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

[mrstater]

Title: The Hopes and Fears Of All the Years - 1997: This Is the Night
Author: MrsTater
Format: Fic
Rating: PG
Prompts: Christmas shopping, stars
Word Count: 10,691
Summary: On a Christmas Eve trip to Flourish and Blotts, Tonks discovers Remus is up to a good deal more than last minute shopping.
Author’s Notes: Third in a series of three which includes 1995: So Stars Impart To Human Hearts and 1996: In Despair I Bowed My Head. Placide Cappeau wrote the lyrics to O Holy Night in 1847, and John S. Dwight translated the original French to English. Many thanks to Godricgal for her enthusiasm and encouragement, and for her excellent beta work, without which I couldn't have got through this plot bunny of mega proportions. And thanks to all you who have read and reviewed this little trilogy; it's been a joy to share these holiday fics. Happy New Year!



1997: This Is the Night

"I thought all our days were s'posed to be merry and bright, and all our Christmases be white," Tonks muttered as she and Remus burst, with a jingling bell and squishing shoes, into Flourish and Blotts.

"That only applies to Americans, I believe" said Remus dryly -- a striking contrast with their soggy clothes which rained as torrentially onto the floor as downpour outside. Propping the door open with one foot, he awkwardly leant out over the stoop to put his blown-out umbrella to rights; Tonks watched trembling droplets of rainwater cling precariously to his fringe. "And Muggle Americans, at that. No snow for London wizard-kind."

"In all our thousands of years of wizarding history," Tonks said, peeling off soaked gloves and chafing warmth into frozen hands, "why've no brilliant witches or wizards figured out how to make it snow in Diagon Alley? Least when it snows you've got something to show for freezing your bum off."

Overcoat swirling as he spun around, the umbrella now hooked over his elbow, Remus cocked his head and regarded Tonks with dancing eyes as the door clanged shut behind him. "Isn't freezing your bum off something to show for freezing your bum off?"

"Good job you're such a smart-arse. You'll want it in case it ever happens to you."

"Funny..." Remus took a step toward her, so that the frayed edge of his coat brushed the hem of her cloak. "I was going to say the same thing to you, since you're so very..." He ducked his head, and a bead of water dripped from his hair onto her nose. Raising a gloved hand to her cheek, he wiped the moisture away with his thumb and murmured, "...cheeky."

It might have been easier to swap insults with a Jarvey than to respond to corny joke when it was accompanied by a man's shiver-inducing warm breath on her face. Especially the shiver-inducing warm breath of a man who, for weeks, had walked with a spring in his step and a smile that never seemed to vanish completely, not even when he was strategising the Order's next defence against the Death Eaters.

Tonks didn't have to be an Auror to know Remus was up to something, though her sleuth training did her no good when it came to figuring out what he was up to. Whenever he caught her snooping or trying to get information out of him, he just smiled pleasantly and said it was Christmas and he was in love, and he probably only seemed exceptionally cheerful because he'd been exceptionally gloomy last year. And he was a Marauder, after all, so him not acting mysterious at Christmas would be akin to Mundungus Fletcher not being up to something of questionable legality at any time, wouldn't it?

Eyes never leaving hers, crinkling at the corners, Remus straightened up, undid his coat, and drew his wand from the inner pocket. "Arefacio." He flicked it smartly over her clothes, then repeated the charm over his own.

"That's right," Tonks said, regaining her ability to give back now he wasn't so distractingly close to her and she wasn't soaked to the bone. Reaching up to check that her red and green curls still retained their bounce, she went on, "You'd better do your handy little drying spells, seeing as it's your idea to go shopping on a day like this." She waved her hand at the window, out which there was no visibility, due to the rain coming down in sheets, except for blurs of light from the Diagon Alley streetlamps; it was dark as night out, though it was only mid-afternoon.

Hand in the small of her back, Remus gently nudged Tonks toward the cash desk. As they moved away from the window, the panes of which creaked and groaned with the blasts of rain-driving wind, she became aware of the muted bookshop conversations of the shoppers, and the soft strains of music from the wireless. At first she thought the string introduction was a chamber piece that set the appropriate tone for a Christmas shopping date -- then the high, warbling voice of Celestina Warbeck joined in and ruined that illusion. "O starry night, foretelling in your shining..." It was a song about the war being over and the Dark Lord being defeated by an army of love, which Tonks thought was a nice sentiment, but maybe jumping the gun a bit. Not that it wasn't nice to have support. Just maybe musical patriotism ought to be left to the Weird Sisters...

