet,” he stammered, lightly touching her face and contemplating kissing her back. Her skin was soft and her slightly parted lips, so close to his, looked soft and warm and inviting. They gazed at each other for a long moment, and then Tonks suddenly turned away, breaking the moment, and took a seat at the kitchen table.
“Yeah, well, it nearly is. Only an hour or so to go.” She watched Remus as he turned to the washing up and guided the now dry pots to their correct homes within the kitchen. “I brought your Christmas present,” she said suddenly.
Remus turned to her with a smile. “You didn’t have to get me anything.” Tonks opened her mouth to protest, but Remus got there first. “But thank you,” he said gently.
Tonks smiled at him with a smile that he thought she saved just for him: a shy, girlish smile quite different to her usual wide grin.
“I have yours upstairs,” Remus continued. “Why don’t we get some mulled wine and open them in the drawing room?”
“Open them? It’s not Christmas yet.”
“It nearly is,” Remus said teasingly, and she looked at him again. Remus felt the now familiar warm feeling settle in his stomach, and he was smiling as he reached for two mugs.
Tiptoeing across the hall and up the stairs was a bit of a challenge, considering Tonks’ clumsiness, until Remus took her glass off her, but they made it to the drawing room without disturbing anyone. The softly twinkling fairy lights shone in Tonks’ eyes and set an appropriately romantic mood. They sat on the floor in front of the fire, and Tonks took a small, badly wrapped package from her pocket and gave it to him.
“You first,” she said excitedly.
“Alright,” he laughed, setting his glass down and sliding his fingers carefully under the paper and slowly unwrapping it.
“Oh come on!” Tonks exclaimed impatiently. “It’s not an impropriety to rip!”
Remus grinned and obediently tore the paper away. It was a jewellery box that, when opened, revealed a watch.
Remus wasn’t smiling anymore. With intent eyes and shaking fingers, he took the watch out and turned it over and there, on the back, were names:
Jacques Lupin
Jeremy Lupin
John Lupin
Romulus Lupin
Raphael Lupin
Remus Lupin
“My coming of age watch,” he croaked. “But I sold this. How on earth did you find it?”
“I just got lucky,” Tonks shrugged, watching him intently. “The bloke you sold it to must have died, or sold it on or something. I was just looking in an antique shop the other day and there it was. I knew I had to buy it for you; you’re its rightful owner.”
Remus’ eyes stung. He couldn’t quite believe that after seven years he once again held the heirloom that he had had to sell in order to pay the rent. It had broken his heart, and now Tonks had returned it to him.
“This is … This is …”
Tonks laid a gentle finger on his lips.
“I know.”
Remus had never wanted to kiss her more, but now, more than ever, he realised that she was far, far too good for him. Instead, he simply pulled her close, breathing in the scent of her hair one last time and holding her tightly, so that she knew just how grateful he was, and so that he could be this close to her, just once. They broke apart all too soon, and he sighed.
“It’s too much. I can’t … I have to pay you back.” Remus fumbled in his pocket, struggling more than necessary to find his money so that he had time to blink the tears away.
“It’s a present, Remus. Just accept it.” Tonks grinned and added: “And give me mine.”
“I can’t. I … didn’t get you one.” A brief look of hurt and confusion flashed across Tonks’ face, and then Remus corrected himself. “Well I did, but I can’t give it to you now. It’s like mud compared to all the gold in Gringotts; there’s no way it could compare.”
“It’ll be fine. It’s from you; it’ll be perfect.”
Tonks covered his hand with hers. Remus wished she’d look somewhere else.
“Well,” he said reluctantly, drawing her present out of his pocket. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Tonks smiled encouragingly at him, and ripped the paper off enthusiastically. She turned the pack of Exploding Snap cards over in her hands, a soft smile on her face.
“I told you it wasn’t much,” Remus stammered when she didn’t say anything. “I’ll take it back; I’ll find something better…”
“Don’t you dare!” Tonks said indignantly. “I love it! There’s meaning here.”
“Yes, but it doesn’t quite compare with the meaning of returning my coming-of-age watch to me.”
“I told you, it was just a lucky find and an impulsive buy. But you thought about how our relationship has developed almost entirely through games of Exploding Snap, and you thought about how my old pack has been slowly dying on us for several months, and so you got me a new pack, so that we can keep playing. It’s perfect.”
Remus gazed at her, wondering how she could possibly be satisfied with such a simple gift.
“Remus,” Tonks said suddenly. “Do you care about me?”
“O-of course I do,” said Remus, a little taken aback. “You’re one of my best frien-“
“No, I mean, do you care about me?”
For a long minute, Remus didn’t say anything. He was absolutely terrified of her proximity, and her voice, and her eyes; she was looking at him again. He swallowed, and his mouth worked furiously, but no sound came out. Eventually, he managed to squeak out one word.
“Yes.”
Tonks’ face split into a happy, happy smile. She took his hand again, and for a long time, they just sat there, saying nothing.
“Let’s play,” Tonks said, suddenly breaking the silence. She opened her new pack of cards and shuffled them.
“You want to play Exploding Snap now?”
“Why not? I know it’s not Wednesday, but we can always change to Exploding Snap Sundays instead.”
Tonks dealt the cards and turned one over. Remus shook his head in bemusement, tidied his pile, and turned the top one over. He flinched, expecting his cards to explode suddenly, but nothing happened.
“Oh, don’t be such a wuss!” Tonks laughed. “I’m sure they won’t really hurt you.”
As if to prove her wrong, Tonks’ untidy pile gave an almighty bang! and she disappeared in a cloud of smoke. Pieces of decimated cards floated down around them like snow as the two sat in shocked silence for a moment, then Tonks let out a peal of loud, unlady-like laughter in delight.
“Awesome!”
“Tonks!” Remus said sharply, coming to. “Your eyebrows are on fire!”
“What?” said Tonks, bewildered, then “Ouch!”
Remus lunged forwards, knocking her to the ground, and began (gently) beating out the flames on her forehead. There was a brief moment of confusion while they flailed at each other, a tangle of limbs on top of one another of the floor, then the flames were extinguished and they fell still, stunned and breathless, for a moment.
“Oops,” said Tonks sheepishly as her charred eyebrows re-grew themselves. “Bloody cards did that to spite me.”
“Sorry,” Remus apologised. “I didn’t intend that to happen when I bought them.”
“It’s OK.” Tonks’ laugh stilled, her eyes flickering over him. Her voice softened. “Believe me, it’s OK.”
Remus suddenly realised that he could feel her words on his face because he was lying on top of her, their bodies pressed together by his weight.
“Sorry,” he muttered, moving to get off her. He was stopped by Tonks clutching his shirt with both hands.
“It’s OK.” They lay, their breathing far heavier than it should have been, gazing at each other for a moment.
“Well?” Tonks said, breaking the silence.
“Well what?”
She huffed in his face.
“I think you know what.”
Remus swallowed. Did she really want that? Why on earth would she possibly want that? Remus pushed that thought away, and thought instead about the outcome of his conversation with Sirius the other day. Slowly, he lowered his face to hers.
It was a gentle kiss; hardly even a kiss at first. Tonks smiled against his lips, causing Remus to tentatively increase the pressure, and then more insistently as she kissed him back. It was soft, and sweet, and seemed to last both a brief second and a lifetime. Finally, Remus drew back slightly and looked into Tonks’ eyes. He became aware that the clock was chiming midnight, and smiled.
“Happy Christmas,” he breathed. Tonks laughed, and then he leant down to kiss her again.
A very happy Christmas indeed.