HP: The Hopes and Fears of All the Years (1/3)

[mrstater]

Title: The Hopes and Fears Of All the Years - 1995: So Stars Impart To Human Hearts
Author: MrsTater
Format: Fic
Rating: PG
Prompts: Christmas shopping, stars
Word Count: 10,098
Summary: An ordinary night of Christmas shopping turns into a night of discoveries when Tonks finds a book she simply must read.
Author’s Notes: This fic is the first in a trilogy which I hope to finish before the December 24 deadline, and is set after Tonks' visit to St. Mungo's Hospital in chapter twenty-two of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. We Three Kings was written and composed by John H. Hopkins, Jr. in 1857; O Little Town of Bethlehem was written by Phillips Brooks in 1867, and Hairy Snout, Human Heart is the invention of JK Rowling. I hope none of them mind the creative license I have taken with their works. Many thanks to Godricgal for listening to many ideas and for her awesome beta work.






1995: So Stars Impart To Human Hearts

"Am I to assume this is a subtle hint about another gift you'd like to see under the Christmas tree?"

Tonks, absently humming along with the Christmas carol playing over the bookshop wireless and absorbed in a book, startled at Remus' voice rasping in her ear and the sudden warm tickle of his breath on her neck. She glanced up over her shoulder, a few strands of berry red fringe falling loose from her holly leaf barrettes; her heart accelerated even more as he smiled warmly down at her. Her lips went dry; she darted out the tip of her tongue to moisten them.

Merlin, Remus was scrummy tonight. His fringe, falling over his forehead, was highlighted golden in the glow of the shop lights; his deep burgundy scarf hung loose around his neck, contrasting with a crisp white collar that peeked just ever so slightly untidily from the v-neck of his chocolate coloured jumper. The whole outfit made his eyes look oh-so-brilliantly blue as they held her unblinkingly, crinkled at the corners with his smile.

"Just browsing," Tonks replied, a little breathlessly. Closing the book, one finger tucked inside to mark her page, she turned fully toward Remus with what she was sure must be an idiotic grin. "Got Harry's books?"

Remus held up a brown paper shopping bag emblazoned with Flourish and Blotts in loopy gold lettering. His overcoat was folded over his arm. "Gift-wrapped and ready to go under the tree."

Christmas shopping had always been one of Tonks' favourite activities of the season. She loved the festive decorations in the shops, and the cosiness of the warm, crowded interiors as night settled in early outside, and the soft Christmas tunes playing over the wireless; currently a string quartet played "Three Centaurs In Forests Far," and Tonks thought its dignified, mysterious Oriental melody was the final touch on the image of Remus finishing up the last of his Christmas shopping in the bookshop. He was completely in his element, in top form. Tonks had never realised how sexy Christmas shopping could be. Not that, in the weeks since she and Remus had begun to tentatively explore their more-than-friends relationship, she hadn't discovered that Remus made everything look sexy with his casual confidence and unstudied flair.

The problem was matching him when you were decidedly without flair, and when his lopsided grin threw you even more off-balance than normal, and the heat of his gaze made your palms go all sweaty.

Willing herself to act like the Auror she was instead of the schoolgirl she'd grown out of, Tonks thought she deserved an Order of Merlin for managing to say, in spite of a pounding heart that stole her breath, "Aha! So the mystery's revealed: Remus Lupin has his Christmas presents wrapped."

He raised a sandy eyebrow. "You chase dark wizards for a living, yet your curiosity's piqued by wanting to know whether I do my own gift wrapping?"

Tonks stabbed herself in the thigh with the corner of the book as she squared her shoulders and assumed her most imposing hands-on-hips stance.

"Is that going to bruise?" Remus asked, eyes darting down to her hip.

"You're a complex character, Lupin," said Tonks, and fought against an un-imposing smile to have commanded his curious gaze once more. "Just want to know who I'm dealing with."

The eyebrow arched higher, disappearing into his fringe. Remus took a step nearer to her, the overcoat brushing her side, and asked huskily, "Is that so?"

Tonks' mouth went dry, all the moisture apparently rushing downward to her palms, and she licked her lips again.

Again, and worthy of more awards, she managed not to stammer as she met his level gaze. "It is, sir. There were two possibilities for you, and I'd have believed either. Typical bachelor, who can't cast a straight Cutting Charm to save his life and uses far too much Spellotape, or..." She allowed her lips (which seemed unlikely to be controlled anyway) to curve in what must be a coy expression, and she dropped her voice to a flirtatious pitch. "...the creative, sensitive type, who puts as much care into the wrapping as he does into selecting the gift."

"I see. Well." Remus leant in. Tonks shivered as his lips brushed her earlobe when he whispered, "It might benefit you to know that you're dealing with a wizard who had every gift for his friends wrapped, but braved the terrors of Spellotape and did yours himself."

Tonks' cheeks ached as her smile cracked into an ear-to-ear grin. "Did he?" she asked shakily, surrendering all those medals for smoothness to her hammering heart.

"Mm." Straightening up, Remus nodded down at her book in her hand. "Now, what were you so engrossed in that I managed to sneak up behind an Auror?"

Though her heart rate stayed the same, Tonks felt a subtle shift in the cause of the rapid beating with which she was all too familiar. Her throat went dry as she clutched the book at her side, suddenly nervous about what Remus would think of her choice of reading material. Ever since she'd visited Arthur at St. Mungo's that morning and seen that poor bloke, who'd just been bitten by a werewolf, in the bed opposite she hadn't been able to stop thinking about what those early days had been like for Remus. When she noticed this title in the midst of her browsing, she'd been unable to resist taking a look. But weren't these questions she ought to ask Remus herself? Or were they questions best left unasked? He was such a private man, and seemed to manage his condition so easily. She'd hate to make him feel a curiosity now they were an exclusive couple, after all her trouble to show him otherwise.

"Harry'll really like his present," Tonks said hastily. "Poor kid, these visions -- they're not exactly prophecies, are they? -- are really hard for him to deal with. He seemed right spooked today. It'll help him to learn some new defences."

"I hope so." Remus glanced down at her book. "But your--"

"My present? Merlin, you don't think it'll make Harry feel badly about Quidditch, do you? I'm always putting my foot in it with him. D'you know I actually asked him today if he'd got Seer blood?"

