Asking for Forever
Title: Asking for Forever
Author: shimotsuki
Rating & Warnings: PG-13 for mild profanity and cuddling. DH spoilers.
Prompts: Drama; a day of falls; Felix Felicis (metaphorically); image #26 (stairs down to a door)
Word Count: 5020
Summary: A mere fortnight after the relationship finally begins is hardly the best time to ask a certain question. But what if it's now or never?
Author's Notes: (Finished with ninety minutes to spare!) I tried to include all four prompts, but the way I've used Felix Felicis may not qualify... The location prompt is for Remus's sad little flat from All Will Be In Order, which he's kept since GoF as a secure place to transform.
Asking for Forever
I. Evening: Off Balance
"Alohomora," Tonks snarled. The door to her flat blew open and slammed into the wall. She stomped inside, exploiting the noise-making potential of heavy dragon-hide boots to the fullest, and heaved her satchel across the room. It burst open when it hit the edge of the sofa. Scraps of crumpled parchment and assorted rubbish spilled onto the floor. Cursing under her breath, she pulled off her Auror robes and hurled them after the satchel.
She was furious.
And it didn't help one bit that under her defiant armour of righteous anger, she was sick to her stomach with fear.
Damn that Albert Runcorn. Damn him. And Umbridge too.
. * . * .
When Runcorn spotted her, Tonks was crossing the Ministry's Atrium, practically running in her haste to Apparate home and go to see Remus. The two days since she'd last kissed him felt like months, and her need to hold him close, to bask in the warmth of the smile he let her light in his eyes these days, was fierce.
It was only a fortnight since they'd lost Dumbledore. In the aftermath of the attack on Hogwarts, both the Order and the Auror force were even busier than they had been-and they'd already been stretched dauntingly thin. Still, by some miracle, Tonks and Remus had managed to snatch a few hours together every single evening. Until last night, of course, but that couldn't be helped. Last night was full moon. And she planned to make that up to Remus the best she could tonight, which was why she was hurrying across the Atrium.
Hurrying, that is, until Runcorn's deep, oily voice stopped her.
"Auror Tonks."
She skidded to a halt, keeping her feet under her with some difficulty, and turned to face him. "Yes, sir?" Polite, detached, polite, detached, was the mantra she chanted in her head whenever she had to face this sort of power-hungry, Voldemort-denying, sorry specimen of a Ministry hack. In the current political climate, it was simply too dangerous to let herself say all the things she really wanted to.
"I've been hearing rumours about you lately. Most disturbing rumours."
Her lips pressed themselves together. "Have you, sir?"
"I have indeed." He looked her up and down, pretending to frown at her midnight-blue hair, but staring rather longer than she liked at some of her curves. "Your father may be a...Muggle-born, but you have Black blood in your veins. I'd have thought you'd know better than to take up with a filthy half-breed."
Tonks could feel herself go white with rage on behalf of her father and Remus, and there was a ringing in her ears. She bit her tongue until she tasted blood. Detached, detached, detached.
Runcorn seemed slightly disappointed that he hadn't been able to provoke her into a more interesting reaction, but he kept on. "That werewolf will never be able to give you what you want, you know. He'll never have a job for the rest of his wretched life." Her tormentor's mouth curled into a cold, cruel smile.
"Maybe what I want isn't gold," she shot back, before she could stop herself.
He laughed. It was a most unpleasant sound. "Maybe not. But have you heard what Dolores Umbridge is working on? She has thrown her considerable influence behind new legislation to prohibit non-human creatures from being a party to any license or permit issued by the Ministry."
Tonks was helpless to suppress the look of horror she could feel crossing her face.
"That's right," said Runcorn, clearly relishing every second of this farce of a conversation. "You see the implications." He smirked. "It's sure to go through in a matter of days."
Tonks had to force herself to unclench her fingers from around the wand in her pocket-hexing a senior official would land her in much more trouble than she needed to be in at the moment. Instead, she turned her back on the smug, arrogant bastard and stalked away.
. * . * .
Now, safe at home, Tonks slammed the door behind her, rattling the pictures on the wall. She took her boots off one by one and flung them down. "Damn him," she hissed again, and stalked across the flat-
-only to get her feet tangled in her discarded Auror robes and the mess from her satchel.
She hit the floor hard, bruising the heels of both hands, and smashed her knee against the coffee table on the way down. And as she lay sprawled on the rug, hands throbbing and knee smarting, the grumpy old wizard who lived below started thumping on her floor with his broomstick to tell her to quiet down.
It was the last straw.
Tonks burst into tears of rage and frustration, burying her face in the robes she'd tripped over and cursing a blue streak until she'd worn herself out.
But eventually she sat up, sniffling, and crossed her arms over her chest to dull the ache that burned there. "Think, Auror," she muttered. "You need a plan." What had Runcorn said, exactly?
It's sure to go through in a matter of days.
So what they had, at the most, was a few days.
She shook her head helplessly. It was much too soon for this. Remus was letting himself admit that he loved her now, which kept her hair pink and her step as light as dragon-hide boots and a certain natural clumsiness would allow. But alone in the dark every night, she was haunted by a cold, heavy worry that never quite left her-she was sure that if she pushed Remus too far too fast, he would retreat into himself and pull away from her again.
And now, what she was seriously contemplating was nothing short of asking for forever.
. * . * .
A few minutes later, Tonks Flooed over to Remus's dark little one-room basement flat, hefting a large picnic basket covered in raffia butterflies. She'd changed into a pair of worn jeans and a favourite Harpies T-shirt, and then she'd washed her face, turned her hair pink, and morphed away the red around her eyes. She was resolved to stay cheerful and give Remus a lovely evening, the moon and the Ministry be hanged.
She arrived to find him sitting in one of the rickety chairs around his battered kitchen table, reading something thick and dusty. But at her "Wotcher," he closed the book and pushed it aside with a bright, eager smile-he made no attempt to hide how happy he was to see her. To Tonks, this one change in his behaviour still felt like trumpets blaring and fireworks exploding, even after two weeks. An answering grin spread across her own face.