Thankfully Remus leant close, and his gently rasping tones were suddenly the only sound in the world. "Tomorrow's Christmas. Harry's books didn't come in till today. I hadn't a choice." He pressed his lips quickly to her neck, then his words took on a teasing lilt. "Besides, you volunteered to come with me."

Because who wouldn't go out in a hurricane if a blue-eyed man wearing a chocolate brown jumper came up behind you and kissed your neck and asked 'please' in that lovely voice?

"Because I thought maybe I'd pick up on some clue or other about that..." Tonks made quotation marks in the air. "...Order work...you're being so damn mysterious about." She added, "Also, it hadn't started raining then."

"It rained all morning, and the weather witch said--"

"Why didn't you and Sirius and James ever figure out how to transfigure rain into snow?"

"We thought about it," Remus said as they took their place at the back of the long queue of last-minute shoppers, and raised his hand in greeting to Mr. Blott, who blinked owlishly behind his spectacles, then nodded his head. There was so much courtesy in the gesture that Tonks thought it seemed more a bow than a bob. Mr. Blott, whether he knew Remus was a werewolf or not, had always been very polite to him, but this spoke of a new-found respect.

It was on the tip of Tonks' tongue to inquire, but Remus smiled pleasantly down at her and continued, "But we decided against it because we realised that doing so would prevent me having this delightful banter with you that makes people think we're two Hogwarts students who haven't any idea how else to flirt."

Tonks raised an eyebrow. "Speak for yourself."

"I was only trying to be a gentleman by lumping us together, but since you insist, I think the gentlemanly thing to do would be to oblige you. I know precisely how else to flirt."

Leaning close so that Tonks felt his breath again, Remus took off his gloves, caught her hands, and chafed her skin with his warm, long fingers.

"Are you quite dry enough now, my lady?" he murmured. "It's very warm in here, and though it will only take a moment to have Harry's books wrapped, we can browse as long as you like in the hope that the storm will break."

Holding both her hands in one of his, he let the other wrap around her waist as he kissed her knuckles. Tonks just caught the gleam in his eyes as they darted over her head, before his hand dropped due south and two strong fingers pinched her bottom.

"Oh-ho!" The witches ahead of them in the queue turned as Tonks drew herself up into her most imposing stance. Which was a tad difficult to make imposing when Remus' eyes were darting down to your chest as you threw your shoulders back and put your hands on your hips. "That's right magnanimous of you, Mr. Lupin. How d'you know I haven't got a lot of shopping to do in here and had already planned to browse for hours?"

"Nice try, Nymphadora," Remus said, and continued before she could protest his use of her Christian name, "except I remember quite vividly that, not a quarter of an hour ago, we did a present check and you said..." He cleared his throat then, in falsetto, mimicked an annoying sing-song, "I finished mi-ine.'"

"Please stop channelling Sirius. And since when am I not allowed to think of one more person I ought to give a present to?"

"Of course you're allowed to give presents to anybody you please. Only I know for a fact there's not one single more person you know well enough to." Before Tonks could protest, Remus' grin became lopsided as he leant toward her and, voice dropping to a husky pitch, said, "If you can think of one, however, I shall gladly grovel at your feet."

Tonks' hands moved from her hips to tug at the tasselled end of his burgundy scarf. "Or anywhere I ask you to grovel?"

She felt her lips curve upward as she watched his Adam's apple bob and his eyes darken to look at her with more desire now than flirtation. His fingers skimmed over her hips as they slid around her waist and pulled her snugly against him. "Do, please, think of one more."

"Umbridge."

Remus' eyes snapped wide open, the hazy look of want clearing like Dementors scattering from a Patronus, as his mouth hung agape and his hands fell to his sides. A strangled sound emitted from his throat, and his lips mouthed Umbridge?

Laughing inwardly that she'd managed to wrong-foot Remus, she managed to keep a straight face as she caught his elbow and pulled him forward in the queue. "I've always said dear old Dolores needs a copy of Hairy Snout, Human Heart--"

"That she does, Miss!"

They turned to see a gaunt young man with shoulder length dirty-blond hair wearing black work robes coming out of the back room. He carried a stack of wrapped presents, which Mr. Blott appraised from under raised eyebrows as the younger man laid them on the cash desk. If the proprietor had found any fault in the wrapping, the assistant wouldn't know, because he was approaching Tonks.

