Anywhere But Here
Well. I'll own up to it. It's kinda, well, like, uh, erm, smut. Kind of. I'd've written a bodice-ripper, but if I'm going to do fic in which someone gets on-screen action, it's going to have busted noses, bashed fingers, and the occasional argument. As several members of my glorious flist and I have oft discussed, nobody ever has perfect sex all the time, and there definitely needs to be more scenes written in which people fall off the bed, or somebody comes knocking on the door at inopportune times (these and other plot bunnies may be showing up soon in a fanfic near you). This was written for wotcherwerewolf 's Monthly Challenge #3: "Remus and Tonks are on an Order mission, and get separated from the rest of the group."
Title: Anywhere But Here
Word Count: 8200+ (wow, where'd that come from?)
Rating: Hard R/Soft NC-17
Summary: See above, pretty much.
Remus had been holed up in his room at the Order’s makeshift headquarters, stretched out as best as he could manage on the narrow bedstead, perusing the violet-coloured leaflet which had arrived by owl post that morning.
The Ministry knows about as much about Defense as I know about Potions, he thought, making yet another set of notes in the margin - things the community really needed to know, but which the leaflet didn’t cover in the slightest.
Piece of shite, is what this is.
Sighing heavily, he threw down his quill, spattering ink all over the patched sheets, and reached for the now-cold cup of tea Molly Weasley had brought up an hour before.
‘Get your rest,’ they said. ‘You’ve had a rough time.’
Bollocks.
This transformation had been a difficult one, especially as he’d been locked away in the cellar of the old stone cabin once again, alone at the full moon for the first time in nearly a year. He was scratched-up and bruised, a fair amount more than some in the Order had ever seen him to be, but he’d fared worse in the past.
He’d live.
He’d be in a much better mood if he was out doing something to help, but instead, he was being brought a downright soft assignment from Dumbledore, and bloody breakfast in bed by Molly, and at a time like this, it seemed downright ludicrous…
Even if he did feel as though he’d been hit by the Knight Bus, it made him feel utterly useless to be coddled and confined to bed when there was so much to be done.
As if an answer to his unspoken wishes for something useful to do, Mad-Eye Moody burst through the door.
"Get up, Lupin, you lazy sod," Mad-Eye barked. "We need backup down in Somerset. The destruction’s more widespread than we’d thought, which means the Death Eaters might still be sticking around in areas we haven’t covered."
Remus bolted upright, and had to pause for a moment, waiting for a wave of dizziness and nausea to abate.
"Get going, Lupin!" Mad-Eye shouted, banging his walking stick against the doorframe.
Allowing himself the small luxury of rolling his eyes ("I saw that!"), Remus grabbed a jumper from over the rickety chair - one of the few items of furniture in his boardinghouse room - and his wand, and pushing aside the pain from the gashes all along his legs, he walked as quickly as he could in Mad-Eye’s wake.
Once oustide, he got the coordinates and a hasty briefing from Mad-Eye, and as soon as he’d crossed the threshold of the wards, Remus Disapparated.
He reappeared at the foot of a great hill, which looked incongruous amongst the surrounding green pastures. Well, he assumed they had been green; great chunks of the land had been torn asunder, and gnarled trees, obviously having been growing for centuries, were ripped up and thrown aside.
Remus surveyed the area, first looking for Death Eaters; finding none by his hasty surveillance, he settled for looking for victims in need of assistance.
There - a pair of feet, obviously attached to someone sprawled behind that tree trunk…
He rushed over, wand at the ready, mentally practising incantations for healing spells.
However, just as he got to the "victim", the person attached to the feet rose, brushing mud from the front of her royal-blue robes.
"When’d they put that bloody tree there?" she muttered, beating at a particularly large smear of dirt covering the DMLE logo across her left breast.
Remus gaped. He hadn’t seen her in a few days, not since they’d sent Harry back to his useless relatives, and there was something different about her, but still, the face was unmistakable: "Nymphadora?"
She whirled, still clutching at her chest, with a thunderous look of reproval. "Don’t call me tha - Remus?"
He hurried forward and reached out a hand, helping her over the fallen trunk.
"Might I ask just what you’re doing here?" he asked, his fingers unconsciously lingering at her elbow.
"I’m working," she answered shortly. "What else would I be doing?"
"Well, it’s just that…you just got out of St. Mungo’s, what, a week ago? And they’ve already got you out in the field?" He glanced around. "Merlin, Dumbledore’s taken you off Auror rotation till he’s sure you’re recovered, even. Where’s your backup?"
"I’m perfectly fit for duty," she replied, still using that curt tone. "I can take care of myself, thank you." With that, she pulled her arm from the grasp Remus hadn’t realized he still had on her.
He sighed. "Honestly, Nym - Tonks. I know you can. From what Moody told me, though, I’m here because there may still be Death Eaters in the area, and it’s not the best of ideas to be out here alone."
"Well, I’m partnered with Dawlish, the stupid sod," she muttered, shading her eyes to peer across the horizon. "Oh, yes, there he is, off doing what he wants, as usual. Can’t believe they promoted him…"
"Oh, fantastic. He’s the new Head of DMLE?"
"Yup. And he’s still an idiot."
Remus chuckled. "The only boss I ever had who wasn’t an idiot is Dumbledore. Might explain why I’m still working for him, even if the pay’s significantly less for the Order."