Remus went to her and took the basket, setting it on the table without a second glance, even though he was sure to be ravenous tonight. Instead, his arms slid around her waist as hers wrapped around his neck, and his kiss was every bit as emphatic as hers was.
Her horrible day had just got much, much better.
Finally, with a soft sigh, Tonks leaned back a little. Her eyes searched his face, and she traced his eyebrows and the line of his jaw with the tips of her fingers. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine," Remus tried, but she raised a dubious eyebrow, and he conceded, "Well, all right. I'm pretty thoroughly knackered, actually." His sheepish grin made her lean in for another kiss.
"Mmm," she responded at last, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder, and revelling in the gentle touch of his hands on the small of her back. This is more than you thought you'd ever have, she reminded herself. It ought to be enough. Don't go risking what you can't bear to lose. She smiled up at him, as brightly as she could. "Let's get some supper into you, so you can have a nice long sleep."
It was hard to let go of him so soon, after two days apart, but Tonks knew he'd been sleeping all day and could do with a hot meal. And, truth be told, she couldn't wait to show him what she'd brought. She turned to the picnic basket and pulled out a flask of chilled pumpkin juice, and then, with a careful flourish, a perfect chicken pie. The crust was lightly browned all over, with hints of rich oozing gravy, and the scent of chicken and vegetables was heavenly.
"Looks wonderful," said Remus. His voice had suddenly gone a bit faint.
Tonks could hardly keep from smirking as she cut him a huge piece and levitated it onto a plate. She'd lain awake for hours last night, unable to shut her eyes against the baleful light of the full moon, until it finally occurred to her to get some use out of her inability to sleep. Her kitchen had ended up looking like a bad day at a flour mill, but she had Dad's knack for cooking if not Mum's handy way with cleaning spells, and she'd made Remus a damned good pie that was none the worse for a few hours spent under a Warming Charm.
They ate in comfortable silence, with their chairs pushed close together so that hands or knees or shoulders could brush now and then.
"That was lovely," said Remus, after emptying his plate a second time. He thanked her with a slow, sweet kiss that ended with Tonks sitting in his lap, snuggled into the warmth of his arms.
She eyed him, trying to gauge the extent of his fatigue. "Shall I leave you in peace now, to get your beauty rest?"
"Beauty rest is wasted on me," Remus deadpanned. But then he smiled, almost shyly. "I'd be happy to have you stay a while longer. If you wanted to, I mean."
She felt the giddy grin appear again. He wanted her to stay. "Love to." Reaching into the picnic basket one last time, she pulled out a deck of Exploding Snap cards. "I do believe I owe you a trouncing, for one thing."
Her voice was light, but she watched him anxiously. This was something of a risk she was taking-they hadn't played Exploding Poker since their last post-moon evening together at Grimmauld Place...and Tonks wasn't the only one Remus had trounced that night.
Something did flicker in his eyes, but then they narrowed craftily and gleamed with mischief. "You know what they say about a haughty spirit and a fall, don't you?"
Hiding her relief, Tonks snorted and tossed her pink head. She slid off his lap to take up a position across the table, casting a Shuffle Charm on the cards as Remus Banished the supper things to the counter. She dealt the first hand, and the strategizing and bluffing began.
All they wagered was a cup of hot chocolate, an extra turn at the washing up, the right to have a book read aloud on demand-but the game was cutthroat all out of proportion to the low stakes. And Tonks was piling up the winnings. The fact that Remus was looking sleepier every minute might have had something to do with that, of course, but she'd take her advantage where she could get it.
"You see," she said cheekily, loving the way his eyes sparkled when she teased him, "I told you you were due for a trouncing-"
Her hand of cards exploded.
Tonks yelped and toppled right off her chair. She managed to hit the stone floor pretty hard with her left elbow, but she was too busy laughing to give it much notice.
Remus was laughing too. He slid out of his own chair to join her on the floor in solidarity, pulling her up against him and keeping his arm around her waist. "And I told you what that haughty spirit was bound to lead to!"
"You literal git," she chuckled. He kissed the tip of her nose.
And then, all at once, his mood changed. There was still a smile on his lips, but she felt the prickle of tears when she saw what lurked in his eyes-a quiet sadness and a deep, aching hunger.
His hand found hers and held it, very tightly. "Do you have any idea how much I missed this, all last year? The way you and Sirius used to make supper for me after full moons, and spend the evening stirring up as much fun as the two of you could manage..."
Holding her breath, drinking in his words, Tonks gave his hand a squeeze and brushed her lips over his.
"And it wasn't just the supper." Remus looked down at their joined hands and shifted his grasp, twining his fingers through hers. "More than anything, it was the company. You always made me feel like me again, after moons." His expression was bleak. "Last year, I never felt much like myself at all, transformed or not."
Her throat felt tight. He was letting her so far in, and she hadn't even been pushing him to do it. "You have me now," she whispered. "I'll be here. Every month. Count on me, Remus."
He nodded, smiling again, but the wistful, hungry look was still there.
Ask him, ordered a voice in her head. Do it. Now. He's just as good as said he needs you.
She drew a breath and tried to think of how to start.
But as she gazed into his fathomless brown eyes, mesmerized by the emotions that swirled there-the sadness, the longing, the vulnerability-she imagined the old walls going back up, his expression turning mild and polite and closed. Her pulse began to pound in panic at the mere thought. It was no good; she couldn't risk that.
And so she said nothing.
Remus frowned, watching her. "What-"
She twined her arms around his neck and kissed him, silencing both Remus's question and the little voice in her head that was calling her coward.
After a long moment she pulled away and rested her forehead against his. "I think it's probably time for you to get some sleep."
He started to say that he was fine, but his words were interrupted by an enormous yawn.
Tonks got to her feet, forcing a chuckle, and held out a hand. "Why don't you go get ready for bed while I do the washing up? Then I can tuck you in before I go."
