So This Is Romance...

[gilpins_tales]

Title: So This Is Romance…
Genre: Angst/Romance
Rating and Warnings: R (Not very fluffy romance or language at times)
Word Count: 10,130
Summary: War gets in the way of absolutely everything, or so it seems. Especially a rather complicated relationship...
Author’s Notes: Originally written for the Half Moon Rising Fic Jumble at metamorfic_moon in October 2006. I was given the following prompts - Genre: Romance; Thing: Veritaserum; Place: Ministry of Magic and Time: A Day of Discovery. It's set in May 1996, during OotP, approximately one month before the Battle at the Ministry.






So This Is Romance …

After only a few days of her company, it was obvious that Melvyn the Miscellaneous Office Worker had totally succumbed to the charms of Carmen the Junior Potions Mixer. Tonks thought it was just as well that he was only required to be overcome in a talkative and indiscreet fashion. Melvyn gave every indication of thinking that dying for the object of his desire would be the ultimate in romantic fantasies.

“Tea, Miss?” he asked hopefully, and tentatively placed the cup and his freckled hand in-between the various live and dead ingredients on her desk like a gift offering. It was only eleven o’clock and this was her fourth cup of the day. Yesterday she’d had at least ten, and spent most of it with her legs tightly crossed - rather wasting the incredibly sheer stockings - as this level of waiter service meant there was a permanent queue for the loo. The other staff had rarely had it so good, though if the looks they were currently shooting her from the opposite end of the long office were anything to go by, then they weren’t exactly bursting with gratitude.

“Thank you, Melvyn.” Tonks smiled at him, leaning forward slightly to give him the full benefit of three undone buttons and Carmen’s chest. She watched the flush start in the cheeks of his acne-pitted skin, his eyes drawn immediately downwards, and told herself again that this was the best and quickest way of doing what had to be done.

The fact that it was less than admirable was irrelevant.

Melvyn wiped his hand on the seat of his trousers and began to rock back and forth on the soles of his shoes, momentarily worrying Tonks that the lungful of Fathomless Perfume he’d just inhaled was about to make him keel over. She was reassured somewhat when his eyes were able to roam freely over the contents of the desk - while always flickering back to her - in a clear attempt to find an excuse for some more lingering.

“Can I get you anything else, Miss?” His round face was alight with determination to be of assistance. “Pomegranates? Glumbumble parts? Wormwood, armadillo bile or leeches?”

Now that was an offer guaranteed to turn any girl’s heart over, but it was also the ideal opportunity to get a break from making anti-wrinkle face potions all day long, and accompany him downstairs to the store cupboard for some gossipy one-to-one time. Tonks forced her glossy, plum-coloured lips to part and smile sweetly, while thinking she should remember that line to tell Sirius over dinner this evening. Except that it was becoming increasingly hard to both amuse him and take the mick out of Melvyn with a clear conscience.

She stared at her long nails critically - the bits of dried Horned Slugs stuck in them rather added to Carmen’s look - and told herself savagely to snap out of this. All right, she was missing Remus, but he’d be back in a day or so, they’d got a weekend off together for once to look forward to, and then this would all seem like nothing but a harsh necessity of the times.

She ran the tip of her tongue deliberately over her top lip and looked at Melvyn.

“Some Lovage would be ever so helpful,” she said, in Carmen’s annoyingly breathy voice, and flicked her hair back over her shoulder.

Melvyn’s pale blue eyes opened very wide, as did his mouth, but before he could say anything Madam Primpernelle’s ample figure and shrewd eyes were bearing down on them both.

“Stop loitering in the potion room, Melvyn,” she snapped, her less than complimentary glance at Tonks making it quite clear who she blamed for any loitering, with or without intent. “You’re supposed to be book-keeping, not gossiping, so I suggest you get back to it.”

Melvyn, who’d wisely started backing away as soon as she appeared, disappeared through the nearest doorway. Tonks silently cursed another missed opportunity, and picked up more dried slugs to crush as she smiled artlessly at her employer.

Madame Primpernelle’s critical eye was on the potion bubbling quietly away in the brass cauldron, but there was no fault to find with the mother-of-pearl sheen and the wispy puffs of smoke gently spiralling into the air. She was reduced to saying through tight lips: “There’s an owl arrived with an urgent message for you.”

Tonks didn’t have to stimulate surprise. “Urgent?” she said, wiping a filthy hand quickly, and as she did so the door sprung open again and Melvyn’s shiny face peered round it.

“The thing is, Miss,” he grinned at her, proud of the line he’d obviously been working on, “looking the way you do, you’d always get plenty of Lovage!”

“Out!” The owner of Knockturn Alley’s recently opened Heath and Beauty Salon spoke in a voice that left no room for argument, and swung round on Tonks the minute he disappeared again. “You shouldn’t be encouraging him, not when you’ve got a boyfriend. It might be amusing for you, but he’ll ge-” She broke off, abruptly. “What’s the matter? Is there something wrong?”

“Yes. There is.” Tonks passed the note to her, her hand shaking slightly. “It’s my brother. He’s been taken ill.” She forced her anger into something more like understandable concern. “I’ll have to go at once, I’m afraid.”

“Yes, of course.” Madame Primpernelle’s tone changed completely, as her eyes scanned the words which said a fictional brother had caught vanishing sickness. Tonks could only think of the repeated code words, highly contagious, which told her the whole mission had been aborted in the blink of one of Carmen’s heavily made-up eyes.

What the hell had gone wrong?

“I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?” To give the woman her due, she did look genuinely concerned which, considering she must have wanted to strangle Tonks several times over in recent days, was greatly to her credit. “Is this your boyfriend who says he’s coming to pick you up? You certainly don’t want to be going to St Mungo’s alone after a shock like this.”

“No.” Tonks reached for her bag, and ran her hand distractedly through her blonde hair, remembering too late that her hand was still far from clean. “It’s my Uncle Alastor. My boyfriend’s away at present, he has to travel a lot with his job. I’m sorry about the potion…”

“Don’t worry about that, dear. I just hope your brother is all right.”