Tonks nudged him. "C’mon, you’re my new partner, then. Any word from Mad-Eye on where we’re supposed to look?"
"Up there," Remus said, pointing toward the hill. "Glastonbury Tor. Mad-Eye thinks that if any of them are going to be in the area under orders from Voldemort, it’s there. Supposedly, it’d be an ideal stronghold…" Shuddering, Remus inwardly agreed, as he could just imagine Voldemort’s line of thinking.
"Hmm." Tonks made a noise of dubious agreement, and followed Remus up one of the winding paths across the terraced hillside.
Some while later, both of them stopped almost simultaneously and dropped down to rest.
"Thought - you said - you were - fit for duty…" Remus wheezed, clutching a stitch in his side.
"I am," Tonks retorted archly, rubbing at her hip, which was still fairly sore. "Look at you, though. Thirty-six hours since your last transformation, if that, and Mad-Eye sends you out?"
"I was needed. Same as you. Now, let’s see about getting ourselves up to the top."
Tonks heaved herself to her feet and trudged forward, lingering a bit behind Remus. "Y’know, it’s a bit daft, sending the most infirm people for a rescue effort. Chances are that we’ll need to be rescued, ourselves."
Remus made a noncommittal noise, limping his way up a steep incline, inwardly agreeing with all his heart, though he’d be the last to admit it. Bloody war…
They finally crested the hill and stood, panting, staring at a tower some distance away.
"Well, that’s it," Remus whispered between grateful lungfuls of air.
Tonks drew her wand and held it slightly behind her back. Remus did the same. Shoulder-to-shoulder (or rather, shoulder-to-arm, as she was a fair bit shorter), they approached.
First creeping round the perimeter, they found nothing of interest. Standing with their backs pressed against the stone near the great entrance to the tower, they exchanged a glance, then bent low and looked through the doorway.
At first, they could only see steam issuing from the belly of a great stone cauldron. Tonks grabbed a handful of Remus’ robes and squinted, peering round his arm to better see inside.
Within moments, a short figure emerged from the thick steam. He crouched, his back to the two Order members, black robes pooling at his feet. The barest hint of white - a mask, removed from his face but still dangling round his neck - could be seen poking over his shoulder.
He held a wand in his left hand, muttering an incantation, as he steadied himself on the floor with his right.
His right hand…
…Silver…
…It took barely a second for Remus to realize on whom they were spying, and as soon as he did, he stiffened. Tonks, apparently, had also realized whom they were facing, and she grabbed hold of Remus’ arm.
The squat figure also froze, as though realizing he was being watched. His wand hand clenched, and slowly, he began to turn.
The death grip Tonks had on Remus’ arm only intensified, and in his panic, Remus stepped back, covering her whitened knuckles firmly with his own.
He lifted a foot and did a wild spin…
…Somewhere safe…Anywhere but here!…
** ** ** ** **
Next thing he knew, Remus was standing in the middle of a deserted beach, disoriented and still feeling every beat of his racing heart. And he wasn’t alone.
"What in Merlin’s name did you do?" Tonks asked, releasing his arm and whirling to face him, eyes flashing.
"Got us the hell out of there," Remus retorted, his eyes shifting rapidly, taking in their unfamiliar surroundings.
"Oh, lovely," Tonks snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Just. Bloody. Brilliant. So rather than doing my job and apprehending a fugitive, I’ve been abducted, mid-shift, by a…"
"Werewolf," Remus absently finished. "So. Erm…Does this look familiar to you?"
Tonks’ jaw dropped. "You don’t know where we are?"
Remus finally turned to face her, shaking his head. "I haven’t the faintest."
They both stood in the fading late afternoon sunlight, robes billowing in a stiff breeze, breathing in sea air and trying to ascertain their surroundings.
"Nope," Tonks finally said, over the faint rushing of waves gently crashing against the sand several yards away. "Wherever we are, I have no idea…"
Remus gave a dry laugh. "Welcome to Anywhere But Here."
Tonks held out an arm. "Well, kind sir, it’s been quite an adventure, but now you’re welcome to escort me home."
Staring out over the sea, Remus raised an eyebrow. "Erm, Rule of Apparition number six?"
"Oh, hell. If you don’t know where you’re starting from, you don’t know where you’ll end up, because…"
They chorused: "Divination and Desperation are not two of the three D’s."
Tonks rubbed at her temples. "Should’ve known you had old Twycross, too. Rule number six, bloody hell…So, in other words…"
"In other words, we’re stuck here, at least till we can figure out where we are.
"I’m very sorry," Remus continued after a long pause. "I didn’t mean to get you into this mess…And I certainly didn’t intend to imply that you couldn’t do your job."
Tonks heaved a sigh. "I know you didn’t, Remus. I’m just a bit tetchy today, is all." She looked around, absently rubbing her sore hip, which was throbbing horribly. "And for the record, I wasn’t going to say I’d been abducted by a werewolf. I was going to call you a madman."
Remus gave a shrug - Apparently, the apology, such as it were, had been accepted.
The sun was sinking lower on the horizon, and without an owl in sight, the two of them seemed resigned to their fate.
"Let’s go find shelter, at least," Remus said.
Tonks nodded, and they set forth, their shoes sinking into the sand.