Tonks felt her cheeks prickle warmly at the memory of Harry's green eyes looking at her as if she'd asked him if he were some species of clairvoyant Clabbert, and how little he'd said to her after the fact.

"All my life I heard about The Boy Who Lived..." Her voice was pinched-sounding in her own ears, fingernails digging into her palm as she balled her free hand into fists. "...I'd a special box just for Harry Potter's Chocolate Frog cards, and when I finally meet him, I make a right fool of myself--"

"You're never foolish." Remus lightly pressed his fingertips to her mouth. "Harry will love the Firebolt model. He needs a proper teenager gift, and it will mean a great deal to him to know he's got people who care about him."

Hands relaxing, Tonks kissed his fingers and started to speak, but before she could, Remus said, "Just as it will mean a great deal to me to know what you're reading, so I can wrap another present for you, which I can be assured you'll like."

"Do you really want to know?" Tonks asked, withdrawing the book behind her back, and clasping it tightly in both hands. "What if it's a soppy romance novel?"

Remus smirked, and Tonks knew she hadn't helped herself a bit. She caught her breath as he leant toward her and spoke in her ear."If it's a soppy romance novel, I might assume that you're anxious to finish our shopping because you're in the mood for particular activities."

He brushed warm lips over her neck, where her pulse beat furiously, and Tonks wished to Merlin she'd wandered to the shelf of trashy novels at the back of the shop -- even if they did make her think sex was more funny than sexy, and a series of acrobatic and gymnastic feats even the most adept of witches could never pull off, much less ones who were all left feet and thumbs.

Abruptly, Remus straightened up and said, "But I know it's not a soppy romance novel."

"How? Legilimency?"

"I don't have to use Legilimency to know that particular literary genre is not found in the..." His eyes darted upward, to the garland and ribbon trimmed sign over their heads. "...Magical Creatures section, or that it most frequently comes in small paperback form."

"And how do you know so much about that..." Tonks snorted. "...particular literary genre?"

"Molly," Remus replied steadily. He patted his trouser pocket, jingling a few coins. "Keeps them in her apron and sneaks reads whilst she cooks and cleans."

Tonks blinked, then narrowed her eyes, scrutinising his features for any sign of mischief. His eyes did hold a telltale gleam of amusement, and the smile lines at the corners and around his mouth had deepened -- but that didn't mean he was pulling her leg. If he were telling the truth about Molly reading bodice rippers whilst she did housework, of course he'd find it amusing.

Then again, even though he was Remus Lupin and the epitome of cool, was he quite cool enough not to be the least bit self-conscious while talking about the smutty reading habits of someone who might as well be his mother?

"Well." Tonks returned his level stare. "I reckon that explains the seven kids. I wonder if she and Arthur role--"

Remus cleared his throat, eyes darting downward. "Your book, which does not fit that particular literary genre?"

Grinning in triumph, Tonks handed over the book. "Title grabbed me. It's anonymous."

Satisfaction sank like a leaden weight into the pit of her stomach as Remus' playfully grinning mouth drew into a tight line.

"Hairy Snout, Human Heart." He gave a sarcastic snort of laughter. "Yes, I can see how a rubbish title like that might pique morbid interest."

Tonks glowered at him through her scarlet fringe. "I think it's cute." Jutting her chin, she pushed her hair out of her eyes and secured it once more in the barrettes. "Have you read it, or are you judging the book by its title?"

"I believe it's the cover you're not supposed to judge."

"The title's on the cover."

Remus' shopping bag crinkled against her legs as he suddenly lurched forward into her. A witch juggling a red-faced, squalling baby and a number of parcels begged her pardon for bumping into him, and Remus glanced over his shoulder to with a smile and a flick of his wand that reduced the packages and tied them in a neat bundle for her.

Though Tonks wanted to throw her arms around Remus and snog him senseless in the shop to show everyone how proud and lucky she was to be this lovely gentleman's girlfriend, she couldn't let him off the hook that easily.

It was a task worthy of a Triwizard champion to fold her arms across her chest even though he remained standing so close to her that she felt his warm breath on her face, ruffling her fringe. Drawing a deep breath, she tried to ignore his oh-so-kissable mouth as she glanced down at the book in his hand, and then back up to meet his eyes.

"Well?" she asked.

The lines of his face became more pronounced. "I am familiar with it, yes," he said stiffly, then added, "though I would prefer not to be."

The last he pronounced with such a contrasting casualness that it was obvious to Tonks he was deliberately masking a true reaction. Git. Always on the lookout for an opportunity to wind her up. She couldn't believe he hadn't tacked Nymphadora on for the full effect. In that low, flirty tone that almost made her like the name. A slight disappointment rose that he hadn't used it now, when he was looking so disarmingly boyish and sexy.

Resisting these thoughts that undermined her lifelong crusade against her Christian name, Tonks protested, "Well, I think it's fantastic."

For just a moment Remus' lips hung agape, his eyes rounded, and his face flushed, but then he reassumed that stolid mask and regarded her with a raised eyebrow. "Do you, now?"

"I do."

"Why?"

"It's really well written. Compelling. Funny and melancholy and honest and sad and hopeful..." In spite of knowing that Remus would never be condescending, she couldn't stop herself colouring as she noticed his lips twisting in a smirk. "Don't laugh at me, Professor. I may not be the intellectual, but I do have pretty good taste."

"I'm not laughing!"

Tonks quirked an eyebrow, and Remus looked adorably sheepish.

"All right, I am, but only because it's rather amusing to hear adjectives like compelling paired with titles like Hairy Snout, Human Heart."

"It is compelling." Tonks snatched the book from him. "I feel like I know this bloke..." She broke off with a laugh as sudden realisation dawned about why she was staunchly defending the book against Remus' mockery. "Something about this reminds me a lot of you, actually."

She watched Remus' Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. What in Merlin's name? Remus looked as if he'd just seen his boggart.

But instantly he composed himself and said dryly, "The werewolf thing, probably."

"It's Christmas, don't be a prat," Tonks said, thumbing through the pages for that passage she'd been reading before he joined her.

"I'm not being--"

"Listen, I'll prove it to you."

"Prove that I'm being a prat?"

"Yes." Tonks rolled her eyes. "Prove the book's compelling--" With a side-long glance, she grinned. "--you great prat."