Madame Primpernelle looked sympathetically at her in a way that made Tonks feel about an inch high, and manage only the weakest of smiles in response. She ran down the steps on her way out to Knockturn Alley, cursing as she went. Four sodding days of precious annual leave given up for nothing. Should she have pushed Melvyn sooner and harder? He was definitely a boy with secrets, though she doubted it was anything serious.

It probably hadn’t helped her cause, telling him she had a boyfriend. But Madame Primpernelle, who was a clever woman and had met a Carmen or two in her time - indeed, she might even have been a Carmen herself once - had chosen her moment and her audience very carefully to ask her straight-out. Tonks was prepared to deny her appearance and her very nature for the sake of the Order, but she was never going to deny Remus to anyone.

Besides, she wanted to talk about him, and there were so few times and so few harmless listeners. She wanted to grin like an idiot at the thought of him. And she wanted to tell him what she’d been putting off telling him for far too long now.

She shook her head, vaulted down the last five steps, and remembered her high heels in mid-air. She just grabbed the hand rail in time as she landed with a wince, and told herself she had more than enough things to think about till she saw Remus again. Mad-Eye’s magical eye was likely to jam in its socket when he saw her in this get-up, but she’d have to stay in it in case anyone was watching her leave. A really perfect end to a crap morning.

At least it would be something else to recount later tonight to make Sirius laugh, because keeping him happy seemed to be very much the name of the game at the moment.

She saw the shadow waiting for her in the darkness of the alleyway and cursed again. This shouldn’t have gone wrong, and she certainly should be able to pull this skirt down to somewhere near her knees. Or even her thighs. Oh, to be through the next five minutes of her making stupid, embarrassed jokes, and Mad-Eye gruffly talking about procedural changes to security regulations while carefully not looking at her.

“Walnut Whips,” she whispered softly, pausing with her hand lightly on the wall, and watched with a suddenly thumping heart as a tall shadow detached itself from the gloom in response.

“And Jaffa Cakes to you, too,” said an amused voice in return.

Tonks always wondered why time seemed to slow down in these instances, as though it had a perverse desire to relish truly horrifying moments. So it was in this case, as she fought the desire to close her eyes and disappear silently into the cobbles while Remus stepped calmly into the light, the familiar smile curling his lips, only to pull up abruptly at the sight of her.

It was a toss-up, Tonks thought grimly afterwards, when back in her cold, silent flat, as to who’d been the more shocked. Whether it was her, whose mouth had gaped open immediately as every appalled thought was reflected on her face; or him, whose expression slowly hardened into a frozen mask of intimidating politeness.

She did remember the pink rose bud in his hand. He’d still given it her, of course, but she'd left it too long before putting it in water and the petals had started to curl and brown at the edges.

Dinner was always fun when the host alternated between laughing too loudly at everything, and then being positively morose with little or no warning. Meanwhile his friend, who could normally be relied upon to chivvy him out of both moods, seemed more occupied with fingering the stem of his goblet in a distracted and silent manner.

Of course, it didn’t help when the topic of conversation centred on obtaining information from a rather pathetic adolescent boy, who was currently in one of the holding cells at the Ministry. With a staggering degree of sensitivity, they’d put him next to a notorious murderer who was awaiting transfer to Azkaban. Tonks thought Melvyn would probably be incapable of either speech or thought by morning.

“How you going to do it then?” asked Sirius, with both relish and envy, looking from her to Remus, who was still apparently transfixed by his goblet, and then back at her again.

“Veritaserum,” Tonks said matter-of-factly. “We can’t afford to mess around. If Kingsley hadn’t got wind of what was happening, and let Mad-Eye know, I’d have been sat there when they arrested him.” She smiled, entirely without humour. “Poor Madame Primpernelle, she’s lived down her own shady past to get this business going, and now her own staff are dragging her down again.”

Sirius grinned. “Reminds me of that old joke - how can you tell a woman’s history? By looking at her geography, of course.” He laughed in a way that set Tonks’ teeth on edge, looked across again at Remus, and shrugged. “So when are you going to see him?”

“Tonight. There’s an interview scheduled for first thing in the morning. Kingsley managed to get hold of the guard rota and the first shift is going to be taken by Fitzgibbon, well known for his dedication to duty and his love of money. Can’t wait to hear how much of an honest bribe he’ll need to look the other way.”

Sirius cocked a black eyebrow at her.

“Such disillusionment, young Tonks?” What looked like bitter lines of his own appeared on his face. “Surely you don’t still imagine that the good guys are all pure of heart and soul, while the bad ones have ‘villain’ stamped on their forehead and you get to hiss at them in disgust as they walk by?”

“The guards told Kingsley that Melvyn’s terrified. Scared out of his tiny little wits,” said Tonks. She laid her knife and fork down on the plate of her barely touched dinner. “They laughed about it, because it’ll make him easy to break. And this is all because he simply happens to have, for a very, very short while, made the tea and sorted the post in a department at the Ministry where the now notorious Simeon Darrowby once did.”

“Yes, but that’s what put us onto him, isn’t it? He’s the only one the Ministry never checked out, precisely because he isn’t worth a second glance. The pity is they’ve suddenly caught onto him now.” Sirius had switched to being reasonable and logical, which Tonks found equally disquieting because she knew it wouldn’t last. “The trouble is there’s no proof that Simeon was either a spy at the Ministry for Voldemort, or just a really nasty piece of work on his own account. Your terrified lad is our last chance of finding out one way or another.” He stopped and wrinkled his brow, looking at Remus. “And some of us are just on the edge of our seats with excitement at it all.”

Remus, who for once had drunk more than Sirius at the table, had finally raised his head and was staring at her. “When we get in there, it would probably reassure him if you were disguised as …”

His voice trailed away.

“As Carmen?” Tonks met his eyes with an effort, her heart thumping painfully, and a solid lump of both anger and fear lodged in her throat. “Is that really a good idea? She seems to give a few people around here the odd nightmare.”

“Perhaps you should consider the possibility that it isn’t me she gives nightmares to,” he said quietly, a slight flush appearing on his cheeks.