The last fading rays of daylight filtered through the clouds beginning to form overhead, and illuminated a rocky cove some distance away, which appeared to be far enough from the shoreline that it wouldn’t fill with water, come high tide.
"There," Tonks said, pointing. "If we’re lucky, we’ll find a spot to camp out for the night."
They investigated, lighting their wands as the wind picked up, and night fell in earnest.
"Oi!" cried Tonks, pulling at Remus’ arm.
"This will certainly suffice," he agreed, holding his wand before him and surveying the outcropping, which appeared to be the mouth of a shallow cave.
Ducking their heads to enter, they saw that the cave actually went a fair ways back. It appeared to be devoid of both human and animal inhabitants, though there was evidence that this hadn’t always been the case; the ashes of fires long-since-burned-out and various bits of rubbish - scraps of paper, cast-off rags, empty bottles - and a collection of feathers and small bones littered the corners.
Tonks wrinkled her nose. "It smells like…"
"…Wet dog," Remus finished, making a face as well, but settling in nonetheless. "Well, it will do for now. We may as well light a fire."
"Oh, bugger, and I left my kindling at home," Tonks muttered.
Remus fished in a pocket. "Well, this is good for something, at least," he said, producing the Ministry leaflet. Marginal notes and all, a quick Incendio and an Everlasting Warmth charm made the Guide to Home and Personal Defence much more useful.
"Heh," Tonks chuckled. "I rather thought the same, when Dawlish showed it to me when I first came on duty. Right load of shite, that is."
Remus settled himself against the wall of the cave closest to the fire and tried not to let the soreness he felt in his very bones show through on his face.
Tonks, however, wasn’t fooled. She sat down beside him and pulled a small vial of potion from the inner pocket of her robes. "Pain-Relief Tonic?" she asked, uncorking the bottle and offering it to him.
Remus shook his head. "No, that’s yours, and there can’t be more than two doses left. You need it more than I do, I think."
"Two doses. One for each of us." Tonks took a careful gulp, then passed the vial to Remus.
He hesitated.
"Drink it or I’ll have your arse on a platter," Tonks said, smiling sweetly.
Heaving a sigh of resignation, he swallowed the rest, and immediately felt the throbbing in his gashes and bruises subside.
Feeling a bit languid in the sudden absence of pain, his head lolled back, and Remus stretched his legs in front of him. Tonks glanced the small patch of bare ankle revealed as his trouser legs had caught on the rock, and looked accusingly at him.
"See, you did need it." She gestured toward the deep, nasty slash showing between his sock and trouser cuff. "How could you not?"
He grunted and tugged at his pants leg, obscuring the gash and carefully avoiding her eyes. "I’m used to it, I suppose."
"Bollocks, Remus," she snapped. "You try and try to hide the fact that you’re in pain, but I can still tell, you daft prat."
They sat in silence, backs against the rocky surface, watching the flames casting shadows against the walls of the cave.
"So we’re stranded on some windy deserted island, in a smelly cave." Tonks finally spoke, casting a sideways glance at Remus.
"It appears that way," he said, curling his legs to his chest and bracing his elbows on his knees.
Tonks laughed and shook her head. "You may have bad timing, what with my being on duty and there being a war on and all, but could I thank you for the unexpected holiday?"
"Holiday?"
She nudged his side. "Sure. The real world may as well not exist right now. I’ll take a holiday where I can find it."
A chuckle escaped his lips, before reality set back in, and he started anew with trying to figure out a way to get them back home.
Their Patronus communication would likely not work over such a great distance, and of course, neither of them carried an owl in their pockets. Until they could figure out a way to get a message to the Order, they were stuck.
On a beach. In the middle of nowhere.
It could be worse.
A strong rumble of thunder echoed through the cavern.
The two absentee fighters exchanged a stricken look.
It could be worse, indeed.
Tonks pulled herself to her feet and made her way to the mouth of the cave.
"Oh…Hell…" she said slowly, turning to stare at Remus. "You couldn’t’ve taken us somewhere that wasn’t expecting a storm?"
"All right." Remus braced his hands on the stone behind him and pushed himself up to stand. "I said I was sorry for Apparating us the hell out of there. I’m ashamed of my own cowardice. I panicked. But we’re here, we’re stranded for now, and if there’s anything else you’d like to complain about, go ahead. I’m listening."
He folded his arms and regarded the young witch before him. Twenty-four hours before, she’d still been in the hospital, recovering from spell wounds inflicted by her own aunt, and injuries from the subsequent fall down a flight of stone steps. She’d been determined enough to bring herself back out into the field as soon as she could, which Remus couldn’t help but admire; he himself had been thrown into the fray when he wasn’t feeling his best, more than once, and he knew that putting his duties before his own well-being took his toll on his health and his mood. However, this was ridiculous…
Tonks had shot him a filthy look and stumbled to the opposite side of the fire, and she sat heavily on the ground, turning her back to him and burying her head in her knees.
Remus stood in silence for a full minute before he realized her shoulders were shaking.
He crept around to her side and knelt down. "Nymphadora?" he asked, tentatively touching her shoulder.
She shook her head wildly, her forehead rumpling her sleeve as she did so. "Don’t call me that," she sobbed.
"Oh, dear…" Remus whispered, looking around the cave, rather wishing he’d find a hidden door with a sign: To Civilization.