"Good job you came in today, Miss," he said, "because the author, Remus J. Lupin--" His grey eyes were enormous in his face as he regarded Remus with what could only be startled recognition. "Lupin!"

"Jake," said Remus, equally surprised, slowing reaching out his hand to shake.

Tonks was shocked for a completely different reason. "He knows you wrote it?" she asked as Remus shook hands with Jake -- whoever he was.

Remus glanced at her, but before he could comment, Jake corrected, "Jacob again, mate." His lips jerked into a smile as though he were unaccustomed to doing so, revealing a mouthful of jagged and broken teeth; the eye teeth were pointed, almost as if they'd been filed... "Or Shepherd, if you like."

Jacob Shepherd. There was something vaguely familiar about the name, as well as his face -- but then, as many people as Tonks saw in her line of work, everyone was. Though his features were lined, Tonks guessed him to be about her own age. How did Remus know him? Or rather: how did Remus know him well enough that Shepherd knew his secret about Hairy Snout? And if Shepherd did know Remus that well, surely he knew Remus wouldn't want all the Christmas shoppers in Flourish and Blotts to know? Tonks glanced around; except for Mr. Blott, whose eyes kept darting over his customers' heads, everyone else seemed intent on peering out the windows at the rain, or oohing and aahing over the Celestina Warbeck song. How many verses did it have, anyway? And Remus himself didn't seem particularly concerned -- though she did note that the calm expression on his face was the one he wore when he wasn't calm at all.

Who the bloody hell was Jacob Shepherd?

Then she heard Remus' voice echoing faintly in her mind, pronouncing the name in choked tones, and she remembered: the man in the hospital bed across from Arthur two Christmases earlier. He'd been bitten by a werewolf. Tonks had bought Hairy Snout, and Remus had given it to him.

And then met him again last year, underground.

He doesn't go by Shepherd anymore, obviously, she heard Remus' slightly bitter voice from last Christmas. The irony of living among feral werewolves... If Shepherd was going by Shepherd now, then surely he couldn't be living underground? For the first time, Tonks noticed Flourish and Blotts embroidered in gold on the breast pocket of his robes.

"Didn't expect to see you in here!" Shepherd was saying to Remus. "Mr. Blott said you wouldn't do a book signing and the like."

"Book signing?" Tonks cried, and a few heads did turn. Though she was enough used to turned heads to know they were probably turning because the outburst came from a girl with outlandish hair than by the outburst itself. "Remus, what in Merlin's name--?"

But she knew exactly what in Merlin's name.

Heart leaping, Tonks turned to look for the display, but Remus laid a firm hand on her shoulder and turned her to Shepherd. "Tonks," he said, glancing down at her with a polite smile, "I don't believe you've been properly introduced to Jacob Shepherd. Jacob, my girlfriend, Nymphadora Tonks."

"I remember you." Jacob smirked at Tonks as he gave her hand a weak pump.

Colouring, every fibre of Tonks' being silently implored Merlin not to let Jacob say what she'd said to him that day she'd been at St. Mungo's without Remus. The poor bloke had just been lying there, all green and ill looking and Tonks, more than a little put out with Molly's attitude about a werewolf sharing Arthur's ward, had marched over to Shepherd's bed and said, "I'm dating a werewolf, so don't worry." Shepherd had opened one eye a slit, coughed, and croaked, "Thanks. I'm really glad I haven't got to worry about pink haired losers coming on to me."

"The crazy hair," Shepherd said, gesturing to his own.

Letting out a deep breath of relief, Tonks scrunched up her face and changed her curls to pink spikes. "Think this was the crazy you remember."

Shepherd's smirk fell away as he gawped. "Blimey," he said then looked over her head at Remus. "Only girlfriend still? You mean she doesn't know yet?"

Only girlfriend still? What was going on here? Well -- she had a pretty good idea. But apparently there was more afoot than that.

Letting her hair go red and green again, Tonks looked up over her shoulder at Remus in time to see his hand, which had been tugging at his hair in a nervous gesture, drop to his side as he drew his features into that unruffled expression -- but he couldn't do anything about having gone very, very pale. Some part of his plan -- whatever that was -- was not going right. Tonks, though curious, and though excitement had stolen over her with the sensation of hundreds of fairies taking flight inside her, forced herself not to look around the bookshop and spoil his surprise any more than Shepherd already had.