Somehow his very quietness was the light to Tonks’ tinder. She’d never quarrelled with Remus, never even imagined she would, but then nor had she ever imagined struggling through a dinner with both of them scratching around for something to say.

“You’re a fine one to talk,” she said, acidly, “when you won’t look me in the eye for at least the first hour on the morning after a transformation.”

The tiny flinch he gave was only discernable because she knew him, and she instantly wanted to take her words back unspoken, and yet say something even worse at the same time.

Anything to make him feel the same muddle of emotion that she did.

“I’m sor-” she began, at the same time as he said: “Tonks, plea-” but a louder voice overrode them both.

“Right.” Sirius had his hand held up, and was looking at them with an amused but irritated air. “Much as I loved it when you two were carrying on those exhausting courtship rituals that drove everyone nuts, and caused the most complicated sweepstake ever known to man or woman, I did think I’d seen the end of all this. But no! It’s welcome back to those endless fraught looks at each other, and those excruciating meaningful silences full of sexual tension that make me want to smack the pair of you round the head. For the love of Merlin, just sort it out!”

There was a fairly fraught, meaningful silence. Tonks, risking a quick, sideways glance at Remus and seeing the slight curl of his lips, thought the excruciating sexual tension was definitely still there. In spades.

“Courtship rituals?” Remus said it calmly. Dryly. In typical Remus-like fashion.

“Like a pair of bleeding Nifflers.” Sirius nodded. “Very shy and timid, but absolutely fixated on something shiny and irresistible. It was quite pathetic to watch.”

“Thank you.” Remus looked across at Tonks. Your turn, the look said.

She cleared her throat. “Who did win the sweepstake in the end? You never said.”

“Mad-Eye. Of course, he could see through walls so I wanted the bastard disqualified for an unfair advantage. Though I nearly caught Molly using the Extendable Ears once; she swore she was putting them in a drawer, but it seemed to be one mighty close to the door you two were behind. Anyway, you don’t need to fret - I saved her from hearing stuff that would have made her pass out with boredom.”

“Thanks.” Tonks allowed herself the smallest of grins.

“Okay.” Sirius scraped his chair back noisily and stood up. “I suppose this is where I make myself scarce in my own home and leave you two to it. But you,” he pointed at Remus, “should know that she’s been about as much fun as a flobberworm waiting for you to come back, and you,” he pointed at Tonks, “should know that he raced back here, and barely managed to speak two words to either me or Mad-Eye before rushing off to meet you.”

He broke off and looked at her, surprised as she was standing up as well.

“No, I’m going first.” She felt Remus’ eyes on her, and said, hurriedly, “We’ve got to get to the Ministry soon, and I need the loo! Don’t worry, I’ll be back to do my best flobberworm impression.”

“Well that’s every male’s ultimate fantasy so we’ll definitely hang around and wait for you.” Siruis slapped Remus on the shoulder, murmured something in the general direction of his ear which sounded suspiciously like, “You should have pulled Trelawney, mate,” and went over to the drinks cupboard. “No doing a Molly on us, though. Eavesdroppers never hear what they want to.”

“Who’d want to listen to you two?” Tonks paused with her hand on the door, trying to indignantly look as if she hadn’t already thought about it, although the initial impulse had just been to get her thoughts and head together. “And I will only be a minute.”

Indeed, she was only a minute or so in the loo, and then another one inching her way slowly and carefully back down the staircase, managing, with the aid of a couple of spells, to negotiate the creaky floorboards and dodge underneath the stuffed elf heads in what seemed like complete silence.

I shouldn’t do this, she thought, briefly hesitating outside the door, and then did it anyway.

“As I keep repeating, you’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to discuss this,” Remus was saying, in calm but patient tones, which must have irritated Sirius as much as it did eavesdroppers desperate for information.

“All right, be a tight-mouthed git, as usual.” There was a clink as presumably bottles or goblets were put on the table. “I’ll discuss it, and you can give me death stares, and I’ll correctly interpret the pained silence and your body language. And that’s not a nice gesture for a start.”

“Well at least you’ve correctly interpreted it.” Remus gave what sounded like a humourless chuckle, and then sighed audibly. “Do you remember that night I planned to take Tonks out to dinner at that restaurant she’d been going on about?”

“Wasn’t that the night-”

“Yes, that was the night she got called out to that murdered Muggle family. Some nutcase had decided to do a sacrifice to Voldemort to express his devotion.” Remus suddenly sounded very tired. “Two parents, one child and the family cat. It rather took the edge off the idea of tiramisu.”

“I don’t get-”

“This damn war gets in the way all the time. Every time. If I had a job and some money I could take her away somewhere, but, thanks to Umbridge, there’s no chance of that. I’ve spent a fruitless week trying to get support for the Order from people who have been threatened with all sorts and are frightened to even open their doors now. Let alone to invite a werewolf in for a cosy chat. I feel as if doors are shutting on any future I could offer Tonks, too. And I’ve only got this weekend here, and then Dumbledore wants me somewhere else, trying again.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re not spending your nights with her. Merlin, you’ve been going out what - three or four months, or even longer now? What the hell are you messing about at?”

Tonks felt her cheeks burn as she craned to hear. But Remus said nothing and it was Sirius who spoke again.

“All right, I’m out of bounds with that one, and I’ve got an overwhelming need to go and get pissed anyway. But I’ll give you something to chew over. I never got why James married so young, never understood why he’d want to saddle himself with a wife and then a kid. I never said anything, but one day he told me he did it because he’d discovered what the most important thing was to him and then nothing else mattered. Now I still think he was an idiot,” Sirius’ voice was suddenly a lot nearer, and Tonks hastily put her hand on the handle to turn it, “but when I see Harry, I realise I’m a bigger one. And you’re well on the way to being the biggest of us all because you haven’t discovered anything at all yet. Shall I let Tonks in? Poor girl must be getting cold out there.”

“Leave her alone. She’s probably gone to sleep listening to you lecturing me.”

Tonks came in swiftly at that, with as much dignity as she could muster, and gave Sirius a pointed look. “Leaving so soon?”