Remus tried to protest, but she prevailed, hauling him up off the floor and shooing him in the direction of the bathroom. She had trouble finding a large enough plate to transfer the rest of the pie onto, though, and by the time she'd given up and Transfigured a saucer, he was already back, wearing a threadbare blue dressing gown over faded striped pajamas and looking half-asleep on his feet.
At least she'd had long enough to recover her composure, such as it was.
"Into bed with you," she ordered. "I'll be done here in a minute, and then I'll just Floo home." She propelled him toward the bed, waiting until he'd hung up his dressing gown and climbed in. Then she pulled the covers up, brushing a hand against his cheek. "Dinner at my flat tomorrow?"
"Sounds nice." He smiled drowsily.
She kissed him one more time and tiptoed away. Maybe I'll ask him tomorrow night. But her stomach clenched again, just thinking about what might happen if she did.
It took Tonks a good ten minutes to wash the dishes-she wanted to be as quiet as possible, so after using her wand to fill the sink with soapy water, she washed them by hand, holding her breath every time she made a clinking noise. Finally she was done, having only broken (and Reparoed) one teacup.
Yawning herself now, she put out all the candles and tiptoed back over to the bed for one last look at Remus by the light of the fire burning low in the grate, expecting to see him sleeping soundly.
Instead, he was frowning and muttering. "No-don't-" he said audibly, and flung out an arm, before rolling away from her and huddling into a tight ball under the covers.
Tonks swallowed. Sometimes he has bloody awful nightmares, after, Sirius had told her once. This must be one.
She sat down on the edge of the bed and put a hand on his shoulder. "Shh," she murmured. "It's a dream. You're all right." She ran her hand up and down his back for quite a long time until finally he relaxed. But when she took her hand away, he started muttering and curled up into himself again.
Tonks frowned and started over, rubbing his shoulders and back until he uncurled once more and rolled over to face her. This time she kept her hand on his shoulder, watching him sleep. The lines of fatigue had smoothed away, and he was even smiling a little. She smiled back and felt herself being lulled by his slow, even breathing.
She yawned again. I should go. She was awfully sleepy herself, after being up most of last night. But she was afraid that the nightmares would start again if she left Remus on his own.
"I'll just rest my head for a minute," she muttered, kicking off her trainers and stretching out next to him.
. * . * .
II. Morning: Trusting to Luck
Remus awoke early to the sound of Muggle traffic, as he did most days-but not usually this soon after the full moon. He kept his eyes closed and drew a deep, contented breath, marvelling at how good he felt this month. He was certainly ready for breakfast, but he wasn't wracked with pangs of hunger. That was thanks to Tonks and her lovely pie, of course, which had been much more nourishing than whatever cold snack he might have scrounged for himself in his post-moon fog of exhaustion.
He supposed he should feel ashamed, or even guilty, for letting himself be taken care of the way Tonks had done last night. But instead, what he felt was pure contentment. It was lovely to be looked after if she was the one doing it. And she really didn't seem to mind.
He felt remarkably well-rested, too. He'd expected the post-transformation nightmares to be bad last night, since, ironically, it was weakness from hunger that tended to keep them in check. But he couldn't remember even a single nightmare. Instead, he'd dreamt of Tonks, that she'd stayed with him, running a soothing hand up and down his back. It had been an achingly beautiful dream. Remus almost thought he could still feel the warm touch of her hand on his shoulder.
And then he realized that, in fact, he could.
His eyes flew open, and there she was-fully dressed and lying on top of the bedclothes, but curled up on her side, facing him. Her small strong hand was completely relaxed where it rested on his shoulder, and there was a soft smile on her face. Her hair was pink and curly and adorably tousled.
Remus almost didn't want to breathe for fear of waking her, but then he found himself reaching out to slide his fingers gently through her curls and down her back. She muttered something indistinct and burrowed closer, pushing her head against his shoulder and wrapping her arm around his waist. Her smile widened, and his heart sped up in response.
He made her happy.
As preposterous as that might sound, he, Remus Lupin, werewolf with nothing to offer anyone but a wry quip or two, made Nymphadora Tonks happy. Not by buying her presents, or taking her to fancy restaurants, but simply by holding her, or laughing with her, or telling her that he loved her.
He had never had a chance to try Felix Felicis, but he imagined that drinking it must feel a lot like this-he felt warm, and lightheaded, and absolutely invincible every time he reminded himself that Tonks had chosen this, had chosen to be with him. Had fought for it, even.
Who needed Felix Felicis when life itself was this lucky?
Remus lay motionless for a long while with his hand on the small of her back, watching the quiet rise and fall of her breathing and the smile that glowed on her face. Against his better judgment, he let himself pretend, for just a moment, that this was forever-that he would wake up next to this woman every day for the rest of his life. The longing that gripped him at the very thought was so intense, it left him gasping.
But he couldn't let himself think about forever with Tonks. He couldn't.
He'd spent last year desperately missing the comfort of their old, easy friendship, all the while aching for the something more he'd thought they could never have. Then, in an empty classroom near the hospital wing at Hogwarts, she'd convinced him to stop refusing her love-to let her choose him for herself. And so he was hers now, for as long as she wanted him. But it was inevitable that one day, she would find that the weight of his hopeless situation was dragging her down too, and he had to be prepared to let her go as soon as that happened.
After all, even Felix Felicis wears off eventually.
And even though forever was an impossible dream, taking things one day at a time was amazing enough. Remus breathed in the spicy scent of Tonks's shampoo and felt the warmth of her arm around his waist, and knew he was the luckiest wizard in the world-for now, at least.
Then a distant clock tower chimed seven, shattering his reverie. Tonks had a day shift today. He couldn't let her risk being late for work, especially now that she no longer had Dumbledore's influence for protection at the Ministry.
He tucked a pink curl behind her ear and ran a gentle hand along the curve of her arm. "Good morning, Nymphadora," he murmured. "It's time for Aurors to rise and shine."
Her eyes blinked slowly open, and she smiled at the sight of him-a blissful, sleepy smile that settled warmly around his heart. "Mmhmm. But don't call me..."