"What don't I know, Remus?" she asked, affecting a wide-eyed, clueless look.

Remus' eyes narrowed ever so slightly in scrutiny; Tonks couldn't tell, despite the fact that the colour returned to his face as he smiled at her, if he really believed her innocent act.

Resting his hand once more in the small of her back, he said, "Why, that Jacob appears to be working here."

"Just started this morning!" For an instant, Shepherd's grin widened, then abruptly his mouth drew up into a sober line as he looked very intently at Remus. "Thanks to you."

Remus' hand slid over Tonks hip as he suddenly leant a good amount of his weight against her. "What do you mean?"

"Excuse me," huffed a portly wizard behind them in the queue. "Are you lot going to move forward, or am I going to have to explain to my wife that Flourish and Blotts closed before I could pay for her present?"

Remus apologized politely and let the wizard go ahead, while Tonks glanced at the wizard's purchase and bit her tongue to keep from saying his poor wife might prefer nothing to a cookbook. It was easier to control herself when the main thing on her mind was the fact that somehow Remus had helped Shepherd get a job.

"You were saying?" she prompted.

Shepherd cast a furtive glance over his shoulder at his employer, who was watching him carefully whilst asking if the wizard wanted the cookbook gift-wrapped. "Cost extra, don't it?" asked the customer.

Shepherd stepped away from the cash stand, away from the main aisle of the bookshop. Remus and Tonks leant close as he said in a low tone, "I was in Diagon Alley to, erm..."

His eyes darted to his feet, shuffling in shoes that were beyond scuffed and held together with tape. To scavenge and steal, Tonks supplied mentally. Heart suddenly heavy in her chest that this could have been Remus -- had been Remus, at particularly low points of his life, and even last year -- she nestled closer into the crook of his arm and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"It started raining," Shepherd continued, cheeks spotted with red as he looked up at them again. "So I ducked in here. Mr. Blott was setting up the display--"

The strong fingers on her waist nudged her. Tonks turned to look across the shop at the Magical Creatures section. Nothing, except a collection of Newt Scamander's books, was on the display shelf.

"Biographies," said Shepherd, helpfully.

Tonks' head whipped toward the next aisle over.

There, at the end, stood row upon row of a tan book with a moving picture on the cover. Tonks moved away from Remus for a closer look. At the top, of course, was the title; but whereas the original, anonymous version had been a simple leather binding with embossed lettering, the Hairy Snout part appeared to be done in some sort of furry material, while the shiny red curlicues -- like Valentine writing -- formed Human Heart.

Under the title was a picture of a canine snout, complete with fangs. Tonks guessed the artist hadn't paid attention in DADA about the shape of a werewolf's snout. It morphed into a human nose and lips as a decidedly female pair came into the frame and kissed them. The two sets of lips shifted again, into the shape of a heart as the title appeared below: A Lycanthrope's Look at Life & Love.

Blimey...Remus must have got some deal with his publisher, to get a cover like that. She leant back against his chest, feeling as if the flutter of a page might knock her over. It was better than anything Gilderoy Lockhart ever dreamed about having. No wonder Remus had been walking about with a spring in his step, looking like he was up to something.

She heard Shepherd talking. "...and I saw it was your name on the cover."

Indeed it was: by Remus J. Lupin.

It was a red-letter day -- quite literally.

He'd actually put his name to it!

She spun and clutched his lapels. "Remus! When did you do this?"

"Before today," Remus replied.

Tonks gave him a look, and his lips twitched as he tried not to laugh.

"Anyway," Shepherd went on irritably, "I don't mind saying, Lupin, I was right shocked to see your name, seeing as how you'd never let on before. And then when you were around last year, you said you thought it was a pretty unrealistic view of the world."

Tonks winced, part of her mind rejecting the notion of Remus ever saying such a thing. Yet she saw him, so clearly, in her mind's eye, grey and shabby on her sofa last Christmas, and ached at his words she'd not yet managed to forget: I am a fool. They all think I'm a fool.

"...so of course I picked it up to read," Shepherd's voice pulled her out of her melancholy musing. "I thought the first one was compelling--"

Melancholy banished by an unstoppable snort of laughter -- which earned her a pointed look from Shepherd -- Tonks looked up at Remus and mouthed, I told you so. Remus rolled his eyes, but the sparkle in them lessened the effect, as did his fingers stroking the curve of her hip through her bulky winter clothes.