“Yeah, must fly. I can’t bear to watch two Nifflers fumbling around again.” Sirius ruffled her hair before she could stop him, and roared with laughter as she smacked his hand away.

The door closed behind him and she turned to face Remus, who was watching her with a small smile on his face.

“Wotcher,” she said, after a pause, trying to suppress a grin as she realised that, yet again, they were in danger of having a meaningful silence.

“Hello.” He got up and walked towards her. She felt her heart start to thump. “How much did you hear?”

“Probably not enough. And we haven’t solved anything,” she added, watching as he took his wand out and Imperturbed the door. “Not what happened today,” she paused again as he added a Muffliato in case Kreacher was lurking, “or what’s going to happen in the future.”

“I know.” He was stood in front of her now, very close, and it was so hard to meet his blue eyes but even harder to look away.

“And we’ve got to go out in about twenty minutes and do something I’m dreading.”

“I know.” He reached out and the backs of his long fingers touched her cheek in a gesture so soft, so comforting, and she leant into his warm hand as he stroked her skin down to her jawbone.

“None of this is about your face, Tonks, or the body you have to wear for a job,” he said, very quietly, but very clearly. “It’s a lovely face but there’s a lot more to you than that. And mine changes too, so I do understand. It was you I saw today, not Carmen. It’s always you I see.”

She laid her head against his hard collarbone, feeling the same sense of haven that had been there the first time he’d held her. “It’s just that, this morning-”

“Yes?”

She groped for honesty, wrapping her arms around him, breathing in his reassuring warmth and smell. “It’s just that - you wouldn’t want your other half to ever see you in curlers, or with a fake chest shoved up under your chin. Not for at least the first six months, anyway.”

She felt him shake with suppressed laughter, his arms tightening around her.

“I want us to be perfect because everything else isn’t,” she said finally, raising her head and marvelling, as she always did, at how he could look at her like that.

“So do I,” he whispered, and bent his head and kissed her.

It was gentle, as it always was when they’d been apart; as though he was asking her if she still felt the same. And she always thought that here was her opportunity to tell him how she felt, so he wouldn’t have to do this. But while she was hesitating, he was deepening the kiss, and her arms were winding round his neck and her fingers were twisting through his hair.

“You fool,” he said, against her mouth.

“Yes.” She bit his lower lip gently. “You are too.”

“And me too.” He smiled at her and touched her face again. “Nymphadora, you’re not really going to answer the door to me in curlers after six mon-”

She kissed him, forcing back the words; half laughing, half furious and wholly conscious, as she held him fiercely, of time running away from them again as it always did. His hands slid down her back to her hips, and then he picked her up and took her over to the sofa, and they collapsed on it in a wild heap.

She was dimly aware of a faint rapping noise, and then a familiar voice saying: “Don’t mind me!” As Remus lifted his head, she glimpsed Sirius over his shoulder, peering round the door, and aiming his wand at the bottle in the middle of table.

He pretended to shield his eyes and then peeped through his fingers at them, with the widest of grins on his face. “Really impressed by the way, Moony. In the kitchen! Thought you’d still be at the hand holding and wistful glances stage.”

“Out!” Remus sounded distinctly like Madame Primpernelle, and Tonks was laughing as she pulled him down again, and the door was shut with a resounding bang that cut the final chuckle short.

“Yes,” said Tonks, as he kissed her again. “In the kitchen!” She laughed and felt a surge of over-whelming love for this man go through her. She opened her mouth to tell him as his lips found her neck, and she turned her head towards his ear, only to have her eye caught by the large patch of green mould on the ceiling.

She’d seen it before, of course, but now it seemed like some strange, malevolent creature, staring down at them.

Idiot, she told herself furiously. Now you don’t want to tell him you love him because there’s a patch of damp above your head. This is real life, not some soppy romance novel. You don’t have to pick a perfect moment; they don’t exist in these times.

His mouth was on hers again, and the opportunity had gone like so many others before as all coherent thought faded. She kissed his hair, his eyes, his nose and his mouth, and felt his heart beating against hers.

Just give us that moment, she thought. Just one…

They walked into the Ministry of Magic with the minimum of fuss, mainly because instead of Eric, the usual security wizard, a grinning Kingsley was sat at the desk waiting for them.

“Wands,” he grunted at them, folding up the newspaper he’d been reading, and doing a good impression of Eric’s customary greeting to visitors.

“Yes, we’ve got them, thanks. And you’re certainly not getting your hands on them.” Tonks looked at him. “How long have we got, and who’s in the building?”

“About an hour till Eric comes round,” Kingsley looked thoughtfully at his watch, “and fortunately hardly anyone’s left. Percy Weasley hasn’t checked out, he must be doing his normal overtime stint, but I don’t suppose you’re planning a sight-seeing trip around his department, are you?”

“No, but I want to pop up to ours.” Tonks felt Remus’ eyes on her, because she hadn’t said anything on the way over, but then the idea had only just come to her. “There’s no one up there, is there?”

“No, they’ve all gone.” Kingsley was looking at her curiously as well. “You won’t be long though, will you? Some of us haven’t had any dinner. And I don’t want anyone unexpected nipping back tonight because they’ve forgotten something.”

“Five minutes,” Tonks promised. “And I don’t think either of us wants to spend longer with Melvyn than is necessary.”

“No.” Kingsley frowned, and picked up his paper again. “Poor kid. Seems just the sort to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Anyway, don’t hang around.” He grinned and leant back in his chair, putting his long legs and elegant brown shoes on the table. At another time Tonks would have found this funny, because dour, humourless Eric would have had an absolute fit if he’d seen it, but all she could manage was a nod and a tight smile, leaving it to Remus to say something which made Kingsley laugh.

“Is there something you want to get?” Remus asked when they were in the lift and on their way to level two. He was leaning back in the corner, watching her.

Tonks listened to the female voice announcing they’d reached their destination, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks. “I just want to-” she broke off, giving herself time, while the golden grille door opened and they both stepped out. She turned to look at him. “I thought you might like to see my desk. Do you mind?”

“No, I-” She’d never seen Remus taken aback before, nor had she ever seen the expression that flickered across his face.