Then she blinked again and shot straight up, scooting away from him to perch on the edge of the mattress with her feet on the floor. "Merlin, what time is it? I didn't mean to fall asleep in your bed!" She flushed dark red and wouldn't quite meet his eyes.
"It's only seven." He grinned at her and joined her on the edge of the bed, bumping his shoulder lightly against hers. "And I'm not one bit sorry you stayed, even if you didn't mean to. It was lovely waking up next to you."
Her scarlet face changed to a soft pink, then, and lit up with a shy, pleased smile as her gaze found his. His stomach gave a little flip. It was so easy to make her happy. He wanted to do it over and over and over again. He caught her fingers in his and brought them to his lips, and her eyes shone. Remus felt a little like he was floating.
But then he saw a shadow cross Tonks's face, dimming her smile. A wrinkle appeared on her forehead, and she darted quick glances at him, looking as though she wanted to say something but didn't quite dare-just as she'd done last night.
This time, though, he was awake enough to react. "What's wrong?" He gave the hand he was holding a gentle squeeze. "If something's bothering you, won't you tell me?"
Tonks hesitated, and then all at once she was staring into his eyes as though she wanted to read what was written on his soul. Remus kept very still and held her gaze, hoping she would trust him enough to let him know what was worrying her.
"I heard something at the Ministry yesterday," she said, finally. "Another of Umbridge's hateful schemes." Her fingers tightened around his hand. "You won't be able to be a party to any license or permit that the Ministry issues."
She was tense now, watching him; her shoulders were rigid, and her eyes were still locked on his. Remus was puzzled. He'd got used to her fierce indignation on his behalf whenever Umbridge's name came up, but this felt different somehow.
"Well," he said lightly, "it's not going to do anything for my dignity, but it won't really make much of a difference in practical terms, will it?" He smiled wryly. "I don't have the gold to be signing any land deeds, and I wasn't planning to apply for a license to raise Crups or import dragons."
Tonks shook her head, looking miserable.
"Marriage license," she whispered.
Remus felt his stomach plummet and his hands turn to ice. "Oh."
Oh, Merlin.
Why did it hurt so much to be denied something he knew perfectly well he'd never have had anyway?
Then he saw Tonks watching him with eyes that were almost frightened-as though she were waiting for some kind of blow to fall. He mustered a reassuring smile and raised their clasped hands to drop another kiss on her fingers. "It's just as well we can't get married. It wouldn't have been a good idea, anyway." He sighed, pushing back a bitter surge of longing and regret. "Being legally attached to a Dark Creature could only cause problems for your career, the way things are going at the Ministry."
She shook her head, looking fierce now. "Do you think I'd care about that, if it meant I'd have you?"
He could only blink at her, astonished. He knew how much being an Auror meant to her. Would she really risk that, just for him?
"Besides-" She swallowed, and the look of trepidation was back. "It's not too late, not yet. The new law hasn't gone through yet. If we do it in the next couple of days, we can get married."
"You'd really want to marry me?" He could hardly get his mind around her words. "It's only been a fortnight..."
"Technically, yes." Her eyes were still wide and wary, and her hand in his was shaking. "But I've known you for two years, and loved you for more than a year." She drew a quick, unsteady breath. "That's more than enough time for me to know that I want to marry you."
Now Remus could find no words at all. He sat, clutching her cold hand in his, feeling the blood pounding in his ears.
Nymphadora Tonks was sitting on his bed, telling him that she wanted forever.
His heart sang-and his mind screamed for caution.
"I wouldn't have pushed this on you so soon for anything, otherwise," she whispered. "But...I really think it's now or never."
Now or never. The finality of those words left him cold to the core. But how could he make a life-shattering decision like this with no time to think it through?
"Remus?" She was so tense now, even her voice sounded brittle. "Say something. Please?"
"I love you," he managed, stroking the side of her face lightly with his thumb. "You know I love you."
Her eyes closed, just for an instant, and the line of her shoulders was suddenly a little less rigid. But then she was watching him warily again, waiting for him to say more.
Remus swallowed, fighting the lump that had risen in his throat. "It's because I love you that I can't let you do this. We have no idea how bad things are going to get for werewolves, and maybe their-families-too." Just saying the word made his heart pound. If only... He shook his head. "Letting you tie yourself to me and share my fate is the worst thing I could possibly do to you."
In a heartbeat, her apprehension changed to anger. "There you go again, trying to make my choices for me." She pulled her hand from his and caught him by both shoulders, glaring. "If you weren't a werewolf, or if that toad with her ruddy laws had never been born, then would you want to marry me?"
He owed her the truth. "Yes." He smiled sadly. "Of course I would."
She closed her eyes and let her head fall back, and her breath came out in a small puff. Then she gave his shoulders a little shake and glared at him again. "Listen, Remus. We don't know that there's any reason why my marrying you would hurt my career, or cause me any other kind of trouble." Her voice was low and fierce. "But we do know that if we want to get married, we have to do it now."
Maybe she was right. Maybe no one would pass laws taking away rights from the spouses of werewolves. If love was like Felix Felicis, maybe their luck would hold.
And Tonks wanted this, didn't she? Hadn't he promised himself to do anything he could to make her happy?
In any case, it was beyond his strength to keep saying no when he wanted this more than he had ever wanted anything in his life.
He nodded, slowly. "All right." His voice was rough and hoarse.
Tonks froze. "Really?"
He was still terrified that this was the wrong thing to do. But he found a small smile and took a deep breath to stop his hands from trembling as he caught one of hers in both of his. "If you're going to be my wife, I can't keep calling you Tonks, you know."
Then she was in his lap, kissing him vehemently, shaking with relief.
. * . *.
Some minutes later, he had both arms around her waist, and she was resting her head on his shoulder. "You aren't going to call me Nymphadora, either, though," she murmured.
"Well, then," he said softly, still rolling the word wife around in his mind and feeling small explosions of joy, "we'll just have to think of something else."