Remus grinned back, but Tonks didn't miss a slight downward twitch at the corners of his mouth, or the way his eyes darted down at the book in her hands. As though he were nervous.

Was he winding her up to cover the fact that she'd made him uncomfortable? Oh, Merlin, why hadn't she thought of it before? Remus might be acting funny because they were discussing a werewolf autobiography in public.

She glanced around the shop, making sure there at least weren't other customers in earshot. They seemed quite absorbed in searching for gifts in aisles across the way or at the cash desk, but Tonks decided to cast a Muffliato just to be safe. Remus smiled again as she tucked her wand back into the inner pocket of her cloak, but held his shoulders stiffly, clearly not put entirely at ease.

Tonks cleared her throat and read in a low tone:

"Every morning after the full moon, I always felt like an utter wretch when I watched my mother cast Reparo Charms on everything in my bedroom -- which was becoming increasingly difficult to return to order, the more times I transformed and tore the place apart. I remember vividly telling her she could chain me up in the cellar, and she looked at me as if I'd said a dirty word.

"'You're such a good son,' Mother said. 'You never did put me through the Terrible Twos, and most mothers have to live with the Ferocious Fourteens every minute of every day, and I only have to tidy up after you once a month.'

My father shrewdly advised me not to mention this to my future wife when she asks me whose genes are responsible for any Ferocious Fourteens we shall produce."

"You see?" Tonks said, looking up from the book, trying for an I-told-you-so tone, but not quite managing it due to both her laughter and the lump that had formed in her throat. "Melancholy plus funny equal compelling. And his parents just sound so much like yours--Oh, come off it!"

Remus had blanched and recoiled from her.

"Fine!" Tonks clapped the book shut. "It's sentimental and soppy. There, I said it. But d'you have to be all...male and repressed?"

"I--" Remus backed into the end of a bookshelf, and Mr. Blott glared over a customer's shoulder as a couple of large volumes thudded onto their sides.

Tonks reached around Remus to right them. "Can't you admit that you're just a tad sentimental yourself, and that you can see how I might think this sounds like something you'd write? You know -- if you actually talked about your feelings."

At his shocked and horrified expression, Tonks felt her own face mirroring it. And going very hot. The book slipped from her clammy hands, pages rustling as it landed open at the centre. She pressed her palms to her cheeks, and stumbled back from Remus, against another bookshelf -- earning another glower from Mr. Blott behind the counter.

"Oh God, Remus, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that--"

Instantly he'd moved toward her, blue eyes looking kindly down as he caught her wrists and pulled them away from her face.

"No offence taken," he said. "I think taciturn is an apt description for me." He smiled pleasantly.

Tonks returned it, weakly. He might not have been insulted, but he'd definitely avoided the subject of the book. Which, she realised, feeling the proprietor's glare on her, and hearing him clear his throat, was still lying quite untidily on the floor between her and Remus. She bent and picked it up, smoothing out the pages that had got bent in the fall with her fingertips, not trusting herself with a charm under the shopkeeper's leery stare.

"Anyway, compelling's not just my opinion," Tonks resumed the conversation. She was probably pressing her luck, but she'd always been a glutton for punishment. She opened the book to the flyleaf and pointed at the blurb. "Newt Scamander calls it 'a heartrending account of one wizard's battle with lycanthropy'."

"Magical Creatures experts aren't known for their literary knowledge."

Tonks glared. "D'you know what? I'm going to buy it."

"Buy it?" Remus looked so mystified that Tonks couldn't bring herself to laugh outright at him. But she couldn't resist getting her own back at him after all the winding up he'd done.

"So I can finish reading it. Get into your psyche." Tonks grabbed the end of his scarf and tugged at it. "Because I know you've got a broody, sentimental side."

Remus ducked his head, looking down at his shuffling feet as his fringe fell over his forehead. "You shouldn't have to read an anonymous werewolf's biography to get into my psyche."

"I'm teasing." Tonks tugged the scarf again, then stepped closer to him, raising her face to his down-turned one, and pressed a quick kiss to his chin. His hand settled on her waist as she went on. "I want to read it. It's been a long time since I found a book I liked so much." She turned to go and pay for the book, glancing back over her shoulder at Remus. "Besides, don't you think he'd appreciate the royalties?"

"I'm sure he would," said Remus quietly, and Tonks stumbled over her own feet at the tightness of his tone. It wasn't like him at all to be self-conscious about things pertaining to the state of werewolves.

"Remus..." She wheeled back to him. "What's wrong? What'veve I--?"

He caught her shoulder and steered her back toward the cash desk. "Do you really think I'm sentimental?"

Tonks was perfectly aware of his subject-changing tactic, but couldn't stop an ear-to-ear grin as the happy feeling welled up again. "Mine are the only presents you did battle with Spellotape for, aren't they?"

She presented the book to Mr. Blott, who looked asked slightly less harassed at the thought of her purchasing the book she'd manhandled. He did frown in perplexity when he saw what the book was, but sounded almost cordial when he asked if she'd like it gift-wrapped.

"What d'you think, Remus?" Tonks asked. "Should I wrap my present from me to me?"

"You could always have the card printed, From Father Christmas."

Tonks laughed, but her mirth died at Mr. Blott's decidedly not amused sniff, and his eyes darting over her shoulder to the wall clock, which indicated it was nearly closing time.

"Just a bag'll do, thanks," Tonks said quietly, and reached into her cloak for her moneybag.

Mr. Blott counted the coins she gave him, then turned to put them in the cash register. As a quill sprang from the top of the machine and wrote out the receipt on a long, narrow sheet of parchment, he commented, "It is a well written book."

"Told you so!" Tonks grinned smugly over her shoulder at Remus, who nodded once in concession -- though it was a bit undermined by his ever-so-slight eyeroll.

"It's a strange selection," Mr. Blott went on heavily, bursting Tonks' bubble. "Though it would have been stranger had you been purchasing this as a gift." He handed Tonks her receipt and her change. "I suppose those with an interest in Magical Creatures..."

A few Knuts clinked on the wood floor as Tonks, struck with a sudden idea, missed the opening of her purse.

"Actually, I can make a gift of this."

The coins Remus had crouched to pick up jangled on the floor again, and Mr. Blott, looking distinctively owlish, blinked rapidly.

"I'd like a second for myself," Tonks said. "D'you know if you've another copy?"