“I’d love to see where you work,” he said at last. “I really would.”

She smiled and ducked her head down, still feeling oddly shy. She led him through the heavy oak doors and into the open area divided into cubicles. They stopped briefly at Kingsley’s desk, and Remus frowned at all the newspaper cuttings and old photographs of Sirius lining the walls, while she wondered if this were a very bad move on her part.

They walked towards the corner cubicle, chosen by her because it was near the window and you had a good view of everyone else. She pointed out the doors you went through to reach Arthur’s office.

“Well, this is it.” She gestured with her hand, and immediately wished she’d left it tidier. The in-tray was over-flowing with four days worth of memos, which didn’t help. “These are all the Auror Manuals - Mad-Eye wrote half of them. All the pictures are the Weird Sisters and other groups I like. Kingsley gave me the one of Sirius at the Potters' wedding, because I wanted a nice picture of him and it’s the only one, really.” She stopped, trying to see it all through Remus’ eyes, swallowed, and then went on.

“That’s the plant Molly gave me, which shouts abuse at me when I don’t remember to water it. Those are my many, many quills because I’m always losing them. That’s the Muggle straw donkey I brought back from a holiday abroad because I thought it was such a laugh. In my drawers,” she pointed at the bottom one, “well, that one’s my emergency chocolate stash, for when I’m having a really bad day. And this one-”

She broke off. He’d been standing slightly behind her so she couldn’t see his expression, and now his arm came round her waist, pulling her gently back against him.

“And this?” He’d picked up the black photo frame and was holding it in front of her. He ducked his head down and rested his chin on her shoulder, his cheek against hers.

She swallowed again. “I wanted one of us.”

Only it wasn’t, not really. Unlike every other Auror who could display a picture of their loved one without fear of awkward questions, there was no way she could put a photo of a rather well-known werewolf on the corner of hers. This one had been taken ages ago at the Weasleys', when they’d known each other for only a few weeks of politely (and not so politely) exchanged words, and had been invited to Sunday lunch. Arthur had arrived home late, infuriating Molly, and Bill had taken a shot of them arguing; in the background Remus was just visible head down, apparently engrossed in reading the newspaper, and Tonks, trying hard not to laugh at it all, was next to him on the sofa. As Molly shook her dripping gravy spoon at Arthur in exasperation, splattering it everywhere, Remus raised his head and smiled straight at Tonks.

It had been a small, intimate, simply devastating smile. Changing both his face and the way she saw him forever. She could still remember the jolt it had given her, and how she’d spent hours afterwards trying to work out why it had.

Remus replaced the photo carefully. “Do you think we look like a couple of Nifflers in that one?”

She eyed him sideways through her hair. “I wasn’t even sure you liked me then.”

“I’ve always liked you. Far too much.” He kissed her temple, resting his face against hers for a minute, and sighed. “We have to go.”

She felt her smile fade. “Yes, we do.”

He looked at her as they made their way back towards the lift, her hand resting lightly in his. “Thank you for showing me that.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He nodded, squeezed her hand, and then his face took on a far grimmer look, which, no doubt, reflected hers.

Fitzgibbon, a small, ginger-haired man, with odd tufts of white in his wiry hair, was waiting for them as they came down the final staircase which led to the dungeons and the old courtroom where they’d held Harry’s hearing. Tonks thought he resembled a ferret even more than normal.

“Hope you don’t mind having your ears blasted by the pair of ‘em,” he said, as he led them down a windowless corridor, further into the gloom. “What with one hollering all kinds of threats, and the other crying for his mum for hours on end - fair does your head in, having to listen to it all.”

“That must be tough.” Tonks didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm. But Fitzgibbon took her words at face value.

“Yeah, they don’t pay me enough for this. Well,” he grinned, showing little pointed teeth, the bottom row more prominent than the top, “I’ve done all right today, of course. Better than expected, you might say. And I’m good at doing the old self-Muffliato so I can have a bit of shut-eye from all the racket. You don’t need to worry about me, if you need to make him yell the place down.”

Remus touched her arm, effectively stopping her from saying what she was going to. “Where is he?” he asked, evenly.

“That one, one from the end.” Fitzgibbon pointed. “Cell seven three seven. Don’t go near the one after it, not unless you want to meet Akira the Don, as he calls himself. Cocky bastard won’t be so lively when the Dementors have got hold of him tomorrow. Oh, and you’ll need this.”

He passed Remus a small key. “And don’t undo his hobbles, whatever you do.”

“What hobbles?” Tonks stared at him. “He’s not a high security prisoner.”

“Yeah, well, he don’t look like it to me either, love.” Fitzgibbon snorted. “Fudge’s orders. He’s tightening everything up around here, and shipping more and more out to Azkaban. Getting worried about his own job, if you ask me. You must have heard the rumours. Hey!” He’d been backing away from them as he spoke, towards the small guard’s room in the corner, but now he paused, looking anxious. “Don’t forget, I’ll need a Memory Charm. I don’t want to remember anything about this, do I?”

“You won’t.” Remus’ tone was curt. “We’ll see you shortly.”

“Right you are.” Fitzgibbon nodded to him cheerfully, and disappeared.

Tonks leant her head against the side of the cold black wall. “All the office gossip says Scrimgeour would just love to get his scrawny backside in Fudge’s chair. And that Fudge will do anything to cling onto it.”

“Yes.” Remus looked around and took the bottle of Veritaserum out of his pocket.

“I used to love coming to work here. I couldn’t wait to get to my desk each day. It’s all I ever wanted to do.”

“I know.” He walked over to the water fountain and filled a goblet. He poured three precise drops from the bottle into it. “There’s still good people here, doing a good job. Not everyone is like Fudge, or that guard. You know that, Dora.”

“It gets hard to remember, sometimes. Everything seems a bit murky at the moment.” She straightened up, cross with herself for moaning when he so rarely did. “Anyway,” she forced some levity into her voice, “talking of murky, brace yourself for the blonde bombshell.”