Seeing nothing of the sort, he settled himself next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Come on, now, it’s not that bad…We’ll get back…"
Tonks raised her head and wiped at her tearstained cheeks. "It’s not that. I’m not worried about getting home. I’d rather not go back, really."
Remus raised his eyebrows, but waited in silence, figuring there was more. Sure enough, within moments, she let loose a great flood of shaky words.
"I came on duty today and the first thing Dawlish did was tell me he’d be wanting to know more about what Dumbledore’s doing, since everyone knows now that I’m involved in the Order…I told him that I’d do nothing of the sort, and he threatened to write me up, said he was under orders from Scrimgeour to get me to talk, stupid sods, all of them - and then he stalked off, leaving me on my own, when I was supposed to have a partner for the damned mission, and that’s when I went off to try and investigate, and I fell and you found me, and I’m just so mad that I’m stuck in the middle, trying to do what’s right and getting kicked in the arse at every turn - Sirius is dead, Bellatrix killed him, I couldn’t stop her - and Amelia Bones is gone, she was the only decent one in the Department besides Kingsley - I sodding hate this war, I hate it…"
Remus folded both arms tightly around her shuddering form and held her close. After a while, she loosened her grip on her own knees and clutched at the back of his jumper, sniffling into his shoulder.
She took a deep breath. "Remus…I’m sorry I snapped at you. I didn’t mean it."
"I know," he murmured, stroking absently at her hair. Glancing down, he noticed it was different than he was used to seeing it during her waking hours.
"You left your hair brown today," he said, twining a strand between his fingers.
"Oh, that’s the icing on the cake - I couldn’t morph." Tonks surreptitiously pressed the sleeve of her robes to her nose and hoped Remus wouldn’t notice.
He fished a handkerchief out of a pocket and handed it to her.
"Thanks," she muttered, averting her eyes. "I talked with the mediwitch at St. Mungo’s by Floo this morning. She said it was probably because of the shock to my system - the injury, the upheaval with the Order, with Sirius gone, and finding out about Amelia. She said to ‘take it easy’ and ‘try to avoid any more physical or emotional trauma’, and it’ll come back." She snorted, then quickly swiped at her nose again. "The way things have been going? Fat chance of that."
Remus turned the strand wrapped around his fingers this way and that, catching the firelight. "It’s rather nice brown, I think."
"Yes, but the morphing is part of my job, and the last thing I need is something else making for a strike against me."
"Well, if they can’t see past that, they’re fools." He untwisted the hair from round his fingers and let it fall, smoothing it back into place with the other fine strands.
Another rumble of thunder - this time, louder and stronger - erupted, and both of them jumped.
"We should probably move a bit further in," Remus said softly, as a flash of lightning briefly illuminated the sky just outside.
Tonks nodded against his shoulder, and accepted the hand at her elbow, helping her to stand. They skirted the merrily-blazing flames and settled themselves on the floor, with the fire standing sentry between themselves and the mouth of the cave.
"Wonder if they’ve noticed we’re missing yet," Tonks mused.
Remus smiled. "Most likely. We’ll figure something out once the storm passes, I’m sure."
Tonks rolled her eyes. "Let’s take our time. I’m in no great rush to get back."
"Same for me," Remus murmured.
Glancing his way, she was surprised to see a shadow cross his face that had nothing to do with the firelight. "Want to talk about it?"
"No." Shaking his head, Remus added, "Absolutely not."
Tonks nodded, and shivered slightly.
"Are you cold?" asked Remus, who was feeling a bit of a chill, himself.
"A bit," she said, crossing her arms and rubbing her hands along her sleeves.
Remus pulled off his jumper and offered it to her.
"No, you keep it," she said through chattering teeth.
Remus shook his head. "Take it."
"Only if we share." Tonks pulled her wand from the pocket of her robes and muttered an incantation. The jumper was Transfigured into a small woolen blanket. "Engorgio," she added, and it tripled in size.
She handed the freshly-created blanket to Remus, then stood and took off her Auror robes, which Transfigured quite nicely into a thick blue sheet.
"Eh, if I ever quit the Ministry, at least I know I’ll have a lovely coverlet for my bed," Tonks mused, surveying her handiwork.
Remus wrapped half the sweater-blanket round himself, and Tonks took the other end and huddled close to him, the gooseflesh from their bared arms slowly subsiding. They both pulled the blue erstwhile-robes round themselves and sat in silence by the fire as the storm picked up strength outside.
"It’s getting worse," Remus remarked a while later, watching another flash of lightning streak across the night sky.
As though to underscore the point, the wind chose that moment to change direction. A great gust blew into the cave, extinguishing the magical fire and plunging the entire cave into pitch darkness.
"Oh, bugger," Tonks hissed, shivering more than ever. "Wand, wand…Oh, thank Godric. Lumos. Got yours?"
Remus pulled his wand from inside his shirt and lit the tip.
"Here, I have an idea." Tonks shrugged her way out of the blankets and held her wand before her, looking for something she’d seen earlier. Teeth chattering, she searched the farthermost corners of the cave and came back with two empty bottles. "Cheap Muggle beer. Even that sounds all right now…"
"You sound like Sirius," Remus chuckled.
Tonks pointed her wand into the bottles and produced streams of blue flames, which penetrated the darkness and provided a small amount of warmth.
"Believe it or not, Hermione Granger taught me that one," she said, shivering madly as she propped the bottles carefully within a low crevice.
