Into the Sunset Part II
Title: Into the Sunset (Part 2 of 4)
Authour:freakinwinky
Prompt:#5 "I like it when you're quiet"
Word Count:2,324
Raiting PG-13
SummaryRemus and Tonks come to realize that more stands in the way of their marriage than ministry policies, Voldemort or even Remus' still present doubts. (Begins nearly two weeks before Deathly Hallows begins and follows through Bill and Fleur's wedding).
Warnings references to (imagined) non-con situations, adult language
Authors Note This portion was probably the most difficult of the series to write. Working with a Character who is sort of OC but not (As he does "appear" in DH) is always a challenge. I wanted to make his voice and pressence as believable and canon as possible without restricting myself too much. I hope I've acomplished that and that you will read and enjoy. Because the last two will be from Tonks and Remus's perspective (respectively) I predict that they will be much easier and, therefore, come much more quickly. Enjoy!
In my dreams, I make love to her.
Perhaps “making love” is not the best way to put it. The term implies sentimentality and gentility neither of which have any place in my dreams of her.
When I dream of her I fuck her, I take her sometimes violently.
This is very strange. I have lusted after women before and made love to a great many of them. I do not like to boast in general but I, Albert Runcorn, have made more than a few conquests; beautiful women, all of them. But none like this one.
There is something different about her. So much so that she has firmly implanted herself into my subconscious refusing to leave me in peace.
This began nearly three weeks ago. I had seen the girl before that time of course but I had never taken any special notice of her.
She was a clumsy young auror with a slightly chubby build, wild hair colors and clothing styles. The body was less than perfect obviously, but it was the hair and clothing that put me off of her at first.
Her demeanor suggested rebellion. I do not like female rebels. I prefer my women soft, yielding and silent. They are known as “the gentle sex” for a reason after all.
But then, after Albus Dumbledore’s funeral, when she returned to the Ministry with the rest of her squad, I began to see her in a different light.
She came into my office just as I was settling into some paper work for Madame Umbridge. I did not recognize her at first.
Her hair was long, straight and jet black. It shone beautifully when the light hit it. She had lost a significant amount of weight(I have always preferred my women thin), her complexion was pale and made her skin look soft and delicate.
But it was her eyes that caught me. I had never before noticed the spark in those large brown eyes which carried just the tiniest catch of green. Her eyes looked straight into mine and sent a thrill through my stomach and chest.
“How may I help you miss?” I asked after clearing my throat
“Robbards would like to see you in his office as soon as possible,”
I had heard her speak before, and it was her voice, not her face or eyes, which told me that this was indeed the same young Auror I would not have spared a glance to one year ago.
“I see. And did he tell you what he wished to see me about?”
“He said he had some issues with the Ministers security,”
Her voice was slightly grating; still, it was quite pleasurable to imagine what she might sound like under…different circumstances.
“Ah. I thought it might be that again. Tell him I’ll be up in twenty minutes time.”
She nodded and began to step out.
“Nymphadora,” I called her back.
“Yes?” She asked pursing her lips in an odd manner as though irritated.
“I’m very glad to see that you’ve returned safely.”
“Thanks sir.” She said straightening up a bit drawing my attention to her breasts. They were small, but I did not mind that so much. As a Metamorphmagus, could she not change them? I smiled at the thought.
“I do hope to see more of you in the future.”
She said nothing but gave me a nod and a confused half smile as she left the room. Her eyes met mine again and, for a brief moment, flashed with light and fire.
That was the first night I dreamed of her.
Her hair was as long and black as it had been that day; it felt like silk when I ran my fingers through it. She tried to fight me at first. Being much stronger than she, I was able to subdue her easily.
However, I was surprised to find that her resistance aroused me. It thrilled me to watch the fire in her eyes burn at first with hate, then confussion, and finally with willful and passionate submission.
I was prepared to dismiss it when I awoke the next morning with a raging hard-on. Perhaps I would have, had I not dreamed of her again the next night, and the next night, and the next.
Finally, when it all became too much, I went to Robbards and made the request. He was all too happy to oblige. Apparently the girl had a habit of sticking her nose in places it did not belong and was proving rather troublesome to some of the ministry’s top officials.
Gawain was quite happy to put her somewhere where she ‘would not cause too much trouble.’
I immediately set her to paper filing in my office where I could keep a close and consistent watch over her.
Over the next week, I worked alone with her for so long, and so frequently that, at any point, I could have locked the door to my office and taken her with no questions asked.