. * fin * .
Author: shimotsuki
Rating & Warnings: PG-13 for mild profanity and cuddling. DH spoilers.
Prompts: Drama; a day of falls; Felix Felicis (metaphorically); image #26 (stairs down to a door)
Word Count: 5020
Summary: A mere fortnight after the relationship finally begins is hardly the best time to ask a certain question. But what if it's now or never?
Author's Notes: (Finished with ninety minutes to spare!) I tried to include all four prompts, but the way I've used Felix Felicis may not qualify... The location prompt is for Remus's sad little flat from All Will Be In Order, which he's kept since GoF as a secure place to transform.
Asking for Forever
I. Evening: Off Balance
"Alohomora," Tonks snarled. The door to her flat blew open and slammed into the wall. She stomped inside, exploiting the noise-making potential of heavy dragon-hide boots to the fullest, and heaved her satchel across the room. It burst open when it hit the edge of the sofa. Scraps of crumpled parchment and assorted rubbish spilled onto the floor. Cursing under her breath, she pulled off her Auror robes and hurled them after the satchel.
She was furious.
And it didn't help one bit that under her defiant armour of righteous anger, she was sick to her stomach with fear.
Damn that Albert Runcorn. Damn him. And Umbridge too.
. * . * .
When Runcorn spotted her, Tonks was crossing the Ministry's Atrium, practically running in her haste to Apparate home and go to see Remus. The two days since she'd last kissed him felt like months, and her need to hold him close, to bask in the warmth of the smile he let her light in his eyes these days, was fierce.
It was only a fortnight since they'd lost Dumbledore. In the aftermath of the attack on Hogwarts, both the Order and the Auror force were even busier than they had been-and they'd already been stretched dauntingly thin. Still, by some miracle, Tonks and Remus had managed to snatch a few hours together every single evening. Until last night, of course, but that couldn't be helped. Last night was full moon. And she planned to make that up to Remus the best she could tonight, which was why she was hurrying across the Atrium.
Hurrying, that is, until Runcorn's deep, oily voice stopped her.
"Auror Tonks."
She skidded to a halt, keeping her feet under her with some difficulty, and turned to face him. "Yes, sir?" Polite, detached, polite, detached, was the mantra she chanted in her head whenever she had to face this sort of power-hungry, Voldemort-denying, sorry specimen of a Ministry hack. In the current political climate, it was simply too dangerous to let herself say all the things she really wanted to.
"I've been hearing rumours about you lately. Most disturbing rumours."
Her lips pressed themselves together. "Have you, sir?"
"I have indeed." He looked her up and down, pretending to frown at her midnight-blue hair, but staring rather longer than she liked at some of her curves. "Your father may be a...Muggle-born, but you have Black blood in your veins. I'd have thought you'd know better than to take up with a filthy half-breed."
Tonks could feel herself go white with rage on behalf of her father and Remus, and there was a ringing in her ears. She bit her tongue until she tasted blood. Detached, detached, detached.
Runcorn seemed slightly disappointed that he hadn't been able to provoke her into a more interesting reaction, but he kept on. "That werewolf will never be able to give you what you want, you know. He'll never have a job for the rest of his wretched life." Her tormentor's mouth curled into a cold, cruel smile.
"Maybe what I want isn't gold," she shot back, before she could stop herself.
He laughed. It was a most unpleasant sound. "Maybe not. But have you heard what Dolores Umbridge is working on? She has thrown her considerable influence behind new legislation to prohibit non-human creatures from being a party to any license or permit issued by the Ministry."
Tonks was helpless to suppress the look of horror she could feel crossing her face.
"That's right," said Runcorn, clearly relishing every second of this farce of a conversation. "You see the implications." He smirked. "It's sure to go through in a matter of days."
Tonks had to force herself to unclench her fingers from around the wand in her pocket-hexing a senior official would land her in much more trouble than she needed to be in at the moment. Instead, she turned her back on the smug, arrogant bastard and stalked away.
. * . * .
Now, safe at home, Tonks slammed the door behind her, rattling the pictures on the wall. She took her boots off one by one and flung them down. "Damn him," she hissed again, and stalked across the flat-
-only to get her feet tangled in her discarded Auror robes and the mess from her satchel.
She hit the floor hard, bruising the heels of both hands, and smashed her knee against the coffee table on the way down. And as she lay sprawled on the rug, hands throbbing and knee smarting, the grumpy old wizard who lived below started thumping on her floor with his broomstick to tell her to quiet down.
It was the last straw.
Tonks burst into tears of rage and frustration, burying her face in the robes she'd tripped over and cursing a blue streak until she'd worn herself out.
But eventually she sat up, sniffling, and crossed her arms over her chest to dull the ache that burned there. "Think, Auror," she muttered. "You need a plan." What had Runcorn said, exactly?
It's sure to go through in a matter of days.
So what they had, at the most, was a few days.
She shook her head helplessly. It was much too soon for this. Remus was letting himself admit that he loved her now, which kept her hair pink and her step as light as dragon-hide boots and a certain natural clumsiness would allow. But alone in the dark every night, she was haunted by a cold, heavy worry that never quite left her-she was sure that if she pushed Remus too far too fast, he would retreat into himself and pull away from her again.
And now, what she was seriously contemplating was nothing short of asking for forever.
. * . * .
A few minutes later, Tonks Flooed over to Remus's dark little one-room basement flat, hefting a large picnic basket covered in raffia butterflies. She'd changed into a pair of worn jeans and a favourite Harpies T-shirt, and then she'd washed her face, turned her hair pink, and morphed away the red around her eyes. She was resolved to stay cheerful and give Remus a lovely evening, the moon and the Ministry be hanged.
She arrived to find him sitting in one of the rickety chairs around his battered kitchen table, reading something thick and dusty. But at her "Wotcher," he closed the book and pushed it aside with a bright, eager smile-he made no attempt to hide how happy he was to see her. To Tonks, this one change in his behaviour still felt like trumpets blaring and fireworks exploding, even after two weeks. An answering grin spread across her own face.