Eyes narrowed in an expression something like she'd insulted him, the shopkeeper flicked his wand. "Accio Hairy Snout, Human Heart."

"A gift?" Leaving his shopping back on the floor, coat draped over it, Remus stood and handed Tonks the change she'd dropped. "For whom? Hagrid?"

"I'd love that one gift-wrapped, thanks," said Tonks. She waited until Mr. Blott retreated to the back room, then turned to Remus. "For that bloke I told you about. In the Dai Llewellen ward."

Remus stared at her. "You want to give a werewolf's autobiography to the man who was bitten by a werewolf?"

Oh. dear. Merlin.

Remus hadn't been winding her up.

She'd upset him.

He'd been joking to get her off of this book thing, and she'd kept pushing it in his face.

Tonks' cheeks had never been burned by hotter flames of mortification, and yet fiery indignation flared within her.

"I thought it might be helpful." She hissed through her teeth, "I'll thank you to remember that I'm the most hopelessly socially awkward witch in Britain, and bloody tell me when I'm making a gigantic fool of myself--"

Remus' hands gripped her shoulders, pulling Tonks against him as he kissed her forehead. "You have done nothing of the sort," he said hoarsely. Tonks shivered as his long fingers slid up the curve of her neck to cup her face. His eyes were intense as they held hers. "You're the most thoughtful witch in Britain, and I'd be happy to deliver the book to St. Mungo's and tell the chap so myself." He leant in and kissed her again. "I'm sorry I made you think you'd offended me. It's not the case at all, I assure you."

Though his affection and the fervour of his words reassured Tonks, she felt dazed. "Then why are you acting so funny about this book?"

His eyes darted away. "I--"

"Here you are, Miss."

They turned just as Mr. Blott emerged from the back room, carrying the wrapped book. He looked reprovingly over his spectacles at them, and Tonks slipped from Remus' arms to make her purchase.

When Tonks turned back to Remus, she found him bundled up for the outdoors: scarf knotted, coat buttoned, gloves on. "Is that all our shopping done, then?"

Tonks nodded, and Remus picked up his shopping bag from the floor, then moved in front of her to get the door. "What do you say to hot chocolate at the Leaky?"

"Damn."

Remus paused with his hand on the door handle to give her a quizzical look.

"If I'd been reading a soppy romance," Tonks said, grinning, "you'd be asking for a nightcap at mine. I just had to pick a werewolf book. Now I've got to settle for innocent hot chocolate in public."

Remus chuckled and opened the door. The gust of frigid air that barraged them made Tonks grab his arm with both hands and press herself tight against his side.

"Hot chocolate at the Leaky's a fantastic idea,” she said, shivering.

"Though if we'd simply Apparated to yours, we wouldn't need the cocoa."

Chattering teeth prevented further conversation as they made their way down the crowded pavement as briskly as they could. In nicer weather, Tonks -- and Remus, too, she knew -- would have tolerated the cold and taken her time looking at the Christmas displays in the shop windows. Or, were it clear, she would have been keen to look at the stars -- "Three Centaurs In Forests Far" playing in Flourish and Blotts had put her in mind of them. But tonight's sky was shrouded in fog, the last waning rays of the setting sun blocked by the low, winter clouds. No, drinking a hot chocolate at the Leaky with Remus really was the thing to do.

As Tonks trotted to keep up with his longer stride, the books in her shopping bag thumped against her side, reminding her of the interrupted conversation in the bookshop. What explanation had Remus been about to give for his peculiar behaviour?

The Leaky Cauldron was packed. Remus sent Tonks with their shopping bags to find a table whilst he ordered their hot chocolates. Remarkably, she quickly found a narrow booth by the fireplace at the back. It hadn't been cleaned since the last customer left it, but Tonks cast a quick Scourgify. She eyed the cleared table critically. Definitely not up to snuff for her mother or Molly, but certainly more than good enough for Tom, the barman.

She slid into the corner seat, and heard the familiar strains of "O Diagon In London Town" drifting over the tavern din. It had been one of her favourites since she was a little girl -- and even more so since she'd got her very own flat here when she started Auror training -- and she couldn't help but sing along softly. As she sang, her gaze roamed across the smoky tavern, taking in the witches and wizards who'd stopped in for a hot toddy or bowl of stew after a day of Christmas shopping. Their chairs were surrounded by bags and parcels; as they ate, many pored over rolls of parchment which were, presumably, checklists. And of course at the bar sat the tavern regulars, some who seemed too engrossed in their hot toddies to notice that it was almost Christmas, while others sang along with the wireless -- and given their rowdy laughter, Tonks assumed they were singing the randy schoolboy words.

When her gaze locked with Remus', who was standing at the back of a long queue at the bar, Tonks stopped singing. The lopsided grin he wore was enough to make her go weak at the knees, but it was the accompanying look in his eyes -- something about it told her he'd been staring at her since he took his place -- which made her sure that if ever she were to start having equilibrium issues whilst seated, now was the time. But she wasn't able to identify the expression before Remus grinned wider, and gave a little wave and wink.

God, he looked dishy tonight... The outdoor clothing had come off, and her eyes travelled from the beautiful long-fingered hands up the arm his overcoat was draped over, to his lovely, kissable neck from which his burgundy scarf dangled. Tonks desperately wanted to go keep him company so everyone would see she was the lucky witch he was buying hot chocolate for, but she didn't suppose it was in the spirit of the holiday to reserve their table by rolling out the "Under Auror Investigation: Keep Away" tape.

Not trusting herself to keep watching him without sacrificing the table by the fire, Tonks pulled off her gloves, took out her new book, leant back against the wall, and stretched her legs out on the bench.

She didn't think she'd be able to focus on it with all the tavern noise, the Christmas carols on the wireless that made her want to sing, and Remus looking so sexy just a few yards away, but once again the narrative captured her attention. Soon she was aware of nothing but the sensation of being caught up in a story that was very familiar, giggling or murmuring to herself as though the anecdotes were being related to her by a dear friend.

"Can't put it down, hmm?"

The low, slightly hoarse voice was accompanied by a clunk on the table. Tonks looked up, dazed, to find Remus sitting opposite her, sliding a mug across the rough wooden surface. There was a lilt of amusement in his voice and a bemused curve at the corners of his mouth, which Tonks was rather put out with herself for not being sure what they indicated.