But I have learned a thing or two over the years about tact. Any animal can pin a female down and have a quick rut with her.
Ensuring that the thing is done properly takes skill, brains and craft.
I chatted the girl up quite a bit, called her attractive, took an interest in her. She turned out to be much more talkative than I usually like. But every time she spoke, I was reminded of the dreams and the way her low graiting voice moaned my name in them, so I listened to her with rapped attention.
I created extra reports to file so that I could ask her to stay late on certain nights. This, apparently, created a problem for her.
She claimed that she had no husband or boy friend, no sick relatives to tend to. Yet, each night I insisted that she stay late, she became flustered and distracted in her work glancing up at the clock every few seconds as though she had somewhere important to be.
It puzzled me. I asked several of my associates to keep a close watch on her as she left the ministry each evening.
No matter how they tried, they could not track her once she apparated out of the ministry. It was impossible to tell exactly where she had apparated to.
I had all but given up hope when, one day, a colleague of mine who owns a shop in Hogsmede informed me that he watched the girl apparate to a point near his store each night and then hurry into the Hogshead inn and pub across the street.
He could not go into more detail, even when pressed. Apparently he and the Pub’s owner are not on the friendliest of terms and my source was quite hesitant to enter the establishment.
If anything more was to be learned, it would have to be learned by me.
It would have been fairly easy to follow the girl now that I knew where she was likely to go. That, however, did not feel quite…sportsmanlike I suppose would be the best term. I had to give her the opportunity to come clean on the subject herself.
So, on the night I planned to follow her, I kept her after office hours to file unnecessary paperwork “for the Minister.”
“Going out tonight, Tonks?” I asked her as she dropped several of the reports she was holding and bent downward to pick them up, (giving me a very decent view in the process).
“Not that I know about,” She said casually. “I’ll probably just go home and curl up with a cup of tea and the wireless.”
“I hadn’t pegged you for the type of girl who spends her evenings at home alone,” I moved closer to her and she turned toward the set of drawers near my desk.
“You seem to be the sort of girl that men would fall all over themselves to get to,” my hand was close enough to her arse that I could brush against it without being too obvious. If she noticed the contact, she did not allow it to unsettle her.
“Yeah, well, just goes to show you…” Her voice trembled only slightly with a nervous energy. I pressed closer to her, she stepped away.
“Now,” she said quickly, “did you want these files in the bottom drawer with the ones that go to the minister directly or would you rather-“
“Nymphadora,” I touched her wrist moving even closer so that our bodies were, very nearly pressed together. She did not attempt to move, but stiffened in her stance and when I looked to her face, she wore a closed expression.
“The files can wait until tomorrow,” I gently took the files from her hand and set them on my desk. She took one long breath then moved to her bag and began to gather her things.
I followed.
“I feel Nymphadora, as though I have been working you too hard these past few days. I would very much like to make it up to you,”
She continued to hastily set her bag together all the while glancing up at the clock behind my desk.
“If you’re not doing anything this evening,” I continued advancing on her, “I would be more than happy to treat you to diner.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. Not tonight,” Tonks said strapping her bag over her shoulder and moving as quickly as she could to the doorway.
“I’m really tired. If it’s all the same, I’d rather just go home and get some sleep.”
She did not appear at all tired. Indeed her body twitched with anticipation and an excited energy lit her already radiant cheeks.
I deeply considered pressing the matter. In the end however, I decided it would be best to continue as planned.
“Perhaps some other time then miss Tonks,” I said to her.
“Yeah, sure,” she answered though she seemed quite non committal.
“I’ll see you tomorrow Mr. Runcorn.”
“Good night Nymphadora.”
I watched her leave. Her bobbed, wavy hair (bright red tonight) bounced brightly as she walked toward the apparition point.
I waited nearly 15 minutes before apparating to a corner alley I knew of just outside the pubs main window.
In the shadows I was able to see everything without being detected.
I had prepared myself for several different scenarios. It could be as simple as a meeting of the underground rebel group “The Order of the Phoenix” (I would not be surprised if she were a member). She could have a young, handsome but poor secret lover.
I had prepared myself for a great many things. What I had not prepared myself for was Remus Lupin.
I knew him by sight and reputation as the Werewolf who had taught at Hogwarts for one year before being revealed.