Remus went to her and took the basket, setting it on the table without a second glance, even though he was sure to be ravenous tonight. Instead, his arms slid around her waist as hers wrapped around his neck, and his kiss was every bit as emphatic as hers was.
Her horrible day had just got much, much better.
Finally, with a soft sigh, Tonks leaned back a little. Her eyes searched his face, and she traced his eyebrows and the line of his jaw with the tips of her fingers. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine," Remus tried, but she raised a dubious eyebrow, and he conceded, "Well, all right. I'm pretty thoroughly knackered, actually." His sheepish grin made her lean in for another kiss.
"Mmm," she responded at last, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder, and revelling in the gentle touch of his hands on the small of her back. This is more than you thought you'd ever have, she reminded herself. It ought to be enough. Don't go risking what you can't bear to lose. She smiled up at him, as brightly as she could. "Let's get some supper into you, so you can have a nice long sleep."
It was hard to let go of him so soon, after two days apart, but Tonks knew he'd been sleeping all day and could do with a hot meal. And, truth be told, she couldn't wait to show him what she'd brought. She turned to the picnic basket and pulled out a flask of chilled pumpkin juice, and then, with a careful flourish, a perfect chicken pie. The crust was lightly browned all over, with hints of rich oozing gravy, and the scent of chicken and vegetables was heavenly.
"Looks wonderful," said Remus. His voice had suddenly gone a bit faint.
Tonks could hardly keep from smirking as she cut him a huge piece and levitated it onto a plate. She'd lain awake for hours last night, unable to shut her eyes against the baleful light of the full moon, until it finally occurred to her to get some use out of her inability to sleep. Her kitchen had ended up looking like a bad day at a flour mill, but she had Dad's knack for cooking if not Mum's handy way with cleaning spells, and she'd made Remus a damned good pie that was none the worse for a few hours spent under a Warming Charm.
They ate in comfortable silence, with their chairs pushed close together so that hands or knees or shoulders could brush now and then.
"That was lovely," said Remus, after emptying his plate a second time. He thanked her with a slow, sweet kiss that ended with Tonks sitting in his lap, snuggled into the warmth of his arms.
She eyed him, trying to gauge the extent of his fatigue. "Shall I leave you in peace now, to get your beauty rest?"
"Beauty rest is wasted on me," Remus deadpanned. But then he smiled, almost shyly. "I'd be happy to have you stay a while longer. If you wanted to, I mean."
She felt the giddy grin appear again. He wanted her to stay. "Love to." Reaching into the picnic basket one last time, she pulled out a deck of Exploding Snap cards. "I do believe I owe you a trouncing, for one thing."
Her voice was light, but she watched him anxiously. This was something of a risk she was taking-they hadn't played Exploding Poker since their last post-moon evening together at Grimmauld Place...and Tonks wasn't the only one Remus had trounced that night.
Something did flicker in his eyes, but then they narrowed craftily and gleamed with mischief. "You know what they say about a haughty spirit and a fall, don't you?"
Hiding her relief, Tonks snorted and tossed her pink head. She slid off his lap to take up a position across the table, casting a Shuffle Charm on the cards as Remus Banished the supper things to the counter. She dealt the first hand, and the strategizing and bluffing began.
All they wagered was a cup of hot chocolate, an extra turn at the washing up, the right to have a book read aloud on demand-but the game was cutthroat all out of proportion to the low stakes. And Tonks was piling up the winnings. The fact that Remus was looking sleepier every minute might have had something to do with that, of course, but she'd take her advantage where she could get it.
"You see," she said cheekily, loving the way his eyes sparkled when she teased him, "I told you you were due for a trouncing-"
Her hand of cards exploded.
Tonks yelped and toppled right off her chair. She managed to hit the stone floor pretty hard with her left elbow, but she was too busy laughing to give it much notice.
Remus was laughing too. He slid out of his own chair to join her on the floor in solidarity, pulling her up against him and keeping his arm around her waist. "And I told you what that haughty spirit was bound to lead to!"
"You literal git," she chuckled. He kissed the tip of her nose.
And then, all at once, his mood changed. There was still a smile on his lips, but she felt the prickle of tears when she saw what lurked in his eyes-a quiet sadness and a deep, aching hunger.
His hand found hers and held it, very tightly. "Do you have any idea how much I missed this, all last year? The way you and Sirius used to make supper for me after full moons, and spend the evening stirring up as much fun as the two of you could manage..."
Holding her breath, drinking in his words, Tonks gave his hand a squeeze and brushed her lips over his.
"And it wasn't just the supper." Remus looked down at their joined hands and shifted his grasp, twining his fingers through hers. "More than anything, it was the company. You always made me feel like me again, after moons." His expression was bleak. "Last year, I never felt much like myself at all, transformed or not."
Her throat felt tight. He was letting her so far in, and she hadn't even been pushing him to do it. "You have me now," she whispered. "I'll be here. Every month. Count on me, Remus."
He nodded, smiling again, but the wistful, hungry look was still there.
Ask him, ordered a voice in her head. Do it. Now. He's just as good as said he needs you.
She drew a breath and tried to think of how to start.
But as she gazed into his fathomless brown eyes, mesmerized by the emotions that swirled there-the sadness, the longing, the vulnerability-she imagined the old walls going back up, his expression turning mild and polite and closed. Her pulse began to pound in panic at the mere thought. It was no good; she couldn't risk that.
And so she said nothing.
Remus frowned, watching her. "What-"
She twined her arms around his neck and kissed him, silencing both Remus's question and the little voice in her head that was calling her coward.
After a long moment she pulled away and rested her forehead against his. "I think it's probably time for you to get some sleep."
He started to say that he was fine, but his words were interrupted by an enormous yawn.
Tonks got to her feet, forcing a chuckle, and held out a hand. "Why don't you go get ready for bed while I do the washing up? Then I can tuck you in before I go."