He'd said in Flourish and Blotts that she hadn't offended him, and she believed him --

-- but something was off.

Tonks wasn't about to put the book away and let this drop. Remus' condition -- or rather, its affect on his life -- couldn't be ignored. She didn't want to ignore it. What Remus was made him who he was. She cared a great deal for who he was -- and she suspected, did something much more than care; surely it was only right she care about what he was, as well? Their relationship, which was just beginning to resemble her dreams by hinting at something more than a simple romance, never would do if they didn't acknowledge every part and allow it its proper place.

"Thanks." Tonks nodded to the steaming mug of hot chocolate as she shifted to sit the right way in the booth. Laying the book prominently on the table, she wrapped her hands around the cup and held it close to her chest. "No, I really can't put it down. It's a fantastic read."

She watched him drink his hot chocolate as she sipped hers.

"I can see how it might make you a bit...uncomfortable," Tonks went on, setting down her mug and reaching for Remus hand that rested on the table. "I promise I'll try not to drive you mental by running on about it..."

Remus squeezed her hand and smiled. "Some people would say I'm quite mental enough on my own, so that oughtn't dissuade you from running on."

Encouraged, Tonks pulled her hand away and picked up her book. "Can I read you just one more bit, then?"

"Just one more," said Remus with a sigh of mock exasperation.

Tonks eagerly turned to the page she'd been reading just before. Her chest constricted, and her heart accelerated as it used to when Professor McGonagall had called on her in Transfiguration class.

"I cannot tell you how many times my mother said, 'Don't ever let anyone treat you as less than a man just because you've got a hairy snout one night a month. You've always got a human heart.'

"She could have made a fortune going into the werewolf greeting card business."

Remus gave the slightest puff of a laugh into his hot chocolate, and Tonks, confidence bolstered, read on:

"It was the gift of dignity which my parents so graciously bestowed again and again, doing everything within their power not to make me feel like an animal, even on that one night a month when I changed into one with the most feral urge of any living creature. They taught me to see the humour in my situation, and even to laugh.

"The only way my parents ever failed me was in not teaching me to laugh at the outbreak of pimples that would inevitably greet me when I woke on the day of a party, or the screech of my changing voice when I finally worked up the courage to ask a pretty witch for a date. Teenagers, apparently, are more baffling creatures than werewolves. Another thing my father advised me not to mention to my wife when I am a parent of teenagers."

Tonks couldn't read any more for laughing, but soon stopped, horribly aware that Remus hadn’t emitted so much as a chuckle.

Wanting to check his reaction, but not quite able to meet his gaze, Tonks darted her eyes up through her red hair and saw his index finger tracing the rim of his cup. A self-conscious gesture.

Her gaze wandered upward to his mouth, lips curved downward, not in a frown, but unsmiling. Still further up, his cheeks were tinged with slight colour; Tonks' own warmed in response, though she hadn't the faintest idea what was going on. He'd invited her to read, he'd said he was familiar with the book...If only she could see his eyes -- but they were hidden by his fringe.

"I just love his optimism," Tonks said, her forefinger mirroring his action.

Remus looked up at her then, his head tilted slightly, eyes asking her to go on.

Not sure what exactly he expected her to say, Tonks blurted the first thought that entered her mind. "And I love his parents."

Remus sat up very straight in his chair. Tonks felt very small in hers, as if she'd shrunk down doll-sized and were peering up at a giant's table.

"There ought to be more people like them in the world," she added quickly, voice registering at an unnaturally high pitch in her ears.

For a moment, Remus' hand loomed over the table as he picked up his cocoa mug. His eyes were faraway, and fond, as he took a long drink. Was he thinking of his parents, Tonks wondered? She watched his Adam's apple bob.

"Yes," said Remus quietly, meeting her eyes. "The world certainly could use more people like them."

Tonks fingered the spine of the book, Anonymous embossed where a name should have been. "I wonder what this bloke's doing now."

The contemplative look filled Remus' eyes again, this time laced with melancholy. Tonks mentally flogged herself. Of course Remus knew what the chap was doing now. With the Umbridge laws, he very likely was in the same employment straits as Remus. And certainly he didn't have the Order to keep him occupied.

Did he still have family? Friends? A girlfriend or wife? Before Tonks met Remus, she'd thought all werewolves lived on the fringes of society, part of neither the Wizarding nor Muggle world.

Did Remus know any other werewolves? Did he think there was any way to help them under the current political climate? She'd seen them arrested and thrown in Azkaban for petty thievery, heard Aurors grumbling about the procedures and precautions and dealing with the Werewolf Capture Unit. Tonks had seen mug shots and pitied them. In school she'd been taught to fear monsters like Fenrir Greyback, but these men and women didn't seem fearsome. They were crude and ignorant, but that was because they were uneducated, cast out, cut off. Could Remus, having always lived among wizards, despite their prejudices, relate to others at all? She couldn't bring herself to call them his kind, because she couldn't imagine him without his dignity, as the object of pity.

"Well," Remus' voice broke in, "luckily for this chap, he's got a book for royalties."

"Mr. Blott acted as if it wasn't exactly a hot seller." Tonks sighed and slumped forward, elbows on the table and chin in her hands, hearing the bookshop keeper's words about strange topic and odd gift in her mind as she nursed the drink. What kind of people would want to read about werewolves? Surely the book had an audience.

Suddenly Tonks' spine snapped erect, and she sloshed cocoa as she brought her mug down on the table. "Merlin, Remus, it could be popular. Top of the Witch Weekly Bestseller List, I reckon."

His sandy eyebrows disappeared into his fringe, but only for a second. He drank his hot chocolate, then his lips twitched into his mild smile as he dabbed the corners with a paper napkin. "I'm sure the author, whoever he is, would appreciate your enthusiasm, but I am equally sure his literary agent would have exhausted every possible market in which the book could have potential success." He shook his head, the lines around his eyes becoming a little more noticeable. "No, Tonks, I cannot imagine many people at all care for werewolf autobiographies--"

"If Gilderoy Lockhart can force his plagiarised rubbish on Defence students," Tonks said, picking up her mug again and shaking it in front of Remus' nose, sloshing a little more cocoa onto the table, "then why isn't this book required reading?"