Lupin, though obviously poor, was not young or handsome or romantic in any way that I could measure. He was a good few years older than me with shaggy graying hair and several unsightly scars along his face and arms. Hardly worth noticing.
Yet, I stood in disbelief as I watched Nymphadora Tonks (her hair turned back to that unsightly shade of pink), run to Lupin beaming at him as though he were Merlin incarnate.
I watched her sneak behind him, whisper into his ear.
I tried to wrap my mind around this new idea. Remus Lupin, a half breed, a Werewolf, was being attended to by my beautiful young assistant.
This was far more than strange or puzzling. I felt a new emotion stir in my stomach and chest as I continued to watch them. Even now I am not certain that I would be able to put a name to what I felt.
Perhaps it was simply surreal to watch fragments of my nightly dreams play out in front of me; another man in my place. Perhaps I was feeling my first pangs of jealousy.
This idea was foreign to me. In my other encounters with women, I had always been content to send them back to their husbands or lovers once I had finished with them.
I was most disconcerted to realize that I did not want another man to have Nymphadora Tonks. Especially not an old, scarred beast who could not hold down even the simplest of occupations.
I seethed silently as I watched him hold, caress and kiss her hand, touch her cheek and whisper to her in an intimate manner I had only dreamed of.
When she took the tiny diamond ring out of her pocket something clenched in my chest.
She was engaged; engaged to this filthy monster. Why, if her superiors at the Ministry knew about this…
As I thought this a plan came to me. Brilliant and subtle, it presented my only hope for salvation.
I could not help but smile in triumph as I watched them rush up the stairs and out of sight.
Now, I find myself alive with energy walking up and down Hogsmeade’s stone streets reworking the plan again and again in my mind.
It must be done delicately of course. I will not go to Umbridge with my suspicions right away, I will speak to Robbards first. Tell him that I am concerned about the company Nymphadora seems to be keeping.
When pressed I will reveal her ties to the Werewolf. Gawaine will have no choice but to speak to Madame Umbridge. An investigation will be launched, she will be brought in for questioning.
I can see her now, crying on my sympathetic shoulder…so vulnerable. By that point no doubt, she will be completely distraught. Willing to pay any price to make the whole ordeal end.
It is in this way that I will finally have her.
I return to the apparition point, content in the knowledge that my consistent dreams of her may finally come to fruition.
Authour:freakinwinky
Prompt:#5 "I like it when you're quiet"
Word Count:2,324
Raiting PG-13
SummaryRemus and Tonks come to realize that more stands in the way of their marriage than ministry policies, Voldemort or even Remus' still present doubts. (Begins nearly two weeks before Deathly Hallows begins and follows through Bill and Fleur's wedding).
Warnings references to (imagined) non-con situations, adult language
Authors Note This portion was probably the most difficult of the series to write. Working with a Character who is sort of OC but not (As he does "appear" in DH) is always a challenge. I wanted to make his voice and pressence as believable and canon as possible without restricting myself too much. I hope I've acomplished that and that you will read and enjoy. Because the last two will be from Tonks and Remus's perspective (respectively) I predict that they will be much easier and, therefore, come much more quickly. Enjoy!
In my dreams, I make love to her.
Perhaps “making love” is not the best way to put it. The term implies sentimentality and gentility neither of which have any place in my dreams of her.
When I dream of her I fuck her, I take her sometimes violently.
This is very strange. I have lusted after women before and made love to a great many of them. I do not like to boast in general but I, Albert Runcorn, have made more than a few conquests; beautiful women, all of them. But none like this one.
There is something different about her. So much so that she has firmly implanted herself into my subconscious refusing to leave me in peace.
This began nearly three weeks ago. I had seen the girl before that time of course but I had never taken any special notice of her.
She was a clumsy young auror with a slightly chubby build, wild hair colors and clothing styles. The body was less than perfect obviously, but it was the hair and clothing that put me off of her at first.
Her demeanor suggested rebellion. I do not like female rebels. I prefer my women soft, yielding and silent. They are known as “the gentle sex” for a reason after all.
But then, after Albus Dumbledore’s funeral, when she returned to the Ministry with the rest of her squad, I began to see her in a different light.
She came into my office just as I was settling into some paper work for Madame Umbridge. I did not recognize her at first.
Her hair was long, straight and jet black. It shone beautifully when the light hit it. She had lost a significant amount of weight(I have always preferred my women thin), her complexion was pale and made her skin look soft and delicate.