She concentrated and screwed up her eyes, visualising Carmen’s wide lips, the knowing expression, the slight, sensual gap between her two front teeth and the long curtain of hair that fell forward over one eye, allowing her numerous opportunities to flick it casually back in a pale golden cloud. This time, there was a distinct lack of care as she chucked it over one shoulder to get it out the way. Bloody Carmen wouldn’t be seen dead in Tonks’ top and jeans, but she wasn’t going to mess around with them either.

“Do you think Melvyn will notice that Carmen’s lost some of her chest?” She turned towards Remus, thinking it was still easier to joke than meet his eyes looking like this. Ridiculous, really, when he’d seen her as everything from an old lady to a typical mum-like figure, with everyone’s favourite aunt thrown in for good measure, yet she still didn’t want him to see her as this sexy piece of work.

She didn’t want to wonder if he found Carmen more attractive than her.

He’d put the goblet and potion down, and was looking at her.

“Wotcher, Nymphadora,” he said.

“Why you-”

He laughed. “Still you, then.” He ran the backs of his fingers lightly down her cheek. “Only you’d sound that stroppy.”

She started to laugh herself then, a weight suddenly lifting from her, except it was drowned out by a roar from the cell at the end. They both spun round and listened to the words, and then the deranged taunting that followed.

“I’m not sure that’s anatomically possible.” Tonks drew her wand. “Give me a minute. I like putting mad bastards in their place.”

“No, you need to see Melvyn.” He’d stepped in front of her and handed her the goblet, along with the key, and nodded firmly at the nearest cell. “You should see him on your own first, anyway, and try and get his confidence. I’m going to have a quick chat with our loud friend.”

He turned on his heel before she had time to argue, and she had to admit that she could see the sense of it.

Except it meant she had to see Melvyn.

She could hear the faint whimpering as she slid the key in the lock, and knew what she’d see and smell when she stepped inside. He was lying on his side in the corner of the cell, his wrists bound in front of him with silver cords; his shoulders, indeed his whole body, shaking in silent, fearful sobs.

She placed the goblet and down carefully on the floor, and knelt down next to him.

“Melvyn?”

He flinched and rolled his head to look at her, the pale blue eyes fearful and beseeching under the mop of hair.

“Melvyn.” She touched his shoulder lightly and smiled at him.

“C-C-Carmen?” He looked at her in bewilderment.

“Yes.” She switched to sounding brisk and matter-of-fact. “Come on. Let’s get you sat up.”

“What’s happening?” He let her help him into a sitting position in the corner. There were stains down his front that looked like vomit. “W-What are you doing here?”

She frowned at the tight cords, which were cutting painfully into the plump, freckled flesh of his wrists. She flicked her wand and loosened them. He was indeed hobbled, and she loosened them too, because his ankles must be in the same sorry state.

“Carmen?” He was looking at her with eyes that were starting to shine, and she realised exactly what he was thinking, and that she’d have to crush that straight away.

“I work here, Melvyn, and you’re in trouble, I’m afraid. A friend and I need to talk to you.”

“But-” The bewildered look was back. “You haven’t come to ge-”

“No.” She cut him off and rose to her feet, dusting her knees. “We need to talk to you. Try and sort things out a bit.”

He stared at her, tear stains clearly visible on his cheeks. “Are you going to sort out that man next door too? Only he’s threatened to cut me into bits, said he’d gut me like a fish while I sleep.” He swallowed convulsively, and she saw his bound hands shaking. “He knows you’re here, too, I heard him just now shouting about a whore and what he’d do to her. I can hear him all the time in my head, he never stops.”

“You can’t hear him now, can you? My friend’s very persuasive.” Tonks nodded encouragingly, thanking Merlin the chanting had stopped, and glanced round the small cell, wondering if they’d held Sturgis Podmore in this same soulless, airless place before they’d sent him to Azkaban.

“How do you work here if you work at Madame Primpernelle’s?” The pale blue eyes were puzzled. “And why am I here? I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“Look I haven’t got time for a lot of explanations, Melvyn, you’re going to have to trust me. We want to help you, and the only way to do that is to tell us the truth about something.” Tonks smiled, feeling it to be every bit as counterfeit as when Carmen had used it before, and picked up the goblet. “You must be thirsty.”

“I want to go home. Please take me home, Miss.”

Tonks thought of how she’d like to be anywhere but here, doing this. It was a relief when Remus walked into the cell, his wand in his hand.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes.” His lips curled humourlessly. “An acute attack of laryngitis was always likely with all that shouting.”

“And?”

“And he won’t feel much like partying in the morning, either.” He looked at her evenly for a moment, and then at Melvyn. “Hello.”

“Hello.” Pale blue eyes and ones of a much deeper hue looked at each other with what seemed like a similar degree of interest. “Are you going to get me out of here?”

“We’re going to ask you some questions that should hopefully lead to that eventuality,” Remus said calmly, an attitude that seemed to reassure Melvyn as he blinked at him, looking slightly more alert. “And those questions are all about when you worked here, at the Ministry. With Simeon Darrowby.”

“Simeon…” Melvyn shrugged. “I didn’t like him much. He always moaned I put too much milk in his tea.” He looked at Tonks and then back at Remus. “Are you her boyfriend?”

“Yes, I am.” Remus answered without hesitation, and Tonks, who’d fully expected him to deny it, because apart from anything else it made sense if they were playing Carmen as the sympathy card, was hard put not to gape at him.

It must be purely her imagination that he’d sounded slightly smug when he said it.

“Thought so.” Melvyn wiped his bound hands across his nose. He looked at Tonks again and sniffed. “Why were you bothering with me then, Miss? Aren’t you happy with him? If you were just playing with me, then you’re as bad as the people who’ve put me here, and you should be ashamed. You should have been honest.”

“Melvyn, you don’t quite und-” Remus started, but Tonks, feeling the guilt clawing at her stomach, cut him off.

“You’re right.” She looked at Melvyn, sat in a pathetic heap on the floor, in a cell that stank of urine and many things, but mostly fear. “I needed to get to know you quickly to ask you these questions. It’s part of my job. But I’m very sorry if I’ve hurt your feelings because I didn’t mean to.”

The pale blue eyes were still fixed on her, with a look in them she couldn’t quite fathom. “So you’re happy then?”