Remus tried to protest, but she prevailed, hauling him up off the floor and shooing him in the direction of the bathroom. She had trouble finding a large enough plate to transfer the rest of the pie onto, though, and by the time she'd given up and Transfigured a saucer, he was already back, wearing a threadbare blue dressing gown over faded striped pajamas and looking half-asleep on his feet.
At least she'd had long enough to recover her composure, such as it was.
"Into bed with you," she ordered. "I'll be done here in a minute, and then I'll just Floo home." She propelled him toward the bed, waiting until he'd hung up his dressing gown and climbed in. Then she pulled the covers up, brushing a hand against his cheek. "Dinner at my flat tomorrow?"
"Sounds nice." He smiled drowsily.
She kissed him one more time and tiptoed away. Maybe I'll ask him tomorrow night. But her stomach clenched again, just thinking about what might happen if she did.
It took Tonks a good ten minutes to wash the dishes-she wanted to be as quiet as possible, so after using her wand to fill the sink with soapy water, she washed them by hand, holding her breath every time she made a clinking noise. Finally she was done, having only broken (and Reparoed) one teacup.
Yawning herself now, she put out all the candles and tiptoed back over to the bed for one last look at Remus by the light of the fire burning low in the grate, expecting to see him sleeping soundly.
Instead, he was frowning and muttering. "No-don't-" he said audibly, and flung out an arm, before rolling away from her and huddling into a tight ball under the covers.
Tonks swallowed. Sometimes he has bloody awful nightmares, after, Sirius had told her once. This must be one.
She sat down on the edge of the bed and put a hand on his shoulder. "Shh," she murmured. "It's a dream. You're all right." She ran her hand up and down his back for quite a long time until finally he relaxed. But when she took her hand away, he started muttering and curled up into himself again.
Tonks frowned and started over, rubbing his shoulders and back until he uncurled once more and rolled over to face her. This time she kept her hand on his shoulder, watching him sleep. The lines of fatigue had smoothed away, and he was even smiling a little. She smiled back and felt herself being lulled by his slow, even breathing.
She yawned again. I should go. She was awfully sleepy herself, after being up most of last night. But she was afraid that the nightmares would start again if she left Remus on his own.
"I'll just rest my head for a minute," she muttered, kicking off her trainers and stretching out next to him.
. * . * .
II. Morning: Trusting to Luck
Remus awoke early to the sound of Muggle traffic, as he did most days-but not usually this soon after the full moon. He kept his eyes closed and drew a deep, contented breath, marvelling at how good he felt this month. He was certainly ready for breakfast, but he wasn't wracked with pangs of hunger. That was thanks to Tonks and her lovely pie, of course, which had been much more nourishing than whatever cold snack he might have scrounged for himself in his post-moon fog of exhaustion.
He supposed he should feel ashamed, or even guilty, for letting himself be taken care of the way Tonks had done last night. But instead, what he felt was pure contentment. It was lovely to be looked after if she was the one doing it. And she really didn't seem to mind.
He felt remarkably well-rested, too. He'd expected the post-transformation nightmares to be bad last night, since, ironically, it was weakness from hunger that tended to keep them in check. But he couldn't remember even a single nightmare. Instead, he'd dreamt of Tonks, that she'd stayed with him, running a soothing hand up and down his back. It had been an achingly beautiful dream. Remus almost thought he could still feel the warm touch of her hand on his shoulder.
And then he realized that, in fact, he could.
His eyes flew open, and there she was-fully dressed and lying on top of the bedclothes, but curled up on her side, facing him. Her small strong hand was completely relaxed where it rested on his shoulder, and there was a soft smile on her face. Her hair was pink and curly and adorably tousled.
Remus almost didn't want to breathe for fear of waking her, but then he found himself reaching out to slide his fingers gently through her curls and down her back. She muttered something indistinct and burrowed closer, pushing her head against his shoulder and wrapping her arm around his waist. Her smile widened, and his heart sped up in response.
He made her happy.
As preposterous as that might sound, he, Remus Lupin, werewolf with nothing to offer anyone but a wry quip or two, made Nymphadora Tonks happy. Not by buying her presents, or taking her to fancy restaurants, but simply by holding her, or laughing with her, or telling her that he loved her.
He had never had a chance to try Felix Felicis, but he imagined that drinking it must feel a lot like this-he felt warm, and lightheaded, and absolutely invincible every time he reminded himself that Tonks had chosen this, had chosen to be with him. Had fought for it, even.
Who needed Felix Felicis when life itself was this lucky?
Remus lay motionless for a long while with his hand on the small of her back, watching the quiet rise and fall of her breathing and the smile that glowed on her face. Against his better judgment, he let himself pretend, for just a moment, that this was forever-that he would wake up next to this woman every day for the rest of his life. The longing that gripped him at the very thought was so intense, it left him gasping.
But he couldn't let himself think about forever with Tonks. He couldn't.
He'd spent last year desperately missing the comfort of their old, easy friendship, all the while aching for the something more he'd thought they could never have. Then, in an empty classroom near the hospital wing at Hogwarts, she'd convinced him to stop refusing her love-to let her choose him for herself. And so he was hers now, for as long as she wanted him. But it was inevitable that one day, she would find that the weight of his hopeless situation was dragging her down too, and he had to be prepared to let her go as soon as that happened.
After all, even Felix Felicis wears off eventually.
And even though forever was an impossible dream, taking things one day at a time was amazing enough. Remus breathed in the spicy scent of Tonks's shampoo and felt the warmth of her arm around his waist, and knew he was the luckiest wizard in the world-for now, at least.
Then a distant clock tower chimed seven, shattering his reverie. Tonks had a day shift today. He couldn't let her risk being late for work, especially now that she no longer had Dumbledore's influence for protection at the Ministry.
He tucked a pink curl behind her ear and ran a gentle hand along the curve of her arm. "Good morning, Nymphadora," he murmured. "It's time for Aurors to rise and shine."
Her eyes blinked slowly open, and she smiled at the sight of him-a blissful, sleepy smile that settled warmly around his heart. "Mmhmm. But don't call me..."