But it was her eyes that caught me. I had never before noticed the spark in those large brown eyes which carried just the tiniest catch of green. Her eyes looked straight into mine and sent a thrill through my stomach and chest.
“How may I help you miss?” I asked after clearing my throat
“Robbards would like to see you in his office as soon as possible,”
I had heard her speak before, and it was her voice, not her face or eyes, which told me that this was indeed the same young Auror I would not have spared a glance to one year ago.
“I see. And did he tell you what he wished to see me about?”
“He said he had some issues with the Ministers security,”
Her voice was slightly grating; still, it was quite pleasurable to imagine what she might sound like under…different circumstances.
“Ah. I thought it might be that again. Tell him I’ll be up in twenty minutes time.”
She nodded and began to step out.
“Nymphadora,” I called her back.
“Yes?” She asked pursing her lips in an odd manner as though irritated.
“I’m very glad to see that you’ve returned safely.”
“Thanks sir.” She said straightening up a bit drawing my attention to her breasts. They were small, but I did not mind that so much. As a Metamorphmagus, could she not change them? I smiled at the thought.
“I do hope to see more of you in the future.”
She said nothing but gave me a nod and a confused half smile as she left the room. Her eyes met mine again and, for a brief moment, flashed with light and fire.
That was the first night I dreamed of her.
Her hair was as long and black as it had been that day; it felt like silk when I ran my fingers through it. She tried to fight me at first. Being much stronger than she, I was able to subdue her easily.
However, I was surprised to find that her resistance aroused me. It thrilled me to watch the fire in her eyes burn at first with hate, then confussion, and finally with willful and passionate submission.
I was prepared to dismiss it when I awoke the next morning with a raging hard-on. Perhaps I would have, had I not dreamed of her again the next night, and the next night, and the next.
Finally, when it all became too much, I went to Robbards and made the request. He was all too happy to oblige. Apparently the girl had a habit of sticking her nose in places it did not belong and was proving rather troublesome to some of the ministry’s top officials.
Gawain was quite happy to put her somewhere where she ‘would not cause too much trouble.’
I immediately set her to paper filing in my office where I could keep a close and consistent watch over her.
Over the next week, I worked alone with her for so long, and so frequently that, at any point, I could have locked the door to my office and taken her with no questions asked.
But I have learned a thing or two over the years about tact. Any animal can pin a female down and have a quick rut with her.
Ensuring that the thing is done properly takes skill, brains and craft.
I chatted the girl up quite a bit, called her attractive, took an interest in her. She turned out to be much more talkative than I usually like. But every time she spoke, I was reminded of the dreams and the way her low graiting voice moaned my name in them, so I listened to her with rapped attention.
I created extra reports to file so that I could ask her to stay late on certain nights. This, apparently, created a problem for her.
She claimed that she had no husband or boy friend, no sick relatives to tend to. Yet, each night I insisted that she stay late, she became flustered and distracted in her work glancing up at the clock every few seconds as though she had somewhere important to be.
It puzzled me. I asked several of my associates to keep a close watch on her as she left the ministry each evening.
No matter how they tried, they could not track her once she apparated out of the ministry. It was impossible to tell exactly where she had apparated to.
I had all but given up hope when, one day, a colleague of mine who owns a shop in Hogsmede informed me that he watched the girl apparate to a point near his store each night and then hurry into the Hogshead inn and pub across the street.
He could not go into more detail, even when pressed. Apparently he and the Pub’s owner are not on the friendliest of terms and my source was quite hesitant to enter the establishment.
If anything more was to be learned, it would have to be learned by me.
It would have been fairly easy to follow the girl now that I knew where she was likely to go. That, however, did not feel quite…sportsmanlike I suppose would be the best term. I had to give her the opportunity to come clean on the subject herself.
So, on the night I planned to follow her, I kept her after office hours to file unnecessary paperwork “for the Minister.”
“Going out tonight, Tonks?” I asked her as she dropped several of the reports she was holding and bent downward to pick them up, (giving me a very decent view in the process).
“Not that I know about,” She said casually. “I’ll probably just go home and curl up with a cup of tea and the wireless.”
“I hadn’t pegged you for the type of girl who spends her evenings at home alone,” I moved closer to her and she turned toward the set of drawers near my desk.
“You seem to be the sort of girl that men would fall all over themselves to get to,” my hand was close enough to her arse that I could brush against it without being too obvious. If she noticed the contact, she did not allow it to unsettle her.