“Yes, I’m ve-” Tonks was going to simply agree with him to get him off the subject, but stopped as another thought unexpectedly came into her head and, even more unexpectedly, refused to let go of her. It was going to be very strange to make this declaration at this time, in this setting, with this petrified boy as the only witness, when she’d waited so long to say it at the best of times. And this was so very far from being that.

Still, why not?

Saying it at the best of times was easy. Saying it now made it real.

“I love him,” she said clearly to Melvyn, but her eyes went straight over him to the man who was staring at her.

His eyes seemed to burn into hers and she suddenly knew that any time would have been the right time to say it. He didn’t move a muscle or say a word, but she knew. She could have been sixty feet away from him, not six, and she’d still have known.

It didn’t even matter that she had Carmen’s face on.

“You look like that girl who worked here when I worked with Simeon.” Melvyn, on the floor at their feet, seemed to be conducting a conversation with himself. “I kept dreaming about her, but she just laughed at me. Girls always laugh at me. Perhaps they picked you because they thought I’d fancy you because you were like her. I expect people like you do lots of checking up. Can I have that drink now, Miss? I expect you’ve put Veritaserum in it to make me talk, haven’t you?”

Tonks felt a finger of ice touch her spine. Remus’ head snapped round.

“Have you had Veritaserum before, Melvyn?” he asked quietly.

“Hmm?” The round face squinted up at him. “Simeon made me have some once, he said it was a test as he needed someone trustworthy. But he disappeared the next day so I don’t know what he wanted me to do. I probably wouldn’t have done it, I didn’t like him. I only do things for people I like. And I hated that stuff, it’s like a vice in your head, twisting it till you say everything you’d hate people to know.” He giggled. “Like Simeon knows I’ve never kissed a girl, and what books I like to look at when I’m on my own.”

Oh God, thought Tonks. He’s not innocent. He’s not…

Melvyn giggled again. Tonks thought the expression she’d been trying to recognise before was one of cunning, the totally unexpected cunning of the utterly simple. “I mean,” he said, looking directly at Remus, “do you tell her the whole truth? Do you trust her with your deepest secrets? Would you drink it and tell her everything about you?”

Remus looked at him for a long moment, then at his watch, before turning to Tonks.

“I’m going to try Legilimency first,” he said. “You’ll have to help me.”

Tonks always hesitated about asking Remus back to her flat late at night because, again, it never seemed to be the right time or one of them had had a rough day. Or was likely to have one to look forward to in the morning. And when he did come in, it always resulted in him dragging himself away an hour or so later, a look on his face that suggested he was far from being content with this.

It didn’t do her any good either.

She knew something had changed, but she thought it was up to him now. So as to put off the moment when one of them would have to say something about it, she asked him the question she’d already voiced once.

“Did we do the right thing by Melvyn? I’d like to think we gave him a chance, at least.”

Remus, who’d stopped on the steps behind her - and a lot closer to her than she’d realised - shrugged slightly.

“I’d like to think so, too. That Memory Charm you’ve done on him has eradicated the fact that he would have considered doing whatever it was Simeon wanted. And, as he said, he didn’t like Simeon, so by his reasoning was unlikely to have done it anyway. They’ve no reason to hold him that I can see.”

“Yes, but-” Tonks shivered.

“Yes.” Remus smiled grimly. “I don’t know, either. When he was lecturing me about honesty and standing up to people there was a moment when he reminded me of Neville Longbottom, and after that there were definitely moments when he reminded me of Peter Pettigrew. If he gets in with the wrong crowd, well …”

“But we had to give him the chance,” said Tonks firmly.

“Dumbledore would have.” Remus looked at her. “He always gives people a chance. Anyway,” he leaned his shoulders back against the jamb of the door with his arms folded, “I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough of Melvyn for one night, and the fact that we’ve gained next to nothing from it all. There are a few other things I’d like to discuss, that we never normally have time for.”

“There are?” Tonks felt her heart start to thump. He looked as though he was prepared to lean there for the rest of the evening.

“Furry dice, for a start.”

“What?” She thought she must have misheard.

“And nodding dogs.” Remus nodded as well, rather thoughtfully. “That needs to be discussed because I’m not sure which you’d prefer.”

“Have you gone mad?”

“Probably. It’s been quite a day and I’ve discovered a few things. Like the fact that you haven’t invited me in yet, so I’ll have to invite myself. May I come in?”

She folded her own arms and did her best to glare at him. “You’re not coming in till you tell me what you’re on about. I’ve had a very hard day myself, I’ve made embarrassing declarations in public, and all I get in ret-”

“Muggles have furry dice in their vehicles. I saw them once for myself and Arthur dreams of owning some one day. He says they have these nodding toy dogs in the back as well that must really annoy the person behind. Now I know you’re keen on straw donkeys, I’m going to ask him to track some down for you. I want to get you something for your desk, or,as it's you, you can tie them on your broomstick.”

“You-” She stopped, staring at him.

“It’s what couples do, isn’t it?” He smiled at her. “Couples in a serious relationship would certainly give one another things for their desks. And you bought me that little chocolate dispenser for my birthday, which I’ve got on mine, so it’s only fair I give you something in return for yours.”

She swallowed. “Are we in a serious relationship?”

“If you open the door, I’ll tell you how serious.”

She took two hesitant steps which took her to the door, fumbling to get it open. He watched her closely, while she thought she could feel his breath on her hair, and then she had the damn thing open at long last and they were inside; standing in her small, pokey hallway where, although she’d kissed him good night there a hundred times, it all felt suddenly very different.

“The place is a tip,” she said, saying the first thing that came into her head.

“Yes, I expect it is.” He lent forward, brushed the pink hair aside, and kissed the side of her neck.

“There’s unwashed pots piled up in the kitchen, and I haven’t even made the bed.”

His lips were very warm on her skin. “Well that’ll probably save some time. It was good of you to plan ahead.”

It occurred to her that she ought to make him work at this before she just wound her arms round his neck and enjoyed every single second. It was the least she deserved, after all.