Remus carefully watched her trembling form as she came back to where he sat.
"Hold on for a moment," he said, and extinguished his wand in order to place Warming charms on the blankets. "You’re freezing. Come here."
She gratefully settled into the heated covers and drew closer to Remus’ warm body.
"Are you hungry?" Remus asked, curling an arm around her back and pressing his arm against hers.
Tonks shook her head.
"Good, because there’s nothing to eat," he said wryly. "Think you could sleep?"
"I’m tired, but not, if that makes sense."
"Same here," Remus said. "We might as well try to get some rest. The rain’ll stop soon enough."
He spread the robes across the floor of the cave and gingerly lay down, shifting uncomfortably in hopes of finding a softer patch of rock. Giving it up as a bad job, he resigned himself to a sore back in the morning. Beside him, Tonks curled up on her side, her arm folded beneath her head, and they wrapped themselves in the woolen blanket, their eyes reflecting the blue firelight from the crevice above.
A great peal of thunder shook the very walls of the cave, and they jumped, startled, then crowded together even more.
"I really don’t like storms," Tonks whispered, so softly that Remus nearly missed it.
"I don’t, either," he murmured, wrapping his arms around her waist reflexively as she snuggled into his side.
The wind howled, making an eerie whistling noise across the mouth of the cave, occasionally sending a burst of cold air in their direction and making them shudder in the sudden chill.
He absently stroked her hair, and as he tucked a soft strand of fringe behind her ear, she whispered, "Remus, I’m afraid."
At first, Remus thought she was talking about the storm and their predicament; then, he realized she was admitting to the ever-present, universal fear that pervaded life in the time of war.
He turned his head and cupped her cheek in his palm. "I am, too."
She bit her lip as she met his gaze. He could see his own face - haggard, lined, and weary - doubly reflected in her own eyes, and he wondered exactly what he must look like to her, at a time like this.
She pulled even closer to his side and ran her fingertips down his unshaven jaw, across his chin, and over his mouth. His eyes fell to half-mast, and he could feel his lips parting, his breathing coming more raggedly.
The hand resting on her cheek slid across to her ear as she brought her face level with his, a hair’s-breadth away. He twined his fingers at the soft hair resting at the nape of her neck and brought her lips to meet his.
Another bout of thunder shook the cave, and they pulled back, staring into one another’s eyes.
"I really shouldn’t…" Remus began, gasping for breath.
"I don’t care," Tonks said, arching an eyebrow and leaning in to kiss him soundly.
She eventually was the one to break away, resting her forehead against his. "Remus…you know perfectly well how I feel. We’re stuck here together, and even when we do make it back, there’s no guarantee that we’ll still be alive tomorrow."
Remus shuddered. "I know. I’ve lived through one war. I know."
"Well, then, the least we can do is make the most of tonight." Tonks nestled her chin on his shoulder, and he closed his eyes tightly at the sensation of her warm breath against his neck.
"You really don’t want me," he protested feebly. "I’m far too old for you, too poor, I’m a bloody werewolf, you deserve better than that…"
"And I’ve told you before," she whispered, her lips against his ear making it difficult for him to process her actual words, "I know who you are, and I don’t give a damn about all that. I love you for you, Remus, and the rest of it can go to hell, for all I care."
"I shouldn’t…"
"Sure you should."
Remus sighed. "Will you let me finish?"
Tonks’ lips curled into a smile against his neck. "All right."
"I was going to say, before I was so rudely interrupted," he murmured, giving her hair a gentle tug, "that I shouldn’t care for you, but I still can’t stop myself…No matter how unfair it is to you."
"It’s not unfair to me, Remus," she said, looking directly into his face. "That’s really all I could ask for."
Finally abandoning the last binding of restraint, Remus lifted himself on one elbow and rested the other hand behind her head, lowering her body to the ground and trying to keep the majority of his weight off of her smaller body.
"I might be gone soon," he mumbled against her lips. Good Godric, he didn’t want to think about that now, but he had to tell her, at least…
"So might we all," came her muffled answer.
Well, that was true enough.
His lips traced a path along her jaw, the shell of her ear, and down her neck. He rested his mouth against the throbbing pulse at the side of her neck, and she whimpered.
"Are you all right?" he whispered, raising his eyes to look at her properly.
Her eyes were glazed, her breathing loud in the hollow space. "Gods, yes," she answered, her head falling back heavily against his hand. Remus gave an involuntary grunt of pain as her skull made contact with his fingers
"Oh, damn," she hissed, sitting abruptly upright, and banging her forehead against Remus’ nose in the process.
"Oh, no," she wailed, "I’m so, so sorry…"
Remus, however, was laughing around the soreness in his hand and the bridge of his nose. "Honestly, I think that perhaps this is part and parcel of being with you."
"Shut up," she snapped, curling herself up in a little ball, and even in the dim glow from the makeshift lamps, he could see her look of utter mortification.
"Nymphadora." He settled himself, cross-legged, atop the blue cloth spread across the floor, and reached across the space between them to take her hand. "It’s all right."
"Don’t call me that, and no, it’s not."
"Yes, it is. Now come over here." She cast a wary glance in his direction, and he gave the sort of grin that few people still surviving would have recognized. "I could really use a kiss to make it all better."