“Yeah, well, just goes to show you…” Her voice trembled only slightly with a nervous energy. I pressed closer to her, she stepped away.
“Now,” she said quickly, “did you want these files in the bottom drawer with the ones that go to the minister directly or would you rather-“
“Nymphadora,” I touched her wrist moving even closer so that our bodies were, very nearly pressed together. She did not attempt to move, but stiffened in her stance and when I looked to her face, she wore a closed expression.
“The files can wait until tomorrow,” I gently took the files from her hand and set them on my desk. She took one long breath then moved to her bag and began to gather her things.
I followed.
“I feel Nymphadora, as though I have been working you too hard these past few days. I would very much like to make it up to you,”
She continued to hastily set her bag together all the while glancing up at the clock behind my desk.
“If you’re not doing anything this evening,” I continued advancing on her, “I would be more than happy to treat you to diner.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. Not tonight,” Tonks said strapping her bag over her shoulder and moving as quickly as she could to the doorway.
“I’m really tired. If it’s all the same, I’d rather just go home and get some sleep.”
She did not appear at all tired. Indeed her body twitched with anticipation and an excited energy lit her already radiant cheeks.
I deeply considered pressing the matter. In the end however, I decided it would be best to continue as planned.
“Perhaps some other time then miss Tonks,” I said to her.
“Yeah, sure,” she answered though she seemed quite non committal.
“I’ll see you tomorrow Mr. Runcorn.”
“Good night Nymphadora.”
I watched her leave. Her bobbed, wavy hair (bright red tonight) bounced brightly as she walked toward the apparition point.
I waited nearly 15 minutes before apparating to a corner alley I knew of just outside the pubs main window.
In the shadows I was able to see everything without being detected.
I had prepared myself for several different scenarios. It could be as simple as a meeting of the underground rebel group “The Order of the Phoenix” (I would not be surprised if she were a member). She could have a young, handsome but poor secret lover.
I had prepared myself for a great many things. What I had not prepared myself for was Remus Lupin.
I knew him by sight and reputation as the Werewolf who had taught at Hogwarts for one year before being revealed.
Lupin, though obviously poor, was not young or handsome or romantic in any way that I could measure. He was a good few years older than me with shaggy graying hair and several unsightly scars along his face and arms. Hardly worth noticing.
Yet, I stood in disbelief as I watched Nymphadora Tonks (her hair turned back to that unsightly shade of pink), run to Lupin beaming at him as though he were Merlin incarnate.
I watched her sneak behind him, whisper into his ear.
I tried to wrap my mind around this new idea. Remus Lupin, a half breed, a Werewolf, was being attended to by my beautiful young assistant.
This was far more than strange or puzzling. I felt a new emotion stir in my stomach and chest as I continued to watch them. Even now I am not certain that I would be able to put a name to what I felt.
Perhaps it was simply surreal to watch fragments of my nightly dreams play out in front of me; another man in my place. Perhaps I was feeling my first pangs of jealousy.
This idea was foreign to me. In my other encounters with women, I had always been content to send them back to their husbands or lovers once I had finished with them.
I was most disconcerted to realize that I did not want another man to have Nymphadora Tonks. Especially not an old, scarred beast who could not hold down even the simplest of occupations.
I seethed silently as I watched him hold, caress and kiss her hand, touch her cheek and whisper to her in an intimate manner I had only dreamed of.
When she took the tiny diamond ring out of her pocket something clenched in my chest.
She was engaged; engaged to this filthy monster. Why, if her superiors at the Ministry knew about this…
As I thought this a plan came to me. Brilliant and subtle, it presented my only hope for salvation.
I could not help but smile in triumph as I watched them rush up the stairs and out of sight.
Now, I find myself alive with energy walking up and down Hogsmeade’s stone streets reworking the plan again and again in my mind.
It must be done delicately of course. I will not go to Umbridge with my suspicions right away, I will speak to Robbards first. Tell him that I am concerned about the company Nymphadora seems to be keeping.
When pressed I will reveal her ties to the Werewolf. Gawaine will have no choice but to speak to Madame Umbridge. An investigation will be launched, she will be brought in for questioning.
I can see her now, crying on my sympathetic shoulder…so vulnerable. By that point no doubt, she will be completely distraught. Willing to pay any price to make the whole ordeal end.
It is in this way that I will finally have her.
I return to the apparition point, content in the knowledge that my consistent dreams of her may finally come to fruition.