Then she blinked again and shot straight up, scooting away from him to perch on the edge of the mattress with her feet on the floor. "Merlin, what time is it? I didn't mean to fall asleep in your bed!" She flushed dark red and wouldn't quite meet his eyes.
"It's only seven." He grinned at her and joined her on the edge of the bed, bumping his shoulder lightly against hers. "And I'm not one bit sorry you stayed, even if you didn't mean to. It was lovely waking up next to you."
Her scarlet face changed to a soft pink, then, and lit up with a shy, pleased smile as her gaze found his. His stomach gave a little flip. It was so easy to make her happy. He wanted to do it over and over and over again. He caught her fingers in his and brought them to his lips, and her eyes shone. Remus felt a little like he was floating.
But then he saw a shadow cross Tonks's face, dimming her smile. A wrinkle appeared on her forehead, and she darted quick glances at him, looking as though she wanted to say something but didn't quite dare-just as she'd done last night.
This time, though, he was awake enough to react. "What's wrong?" He gave the hand he was holding a gentle squeeze. "If something's bothering you, won't you tell me?"
Tonks hesitated, and then all at once she was staring into his eyes as though she wanted to read what was written on his soul. Remus kept very still and held her gaze, hoping she would trust him enough to let him know what was worrying her.
"I heard something at the Ministry yesterday," she said, finally. "Another of Umbridge's hateful schemes." Her fingers tightened around his hand. "You won't be able to be a party to any license or permit that the Ministry issues."
She was tense now, watching him; her shoulders were rigid, and her eyes were still locked on his. Remus was puzzled. He'd got used to her fierce indignation on his behalf whenever Umbridge's name came up, but this felt different somehow.
"Well," he said lightly, "it's not going to do anything for my dignity, but it won't really make much of a difference in practical terms, will it?" He smiled wryly. "I don't have the gold to be signing any land deeds, and I wasn't planning to apply for a license to raise Crups or import dragons."
Tonks shook her head, looking miserable.
"Marriage license," she whispered.
Remus felt his stomach plummet and his hands turn to ice. "Oh."
Oh, Merlin.
Why did it hurt so much to be denied something he knew perfectly well he'd never have had anyway?
Then he saw Tonks watching him with eyes that were almost frightened-as though she were waiting for some kind of blow to fall. He mustered a reassuring smile and raised their clasped hands to drop another kiss on her fingers. "It's just as well we can't get married. It wouldn't have been a good idea, anyway." He sighed, pushing back a bitter surge of longing and regret. "Being legally attached to a Dark Creature could only cause problems for your career, the way things are going at the Ministry."
She shook her head, looking fierce now. "Do you think I'd care about that, if it meant I'd have you?"
He could only blink at her, astonished. He knew how much being an Auror meant to her. Would she really risk that, just for him?
"Besides-" She swallowed, and the look of trepidation was back. "It's not too late, not yet. The new law hasn't gone through yet. If we do it in the next couple of days, we can get married."
"You'd really want to marry me?" He could hardly get his mind around her words. "It's only been a fortnight..."
"Technically, yes." Her eyes were still wide and wary, and her hand in his was shaking. "But I've known you for two years, and loved you for more than a year." She drew a quick, unsteady breath. "That's more than enough time for me to know that I want to marry you."
Now Remus could find no words at all. He sat, clutching her cold hand in his, feeling the blood pounding in his ears.
Nymphadora Tonks was sitting on his bed, telling him that she wanted forever.
His heart sang-and his mind screamed for caution.
"I wouldn't have pushed this on you so soon for anything, otherwise," she whispered. "But...I really think it's now or never."
Now or never. The finality of those words left him cold to the core. But how could he make a life-shattering decision like this with no time to think it through?
"Remus?" She was so tense now, even her voice sounded brittle. "Say something. Please?"
"I love you," he managed, stroking the side of her face lightly with his thumb. "You know I love you."
Her eyes closed, just for an instant, and the line of her shoulders was suddenly a little less rigid. But then she was watching him warily again, waiting for him to say more.
Remus swallowed, fighting the lump that had risen in his throat. "It's because I love you that I can't let you do this. We have no idea how bad things are going to get for werewolves, and maybe their-families-too." Just saying the word made his heart pound. If only... He shook his head. "Letting you tie yourself to me and share my fate is the worst thing I could possibly do to you."
In a heartbeat, her apprehension changed to anger. "There you go again, trying to make my choices for me." She pulled her hand from his and caught him by both shoulders, glaring. "If you weren't a werewolf, or if that toad with her ruddy laws had never been born, then would you want to marry me?"
He owed her the truth. "Yes." He smiled sadly. "Of course I would."
She closed her eyes and let her head fall back, and her breath came out in a small puff. Then she gave his shoulders a little shake and glared at him again. "Listen, Remus. We don't know that there's any reason why my marrying you would hurt my career, or cause me any other kind of trouble." Her voice was low and fierce. "But we do know that if we want to get married, we have to do it now."
Maybe she was right. Maybe no one would pass laws taking away rights from the spouses of werewolves. If love was like Felix Felicis, maybe their luck would hold.
And Tonks wanted this, didn't she? Hadn't he promised himself to do anything he could to make her happy?
In any case, it was beyond his strength to keep saying no when he wanted this more than he had ever wanted anything in his life.
He nodded, slowly. "All right." His voice was rough and hoarse.
Tonks froze. "Really?"
He was still terrified that this was the wrong thing to do. But he found a small smile and took a deep breath to stop his hands from trembling as he caught one of hers in both of his. "If you're going to be my wife, I can't keep calling you Tonks, you know."
Then she was in his lap, kissing him vehemently, shaking with relief.
. * . *.
Some minutes later, he had both arms around her waist, and she was resting her head on his shoulder. "You aren't going to call me Nymphadora, either, though," she murmured.
"Well, then," he said softly, still rolling the word wife around in his mind and feeling small explosions of joy, "we'll just have to think of something else."
. * fin * .