Again, Tonks seemed to have caught Remus completely off his guard, but again he recovered his wits before she could puzzle out just what the hell his problem was. Other than being a prat and making her reconsider her career choice, of course; she had to be a crap Auror if she couldn't even figure out her boyfriend.

"I'll trust from your earlier use of the word compelling..." Remus paused for another a drink. "...that you're not comparing the two authors."

As she rolled her eyes, Tonks decided the best tactic was to ignore him. If she could keep on making her rational points, she would eventually wear him down enough to get a long enough look at what he was trying to hide.

"All people ever learn about werewolves is how to recognize them," she said. "All they ever teach us is to be afraid of werewolves. But they..." He caught her gaze. "But you," she corrected. "You're people." She felt her passion mounting as she picked up the book and stuffed it back in her shopping back with the wrapped copy. "You know, I've half a mind to buy up all of them and send them to everyone I know for Christmas.

"That's a thought," said Remus. "You would, of course, include Dolores Umbridge?"

Tonks gave a snort of laughter. "That'd be a lump of coal in her stocking, wouldn't it?"

She turned back to him, and her breath caught at the way he was looking at her. His eyes were so brilliantly blue with an expression of...what was it? Delight? No -- more than delight. Was he dazzled? But she'd done nothing dazzling. Dazed, more likely. Except there was something very much like admiration tingeing his expression -- though Tonks couldn't imagine why.

Whatever it was, he'd never looked at her this way before.

Like he was touching her, inside and out, and...

His feelings for her had changed.

"What's that look mean?" she whispered, wondering if she'd ever looked at him like that.

"It means..."

Remus reached across the table and took her hand, his thumb stroking hers. Tonks shivered. His eyes darkened as they held her. "Three Centaurs In Forests Far" was playing again on the wireless, and somehow its mystery made it a romantic tune.

"It means there ought to be more people like you in the world."

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed each of her knuckles, so tenderly; then each of her fingertips, lingeringly. If Tonks had been disappointed by the niggling thought that Remus hadn't quite told her the full truth about the meaning of his expression, then these kisses drove away every trace of it.

And he hadn't stopped looking at her that way.

It was too much. Her insides quaked, and she thought she was in very real danger of losing her balance whilst sitting down, after all.

She let her eyes drift over his shoulder, out the window. Through the grime and steam, she made out patch of blue-black sky in the midst of the clouds.

"Oh, Remus!" She jumped up, banging her knees on the underside of the table. "Let's have a stroll under the stars!"

"What about the cold?" Remus asked, though he got to his feet as well, and began to button his coat. "Isn't that why we're in here, drinking hot chocolate?"

"Yep. But I'm all warmed up now."

They emerged from the Leaky Cauldron bantering and laughing, breath forming clouds in the crisp air and mingling with the fog that hung about the crooked corners. The clouds in the sky had parted even more than Tonks had seen through the tavern window. Silver stars spangled the sky, twinkling like fairy lights, as if the whole world were decorated for Christmas.

"Song stuck in your head?" Remus asked.

Tonks hadn't realised till then that she'd been singing. "It's been following me everywhere tonight."

She tucked a strand of hair back into her barrette, then caught Remus' hand tightly, swinging it as they made their way down the streets, which were considerably less crowded with shoppers and vendors than they had been when they'd walked to the Leaky Cauldron, just before sunset. Unable to help herself, she sang,

"Three Centaurs in forests far
Upward turned our gazes are
Leo, Serpens
Corvus, Melins
Inner eyes on the stars. O-oh--!"

She abruptly fell silent, aware that Remus' face was turned down to her as they walked -- looking at her that way again. Tonks couldn't look at him, afraid of what she wanted to see, afraid of what she might not see. But Remus' eyes never left her face as he slowed their pace.

"Why did you stop?" he asked. "Please, go on."

"Only if you sing with me. I feel ridiculous, singing alone in the middle of the street." She realised they were just passing Gringott's.

Remus stopped walking and tugged at her hand, pulling her to face him. "You've no reason to feel ridiculous. You've a lovely voice."

He'd let the shopping bag slide into the crook of his elbow, freeing his other hand. For just a moment his gloved fingers pressed hers, then both hands slid up over her wrists, along her forearms, drawing her closer to him so that his coat brushed her knees as he finally settled his hands on her waist. How did his touch still work its tingling magic on her with thick layers of winter clothing between them?

"Lovely when I'm not screaming along with the Weird Sisters?" Tonks managed to ask, though not with quite the amount of sauciness she'd hoped for.

Remus chuckled, warm breath steamy against her mouth as he just touched his lips to hers. "Go on, please?" he asked, quietly, against her mouth. "I like listening to you."

Tonks turned and found herself linking arms with him to resume their walk through Diagon Alley, and surprised herself by clearing her throat to continue singing the carol. She vowed never to let Remus know that the particular look he'd been giving her tonight, and the accompanying husky tone, held as much power over her as the Imperius Curse might.

"Star of wisdom,
Star of sight,
Star our path doth bring to light.
Future reading,
Forward leading,
Guide us with thy seeing light."

"I told you," said Remus, halting again as they reached the side street down which Tonks' flat lay. "Lovely."

He swept her hair back from her forehead and kissed her. His lips were cold, but she wasn't sure that was the cause of the shiver that coursed down her spine.

Remus slipped behind her, and Tonks heard the shopping back rustle as he set it on an iron bench before his arms slipped around her waist. He drew her firmly against his chest, hands clasped at her middle; Tonks covered them with her own, smiling at the contrast of his sensible brown leather gloves against her festive red and green striped ones, then looked up at the stars the clouds had obscured the past few nights.

They were so bright; the flickering street lamps were unnecessary. Tonks was glad the lamps were lit -- they lent to the romantic Christmas ambiance. But the stars...Merlin, they were brilliant. She understood why her relatives were so obsessed with the names of them, and why Seers turned to them, and why there were so many Christmas songs about them. The stars ran their courses year after year, century after century, and always would. The world might change -- it was changing, now -- but the stars remained the same no matter what happened below on earth. Their eternal beauty was a comfort.

Remus' chin, barely rough with a day's growth of beard, rubbed against her cheek. "What do the stars show your inner eye?"

With all her usual aplomb for having the most inappropriate reaction to a given situation, Tonks, despite part of her screaming at her that Remus' scruff and flirtation were dead sexy, snorted at the phrase inner eye. As if that weren't enough, she realised that Remus had, unwittingly, presented her with the perfect opportunity to get to the bottom of all his funny business.