Tonks’ eyes widened at the extremely mischevious expression crossing Remus’ face, and she crawled to where he was sitting. "Right, then," she murmured, climbing atop his lap and wrapping her legs around his back. She placed a gentle kiss on the bridge of his nose. "Better?"
"Much better, thank you." He held up the hand she’d damn near crushed, and with a rueful shake of her head, she pressed her lips to each of the fingers in turn.
Remus took back his hand and ran it slowly down her spine. "That’s an improvement. You must be magic or something."
"Or something," she agreed, trailing her fingers down his arms.
Remus reached behind himself and grabbed the wool blanket. He wrapped it firmly around her body and his own, then wound his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, kissing her with a ferocity she hadn’t imagined him capable of.
His tongue tracing a path along her upper lip, Remus loosened his grasp on her waist and ran his hands up her side, bringing her baggy shirt - chosen for its comfort rather than any attractiveness value - up to her shoulders. She ducked, taking care not to injure herself or him in the process, and Remus pulled it over her head and flung the shirt aside. His fingertips ran slowly, tortuously across her breasts, through a thick layer of cotton. He paused and drew back. She glanced down and saw he was staring incredulously at her undergarments.
"All right, if I would have known you were kidnapping me, I would’ve chosen something a bit nicer," she protested.
"Well, unless you’re planning on going jogging, can we get rid of this? It’s a bit…determined." Remus’ voice was even huskier than usual as he tugged at the hemline of her rather ratty sports brassiere.
Tonks wrestled her way out of the straps and tossed the offending garment to the ground. "Better?"
"Oh, yes." His eyes roved over her exposed flesh, and she shivered, both from the chill in the damp air, and from the intensity of his gaze. Remus pulled the blanket back up behind her, holding it firmly to her bare back with one hand, and running the other across her collarbones, and down.
"You are so beautiful," he murmured, continuing his exploration with his hands as he kissed the side of her mouth.
Tonks grimaced. "Not too little, then?"
"I strongly believe that more than a handful is a waste," he said, illustrating the point by gently cupping one small breast in his hand.
His fingers stroked across the gentle slope at the top of her breast to find purchase around her ribcage, and a thumb circled round her nipple, eliciting a groan from deep in her throat.
Her head fell back, eyes closed tight, and it could have been moments or years of sweet agony later when the blanket dropped to the floor and both hands gripped her middle, leaning her back, and his mouth -
She let loose yet another moan, a guttural sound she could never remember making before in her life, as his lips and teeth and the warmth of his breath grazed her nipples, cold air hitting the wetness left behind whenever he’d pull his mouth away, the opposing sensations driving her wild with need.
The roughness of the blanket against her back brought her back to reality, and her eyes flew open as Remus pulled her back upright, still straddling his lap, pressing herself to him and gulping great lungfuls of air.
He regarded her carefully, his lip quirking up at one corner. "All right, then?"
"Holy shit, Remus," she gasped, grabbing the sides of his face and pulling his mouth to hers, trying to communicate the extent of her need through lips, tongue, and the occasional wild, graceless bumping of teeth, combined.
She grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked it upwards, wresting it from his hands when he tried to keep it in place.
"Get over it, Remus," she murmured, closing her lips along the curve of his ear as she spoke. "Don’t care about scars or cuts or much of anything else right now. Help me, here, or I’m ripping the damn thing off."
Remus reluctantly let go of the shirt, and she whipped it over his head, then pressed her nude torso to his, kissing him fiercely and grabbing fistfuls of his hair.
He wrenched away from her grasp and stared at her,.
"What’s wrong?" she asked, untangling her hands and placing them on his bare shoulders.
"You’re not going to…" he glanced down at his chest, then flicked his eyes back up to her face, searching.
"What? Scream? Merlin, Remus, I told you, I don’t care." She ran her fingertips down the sparse hair covering his front, raising an eyebrow as a flash of lightning illuminated the cave, making it easy to take into account his lacerations, both new and old. She continued her study, carefully avoiding each of the fresh gashes.
His face fell, but she could see his smile. "You seem to not care about a lot of things."
"It’s because most of the things you make a fuss about are right stupid."
He laughed softly, reaching behind her back to take hold of the blanket, and carefully leaned forward, depositing her atop the thick blue cloth that once had been her Ministry robes.
"Warming charm still holding?" he whispered, throwing the blanket across his back and tucking the sides under her waist.
"Yes," she murmured, pulling him closer. "Come here."
She pulled his shoulders down and pressed a soft kiss to his nose, chin, and each of his cheeks, then met his lips with her own, savouring the feeling of his warm body atop hers.
She whimpered in protest as he rocked back on his heels, but her perspective shifted as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her soft knit pants.
"Yes," she said quietly, hoping he’d heard her over the latest rumble of thunder. She lifted her hips and pushing the back down over her bum, in her haste to get the damn things off.
Remus dragged the trousers down her legs, taking her knickers with them, and she heard his stifled gasp as the fresh hex marks were brought into view.
"I didn’t make a fuss about your scars," she muttered, covering the wound and the surrounding bruises, and shifting herself over to her uninjured side, feeling a great deal more self-conscious than she had moments before.
"What did she do to you?" Remus hissed indignantly, tossing her discarded clothing to the side and prying Tonks’ hands away from the stubborn gash across the crest of her pelvis.
"It’s healing, Remus. It’ll just take time."