“Look,” she said, trying to sound indignant, “I thought you were supposed to be telling me things. A girl needs to be romanced, you know, even in times like these. You’re supposed to be whispering things you wouldn’t want anyone else to hear before we get to the ripping each other’s clothes off part.”

He lifted his head, and reached behind her, opening the door to the bedroom.

“I was planning to do both at once, but you’re probably right.” He smiled at her, but he touched her face with the lightest of fingers and his words were soft and serious. “So perhaps I should start by saying that I have no idea what you’re doing with someone like me, but I’m so thankful that you are. And as long I’ve got you, and know you’re all right, I feel I can get through anything.” The finger touched her lips and then traced a path along the bottom one. “I can’t imagine anything that could keep me from you for very long. Even this war couldn’t manage that.”

His hands touched her shoulders and he steered her gently backwards on her nerveless legs, neatly dodging a pair of black stilettos that she’d considered and rejected for Carmen first thing. How long ago all that seemed; back in a time when he hadn’t said those words, and she’d had no idea how much she needed to hear them. He shut the door behind them with his foot, and turned her ninety degrees so her back was to the door.

He placed his hands on either side of her head and leant slightly against her. She felt his warm breath on her face, and the jolt in her stomach and the wild thumping of her heart was exactly like that first time so long ago.

“So what’s your idea of a romantic setting then? Sun, sea or sand?” He turned his head to look round the room. “And don’t do that-” he gave her a severe look as she tried to unhook his shirt from the back of his trousers “- or I won’t be responsible for the consequences.”

She laid her head back against the door, her mind still spinning from his earlier words, and laughed at him. “You can’t put the sea in my bedroom, Remus. Anyway,” she said, hurriedly, as he raised an eyebrow at her in what looked like challenge and reached for his wand, “I’d like a beautiful night sky with all the stars looking down at us. Although only if you’d like that as well?” she added, suddenly thinking that this probably wasn’t the best thing in the world to suggest to him.

He gave her that mischievous look she wondered if anyone else ever saw. “It’s all right, Miss Tactful. I’m rather fond of the stars myself, it’s the moon I have one or two issues with.”

“I don’t want a moon,” she said, reaching up to kiss his cheek and wondering, as she always did, how he stayed so cheerful and sane about all the things that had happened to him, when a lesser person would have given up years ago. There was nothing he couldn’t cope with. She started to kiss his neck and he grasped her round the waist with one arm, pulling her into his side, and flicked his wand at the ceiling.

“There,” he said, sounding slightly smug again, and she raised her eyes to see a perfect starlit sky of darkest velvet stretching above their heads. The stars glinted at her like tiny pieces of diamond, casting bright pinpricks of light on her crumpled duvet and carpet.

“Anything else?” Remus still had his wand out-stretched.

Tonks kissed his cheek again and laid her face next to it. “A gentle breeze,” she murmured into his neck, because it was a hot, muggy night, and she wanted nothing so much as to lie under that duvet with him and shut the rest of the world out.

The softest of breezes floated across the room and stirred her hair.

“Anything else?”

“Mmm.” She flicked the wand out of his unresisting hand; her own hand pulling his shirt out, this time successfully, and then sliding up his warm, thin back.

“Just you and me,” she said, incoherently. “That’s all I want.”

He slid his hand through her hair to the nape of her neck, the blue eyes searching hers, and he shook his head as though in wonder and kissed her. He kissed her mouth, her cheek, her forehead, her eyes, and she kissed him back and slid her fingers into his hair. She moved her cheek against his as if she could melt into him.

“Yes,” she said, as they started to move towards the bed and she’d managed to get at least four of his buttons undone, and his belt as well, which was a manoeuvre Mad-Eye had certainly never covered in his manuals. Somehow Remus had managed to get her top over her head, which she had no recollection of at all, although it had definitely happened because her breath caught in her throat as he kissed and licked the soft hollow between her breasts.

They were on the bed and, just to prove it was real life and that that always had unpleasant and unforeseen surprises, she thumped her head painfully against the headboard and he winced as his elbow caught on the bedside table. But their clothes smoothly disappeared - apart from one particularly stubborn boot of hers - and he put his mouth on her mouth and his fingers writhed in her hair. His hands moved down her throat to her breasts and her belly, and his mouth followed their path. She pushed him backwards in turn and kissed him and stroked his skin, loving the warmth and the smell of him, and listening to the sounds he made and not quite believing she could make him do that.

“Nymphadora,” he said, in a husky voice that was distinctly unsteady, and then did something which made her think he could get away with it just this once, especially as she hadn’t got breath to spare for arguing.

“Only in the bedroom!” she managed with an effort in response, and somehow they both laughed, and he said something else which literally turned her heart over, and knew she’d replay over and over in her mind later.

He rolled her onto her back and she held him fiercely; loving the feel of his body moving against hers, skin moving against skin, as well as against all the nightmares that the world outside could hold. His knee pressed on hers and she felt the small, gentle breeze caress her skin, and then he was smothering the sounds they both made with his mouth. She held onto him and pressed up into him, her fingers digging into his back and then clenching on his hips as she pressed again and again. The tiny beads of light were dancing on them and around them and, though she’d always despised those soppy romance novels with their clueless heroines, she suddenly knew she was soaring amongst those stars.

And she knew that he was, too.

In the morning she woke and found she’d rolled away from him in her sleep. The night sky had faded to the lightest of greys, but the stars were still faintly visible, like chips of ice. His hair looked as though someone had been twisting their hands through it all night, and she thought her own was probably even worse, and wanted to laugh. She smiled as she remembered the things they’d done and what he’d said to her. There was another day to face, a report to be given to Dumbledore and perhaps even more unpleasant work ahead, but as long as she had him, and they had this, then she knew what they were fighting for and that they’d be all right.

She went to settle down next to him again, when her eye was caught by the rose in the small vase on the bedside table he’d bumped into. It had opened overnight into a round rosette of the deepest pink petals, which curled upwards and outwards as though to greet the day. The brown edges were no longer visible and seemed not to exist any more.

So this is romance, she thought, and laid her head down softly next to his. And nothing can touch us now…