Never one to resist the chance at impersonation, Tonks turned in his encircling arms, morphed her hair into a wild, frizzy mane, and conjured a pair of spectacles that were sure to magnify her eyes and make her look like an insect.

"Oh, Merlin..." Remus' arms fell to his sides as he laughed and stepped back from Tonks. "You know I spent my year at Hogwarts running away from Sibyll..."

Tonks raised her hands and waved them around in the airy manner of a seer, and adopted the breathy tones of the Hogwarts Divination professor.

"A cold, void awaits you. No kisses if you do not let the pink-haired Auror in." She leant a little closer to him, morphing her legs so that her nose touched his. The thick glasses obscured her vision, but Remus seemed to be going cross-eyed. She went in for the kill. "Why have you behaved so strangely about that book?"

Tonks stepped back from him, folded her arms across her chest, expecting him to make up excuses, or change the subject altogether.

Instead Remus, red in the face, blurted, "Because I'm Anonymous."

Tonks was so astonished that she reverted to the morph she'd worn before the Trelawney one.

"You're...?"

She yanked off the glasses, and blinked rapidly to help her eyes adjust to the change.

"You're Anonymous? You...D'you mean...?"

Her eyes darted to the shopping bag still looped over her elbow, settling on the corner of the book just visible through the tissue paper.

"You wrote...?"

She looked up.

Remus nodded.

"No. You're joking."

"I know it sounds like the sort of thing I'd joke about," said Remus, stepping closer to her, laying his hands on her shoulders, "but I assure you..."

"It's not your story! The bloke was bitten when he was a teenager, and he never mentioned Hogwarts..."

"I couldn't tell my story. It would have incriminated Dumbledore in allowing a Dark Creature to attend school without the Board of Governors' vote. And much as I wanted to express myself, I...I couldn't be outed."

Logical as it sounded, as much as it explained Remus' strange, embarrassed behaviour since he'd found her reading the book, it was preposterous. Half-laughing that Remus had thought up such a brilliant bluff (had he been playing her since Flourish and Blotts, or only just now?), yet slightly irritated that he thought she might honestly buy it, Tonks delved into her bag for the book and drew it out. She nearly tore the jacket as she opened to the title page.

"This was published in 1975. You were only--"

"Sixteen."

Remus glanced over his shoulder and seated himself on the bench behind them. He looked a little shaky. Tonks had to hand it to him; he was a marvellous actor.

"I wrote it over summer holidays," he went on. "James and Sirius and Peter went on holiday with the Potters, and I could not go with them, for obvious reasons." Rather than the regret any other man's face would have shown, a fond smile crossed Remus' face. "They'd just learnt Animagery, and...well I missed them very much, and boredom apparently makes me sentimental..." He folded his hands on his lap, and looked up at her. "So I started writing a book. Fictionalised. Dumbledore helped me get it published."

Tonks stood gawping at him for a moment, studying him, searching his face, obscured by shadows and changing in the flickering lamplight, for the telltale sign that this was a great Marauder prank. Only not so very great, because she would not be caught in it.

But Remus' eyes regarded her steadily, reflecting the starlight.

Legs no longer trustworthy, Tonks collapsed onto the bench beside him and ran a hand through her hair.

"You're bloody telling the truth. You really..." A shriek of laughter pushed itself from her lungs, startling a lone witch closing up shop, as Tonks heard her own voice telling Remus how the anonymous werewolf author's writing style reminded her of him. She poked him playfully in the shoulder. "I knew it sounded like you!"

Remus folded his arms and hunched his shoulders sulkily. "I find it somewhat distressing that you can recognise my voice in an emotional teenager's."

Tonks laughed again. "And you do realise you look very much like an emotional teenager just now?"

He glared, but his eyes twinkled, and finally he gave in to low chuckles and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, hugging her snugly against his side. Tonks turned slightly more into him as her arm slid under his, around his back, and the other draped across his waist. As his other hand moved to rest on her arm, she leant her cheek against the worn, soft fabric of his coat, loving the rumble of laughter in his chest.

They remained seated like that, embracing one another, for some time after their laughter faded away. Occasionally Remus' hand drifted up from her shoulder to caress her hair, or he bent his head to nuzzle his cheek against it and kiss the festive red locks. Tonks assumed that since he was being so affectionate, he must have got over his initial embarrassment at his girlfriend discovering the book he'd written at age sixteen...Did that mean the subject was open for discussion? There was so much she had wanted to say and ask before she'd known, and now that she did know...

"I always wondered how you were getting by between jobs," Tonks said, without thinking, and then immediately covered her face with her hands and groaned into her fingers. "Oh, bloody Merlin's beard! What I said in the shop about royalties..."

"Yes, the royalties from your two purchases paid for our drinks."

His tone was dry, but Tonks, knowing it most likely was not that great an exaggeration, made a strangled scream into her palms. "And those were your parents I was going on about..."

For some reason -- or rather, due to utter lack of reason -- it seemed like the time to pull her hands away from her face and look at Remus. She actually began to breathe again when she saw him smiling, a tender look in his eyes as though this comment had pleased him very much.

Sitting up a little straighter, Tonks pressed one hand against his chest. "I wish I could have met them. They really sound like they were wonderful people."

"Have you any idea how much it means to me that you could infer that just from reading my silly book? " Remus' hand moved to clasp hers. He squeezed it, and looked her in the eyes. "I wish they could have met you, too."

Tonks' heart beat wildly at the slightly -- consciously -- altered wording of his agreement. His lips, curved in that private smile only she ever had the pleasure of seeing, looked so inviting, but she restrained herself from crushing her lips against his and snogging him senseless in the middle of Diagon Alley.

"Your mum wouldn't be put off by your pink haired girlfriend?" she asked.

"You're not pink at the moment." Remus tugged at one of the festive scarlet strands. "It might have unsettled her a bit more than me shedding on the carpet."

"All right then, you great prat, I think that's quite enough--"

"Of the cold?" Remus interrupted, removing his arm from around her as he got to his feet. "I agree."