His face fell as he contemplated the wound.
"Listen, if you think it’s awful, we’ll just stop this right now, we can go to sleep, and we’ll just figure things out in the morning." Tonks stared at the cavern wall as she said this, hating her aunt more than ever before, and trying to concentrate on the sound of the rain lashing the walls of the cavern, as she would much rather think of the rain than of Remus….
"No!" cried Remus, leaning forward and bracing his hands on either side of her body. "No, no, it’s not that, not at all. I just…wouldn’t want to hurt you."
She gave a one-shouldered shrug, still curled on her side. "I told you, it’s healing. It’s Sealed, and it would be right difficult to open it again."
Remus peered more closely at the enormous rent in her skin. "They used that nasty green potion?"
"Gobs of it," she said, rolling her eyes.
"Well. Are you in pain?"
"Are you?" she shot back, crossing her arms over her chest and looking him defiantly in the eye.
"No, I had that Tonic, remember? I’m fine…" He sighed. "And so are you, of course."
"Yes."
Remus settled himself against her back and pulled the blanket back over them both. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…"
"…Condescend? Patronise me?" She glanced over her shoulder. "I’m not some delicate hothouse flower, Remus. I’m plenty tough."
"You are, indeed. I’m very sorry."
Tonks closed her eyes, not feeling the least bit sleepy, but not wanting to face what she figured would be the end of their tryst.
Remus’ hand stroked her upper arm under the wool blanket. After a few moments, one of his fingertips brushed her breast. Still sensitive from the attention they’d received earlier, she shuddered and reflexively pressed herself into his body.
"Mmm," he murmured, gently running his fingertips across her swollen nipples, bringing forth another soft moan from Tonks. "Am I forgiven?"
She settled herself more snugly into his warm side. "Possibly."
"We’ll have to see about that," he whispered into her neck, his long fingers grazing languidly under the blanket, stroking against her chest, then across her stomach.
She let out an inadvertent giggle. "That tickles."
Remus carefully avoided the injury inflicted by Bellatrix as he trailed his fingers along the curve of her hip, down to one knobbly knee, and back up -
She gasped as his hands made contact at the apex of her thighs, still using the lightest of touches. He explored further, discovering the wetness already surging forth, saturating the fine curls; her hips bucked as he pressed his hand against her very core, nimble fingers delving between the folds, committing each discovery to memory.
She’d been squirming against his hand, reduced to incoherent moaning once again, when his fingertips settled on a location and rhythm guaranteed to reduce her brain to protoplasm in less than ten seconds.
Damned if it didn’t take nine.
She would’ve promised him the world, a cure for lycanthropy, and a spanking new wardrobe at that moment, but she settled for lying flat on her back, catching her breath and staring up into his face.
"All right, you," she whispered, grabbing his unused belt loops and pulling him closer. "Get over here."
"You really don’t have to - " he began, weakly, but she’d taken hold of the button at the top of his trousers and was resolutely unfastening them, and who was he to argue, after all?
Within moments, his pants were shoved roughly down to his calves by a hungry-eyed woman, and Remus was kicking the remainder of his clothing from his feet, shaking himself, trying to tell his mind that he was really here, and Sweet Merlin, she wanted him…
He conscientiously settled himself between her thighs, ever-mindful of the nasty gash across her hip, though she didn’t seem to notice it one bit as she wrapped her legs around his own and dug her heels into the back of his legs.
"Gods, Remus," she breathed, pulling him closer, "Please…"
He paused at the last possible moment, brushing himself against her, leaning forward to look into her eyes.
"You’re certain?" he whispered.
In response, she grabbed his hips and pulled him down, thrusting her own pelvis off the stone floor.
Both of them groaned as he entered her roughly, the first thrust as deep as was humanly possible, due to his own finally-unleashed eagerness, and her efforts as well.
"My God," she hissed, her heels digging into the backs of his knees.
He drew back, propping himself on his elbows, and gazed at her face.
"You truly are beautiful," he said quietly, brushing a strand of light-brown hair from her forehead.
His flesh, however, urged him to quit romanticizing and keep going…
…He thrust into her, each push overriding his desire to make the most of the moment, to whisper more terms of endearment into her ear, and finally, he gave in to simply becoming something once removed from neanderthal status - bucking uncontrollably above her, reduced to incoherent grunting.
Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to mind, he figured in the back of his mind, as her fingernails dug into his shoulders.
He clutched her tightly, feeling the imminent clench of release in the very base of his belly.
She lifted her head and, without warning, sank her teeth into his shoulder.
He reared back, grabbed frantically at the backs of her thighs, feeling his fingertips clenching far too strongly at her skin and not caring one bit at that moment, as he spent himself inside of her, the tensing of her own muscles around him and the sound of her sudden shriek only extending his own climax.
It took a moment for him to come back down, but as soon as his body and mind had conferred and realized it was over, thank you, Remus had to focus his last mental connection to reality on the effort of leaning to one side as he uncerimoniously collapsed, barely missing her as he crashed to the floor beside her.
Several minutes passed, and through her own fading consciousness, she prodded him in the shoulder.
"Are you all right?"
Remus grunted, half-awake, and gave a vague approximation of a nod.
"No kidding," she whispered, nestling into his shoulder and yawning. "G’night."
"Nnngh," Remus replied, his head buried in his arms.
The storm died down an instant later, but neither of them were awake to notice.