He offered a hand up to her and, shopping bags once more in tow, they resumed their walk, turning down the narrower street that led to Tonks' flat. She wondered if she offered him a nightcap, he would stay. She was about to flirt with him and say she might have a smutty paperback lying about somewhere -- or could transfigure one of her old Auror novels into one -- when another thought distracted her.

"Are you going to let the bloke we're giving it to in on your little authorial secret?"

She looked up at him, and to her surprise, Remus actually wore an expression that indicated he was considering her question.

"It sort of undermines the encouragement I'd like to give him about leading a fairly normal life in society, doesn't it," he asked, "if I give him a book I haven't followed up on since I was sixteen?"

"Why don't you write a revised version?" Tonks suggested, eagerly. "Now you've been outed, you can publish under your own name, and after the whole Hogwarts scandal, you're pretty famous, so it'd be sure to sell--"

Immediately, Tonks reached out, as though to catch the words she wished unsaid. Bloody hell! She never thought she'd be able to make a worse suggestion than the time she'd broken yet another of Professor Snape's potion phials, and she told him he ought to consider keeping a supply of plastic ones on hand for when she was in his class. She tripped over a pile of rubbish in the street and flailed for balance, but Remus' hand held hers firmly, and kept her upright.

He smiled down into her eyes. "Including a chapter entitled 'Werewolves In Love'?"

Tonks stopped dead in her tracks, hand slack in Remus'.

A chapter entitled...

Had he really just said...

...in love?

No -- she'd been stupid, and clumsy. He was teasing her. He...

...was looking at her that way again.

He was smiling, all over, mouth and eyes.

"You..." Tonks' voice cracked as her heart lodged in her throat, and she could only manage a whisper. "You're in love...with me?"

Remus ducked his head, fringe falling over his forehead in that way that made him look oh-so-sixteen, and made Tonks wonder how he'd not had a chapter on werewolves in love in the original book.

He reached for her hands. "Why else would I wrap your Christmas presents myself?"

Heart turning over, Tonks laughed. "I should've known."

"So should I."

Remus brought her hands up, curving them toward his chest, and bent to drop fleeting kisses on them.

"I think I've been in love with you for some time," he said, between kisses. "Maybe since I met you..." He looked up at her, eyes locking. "But I only realised tonight, when you were reading aloud. You're...so passionate. And so wonderful."

His hands released hers, and she immediately missed his warm touch, except it was warmer as his palms cupped her face, and he leant his forehead against hers as he murmured, "I love you. So very much."

He moved to kiss her mouth, but Tonks held back just as she felt the barest touch of his lips.

"I don't think taciturn's such an apt description for you. And...I love you, too."

When he leant in again to kiss her, Tonks did not pull away. Not just because his lips, his tongue, his fingers on her face rendered her totally incapable of movement, but because she felt like she was in a dream. Had Remus Lupin really just declared his love, because they'd gone Christmas shopping and she picked up a random book to read, which turned out to have been written by him twenty years ago?

Tonks pulled her mouth from his, and delved into her shopping bag once more. She held the book out to a stunned, breathless, and frustrated looking Remus. "Will you autograph it for me?"

He laughed, looked down, shoved his hands into his deep coat pockets, and nudged a loose cobble with his toe. "Don't be silly."

"I'm not being silly," Tonks said so vehemently that Remus looked up again. "You may not be proud of this, but I'm proud of you."

For just a second she looked into his bright, intense eyes, and then his hands were gripping her arms firmly as he kissed her deeply, thoroughly, slowly. Tonks felt the love he'd professed in his kiss -- Merlin she felt it, all the way down to her toes, just like that look she'd seen earlier. How had she not recognised...? She'd been too wrapped up in trying to figure out his reaction to the book, too concerned with her own missteps. Well, she was glad for every one of them tonight, since it had brought her this. And Remus' low murmurs and moans as she kissed him back told her he was, too.

After one final, soft longing kiss, Remus gently prised the book from Tonks' hands, took a quill from his coat pocket, and turned away to write. As he did, Tonks bounced on her toes, both in an effort to keep warm and because there was simply too much joy bubbling up within her not to bounce.

Remus turned back to her, and Tonks laughed as he presented her with the book -- wrapped in shiny gold paper with a red velvet ribbon.

"My apologies for not battling Spellotape," Remus said, "but I had to make do with Conjuring."

"Do I have to save it for Christmas?"

"From Tonks to Tonks, remember?"

She tore away the paper, which Remus vanished with a disinterested flick of his wand as he kept his eyes on her, and then opened the book. On the flyleaf, Remus' meticulous script read:

"To Nymphadora, who holds my human heart in her hands."

Tonks wondered that she didn't start bouncing again, especially as she read the closing:

"With love,"

But the signature kept her rooted firmly to the pavement.

"Anonymous"

Tonks looked up sharply at his face, muscles twitching as he held back laughter. "Why you--git!"

"Tap your wand to it," Remus said.

Tonks arched a sceptical eyebrow at him, but did as he instructed, and muttered, "Revelo."

Underneath the words With love, the signature Anonymous morphed into the signature, Remus J. Lupin x.

Tonks laughed because of course a seasoned prankster like Remus wouldn't be straightforward about owning up to a lifelong secret of this magnitude. Though her heart also constricted with a pang that it yet remained a secret from the world at large, Tonks thrilled that he'd chosen to share it with her.

This book, which Remus had written when his dear friends and family had filled his fearful young heart with hopes and dreams, had, after so many years of loneliness and hardship, rekindled hope again tonight. Because she'd stumbled upon it completely by accident. Or maybe not. Maybe fate had led her to it. Grinning sidelong at Remus, Tonks gave in to the ridiculous urge to burst out in song in the middle of the street.

"O Diagon, in London town, where wizard folk reside,
Above thy dark and crooked streets, the guiding stars do shine.
On wizard hearts they shine down with all-foreseeing light,
The hopes and fears of all the years revealed above tonight."

Joy bubbled inside Tonks, making her insides dance at the prospect that Remus saw in her the possibility of realising that wished-for future.

"Mysterious, mysterious, the gift of Sight is giv’n;
So Stars impart to human hearts the prophecies of heav’n.
No wand may stay their coming, but in this present grim,
Where brave souls will accept them still, that bless'd hope enters in."

"Merry Christmas, Nymphadora," Remus said, pulling her and the book close and kissing her breathless. "And if the future does bring that revised version, it'll be dedicated to you."

The End