Even if they had been, they likely would not have cared.
** ** ** ** **
Morning dawned, and there wasn’t a single sign of the storm that had blown through the night before.
Inside the cave, Tonks woke first, stretching from head to toe and blinking drowsily, fighting off a wave of disorientation as she tried to figure out where she’d ended up and how.
Smelly, rubbish-strewn cave…She squinted around, and did a double-take upon realizing that the pile of blankets next to her was snoring.
Remus.
Oh -
Erm -
Her mind raced, and the most coherent thought to which she could latch on was: Good Godric, that was damned close to what I'd call a brilliant shag, really.
A brilliantly-coloured tropical bird soared past the mouth of the cave, and she rubbed her eyes and ran a hand through her hair.
What the hell, she thought, and she scrunched up her face, concentrating.
Her scalp tingled, and she crowed, "Yes!"
The Remus-blankets stirred.
"Wake up, lazybones, I’m pink again!" she laughed, lifting a corner of the transfigured sweater and grinning at him.
"Good morning," he replied through a yawn, gazing blearily at her. "Where are we?"
"Remus, if I knew, we’d be out of here by now."
"I’m rather glad you don’t know, then," he murmured, pulling her down by the shoulders and kissing her soundly.
Eventually, he pulled away. "We really should be trying to find our way back."
Tonks sighed. "I thought you’d say that."
They set forth to gather their clothing from various areas of the cave and dressed in silence, both trying to figure out a way to notify the Order of their whereabouts.
Remus had just gathered up the transfigured robe and sweater, slinging both over his shoulder, when Tonks gasped.
Hurrying over to the farthermost corner of the cave, he crouched behind her and rested his chin on her shoulder, trying to see what had caught her attention.
"Look," she whispered, pointing.
An overturned postcard, unstamped but addressed to a "Mr. S. Black", lay abandoned under a pile of animal bones, which appeared to have come from a small rodent - a rat, or perhaps a ferret…
…Remus’ eyes widened as he recognized the narrow, looping handwriting.
Scenery is here. Wish you were beautiful. - A.P.W.B.D.
Remus and Tonks both stretched out a hand to the card, and their fingers only had time to brush the paper when a familiar feeling - like a hook grabbing just below the navel - took hold, and they were flying forward in a whirlwind of colour and sound.
** ** ** ** **
Their feet hit the floor, hard, and Tonks stumbled into Remus’ back, knocking both of them to the carpeting.
Albus Dumbledore’s silver beard trailed bare inches above their heads as he peered over the desk.
"Ah," he smiled, his eyes twinkling behind his spectacles, "I’ll be certain to notify Alastor that you’ve been found."
Tonks leapt to her feet, ignoring the scream of protest issuing from her hip, and held out a hand to Remus, who took it and gingerly pulled himself to standing.
Still clasping hands, they stood before the Hogwarts Headmaster, knowing full well they most likely looked unwashed, sleep-deprived, and utterly shagged-out.
"I see you’ve paid a visit, however inadvertently, to Anywhere But Here," Dumbledore continued, settling himself back into his chair and re-inking his quill.
"Sir?" Remus ventured, shifting from foot to foot, clutching a pair of blankets, and waiting for the axe to fall.
"No harm has been done, save for Alastor Moody having to admit to the other members of the Order that he was worried about the two of you." Dumbledore finished his correspondence and began heating a wax seal. "It was difficult for Mad-Eye, as I am sure you can imagine."
Tonks blurted, "We saw Pettigrew."
"Ah," Dumbledore murmured, running the seal across the flame of the candle one last time before pressing it to a ball of wax, "It is likely for the best that he was not apprehended, as Mister Pettigrew still has a role to play, and it would be next to impossible for him to do so from Azkaban."
Remus and Tonks exchanged a glance, and Tonks shrugged: No clue what he’s talking about, how about you?
Remus shook his head.
He turned back to Dumbledore. "So, sir…Where were we, exactly?"
Dumbledore chuckled. "Anywhere But Here is an Order stronghold - it’s where Sirius hid between his escape from the Dementors on these grounds, and when he returned to Hogsmeade to watch over Harry."
"That explains the wet dog smell," Tonks grumbled, then blushed.
"Yes, it seems our dear friend Mister Black neglected his grooming much of the time after he left the confines of Azkaban." Dumbledore pulled a fresh sheet of parchment from the stack on his desk, and poised his quill, ready to begin a new letter.
"Do you have any other questions you would like to raise at this time?" the Headmaster asked, looking at the two young people standing before him.
They shook their heads, and at Dumbledore’s dismissive wave, they turned to go.
"Oh, Remus?"
Remus turned at Dumbledore’s soft call.
"I will require your presence for a brief meeting this evening. Is half-past-six convenient for you?"
Remus nodded, but felt his heart falling - there was only one issue that would require a private conference with Dumbledore…
He stepped onto the stone staircase, fought a silent battle with himself the entire way down, though he thought he heard Dumbledore’s muffled voice murmuring as the door closed behind him: I’m sorry.
Remus wondered how he was going to handle this - how he could dismiss Tonks from his life, for her own safety - and besides that, it was likely for the best, after all - he wasn’t right for her, not at all, no matter how he felt about the situation…
She met him at the bottom of the stairwell and shot him a cheerful smile.
Damn Greyback to hell.