Shepherd continued babbling: "And of course I just wanted to know what changed your mind. Mr. Blott told me I had to buy it if I wanted to read, so I told him I had to have a job to buy it, and he...I don't know, understood, and asked if I knew how to wrap presents. So, here I am, and I've been reading your book in between customers..."

Behind them, a throat cleared.

"You are no longer between customers, Mr. Shepherd," said Mr. Blott, drumming his fingers on a stack of black leather bound books on the cash desk. "Mr. Lupin, I assume you would like your order gift wrapped?"

"Yes, please," said Remus, smiling at Shepherd, who'd been thrown into a flushing frenzy at his new employer's reprove.

"Right," he said. "I'll have them ready in a jiffy." He grabbed the heavy volumes from the cash stand, started toward the wrapping room, but turned back on his heel to whisper to say to Remus under his breath, "He's paying me cash in hand. Thanks again, mate. And even if I hadn't got the job, the book's fantastic. Life-changing. Pity most of us can't read..."

"Mr. Shepherd," Mr. Blott said through his teeth, and Shepherd bolted to carry out his duty. The proprietor nodded to Remus. "It is well written. An illuminating perspective."

Remus thanked him very quietly, in typical humble Remus fashion, and looked a little askance as he shoved his hands into his pockets and faced Tonks. It wasn't lost on her what a gigantic thing an autobiography was for Remus; it wasn't as if, after the Hogwarts scandal, he was a faceless werewolf. And not only was it a memoir of his experiences as a werewolf, he'd also included love in the content. She was hardly low-profile. It was a bold move --

-- and he'd made it for her.

Looking at him, wearing that rich brown jumper and burgundy scarf, fringe falling in his eyes and that wary schoolboy look on his face, thinking that he'd been touched enough by her to go against his private nature, Tonks wanted nothing more than to take his face in her hands and snog him senseless. But somehow, given how exposed he must feel right now, Tonks decided a public display of affection was most probably the last thing he needed.

"Real answer this time," she said, tracing his lapels with her fingertips. "When did you do all this good and illuminating writing, and when were you planning to break the news to me that you'd done it, and got a cover that will land you at the top of the Witch Weekly bestseller list?"

Remus glanced at the shelf full of copies of his own book, coloured slightly, and said, "I'm sure it won't be a best--"

"I'm only glad they didn't put your picture on the front, or else I'd be beating off swarms of former Lockhart fans, and between all the Dementors and Death Eaters, I haven't the time." Tonks jabbed him playfully in the chest with her index finger. "Tell me, Mr. Order Leader, when did you find the time?"

"Please don't poke me." Remus caught her hands. Very softly, he said, "It's been my little hobby, when you're not home. And I didn't tell you because..."

He faltered, and his gaze fluttered down to his hands holding hers against his chest. Giving them a squeeze, he met her eyes again.

"Doing this for you seemed like the one thing I could give you for Christmas that would be all from me. Of course..." He glanced over her shoulder and frowned, and Tonks looked back to see into the back room, where Shepherd was wrapping those books. "It wasn't supposed to unfold quite like this."

"How was it supposed to unfold, then?" Tonks asked. "I assume you brought me here so I'd see the display?"

"Yes -- and I was turning the conversation rather smoothly toward browsing, if you'll allow me to channel Sirius for just a moment, until you decided to get shirty with me."

"Ooh..." Tonks let go of his hands and batted her eyelashes. "So you mean I was supposed to play the lady to your gentleman, wander over here..." She moved toward the Hairy Snout display, and Remus followed.

"Yes, and when I observed from the cash desk that you were suitably gobsmacked, I would sneak up behind you, like so..."

The umbrella hooked over Remus' elbow pressed into her side as his arms snaked around her waist and pulled her snugly against him.

"...kiss your cheek..."

Apparently he didn't feel too exposed by the book for public affection; warm, soft lips skimmed her cheekbone.

His voice no more than a hoarse whisper, he added, "...and say, Merry Christmas, Nymphadora."

His breath on her neck made the tiny hairs stand as a chill prickled down her skin. "Don't call me Nymphadora," Tonks said, covering his hands clasped around her waist with her own.

Remus chuckled low and squeezed her middle. "Precisely according to plan."

They remained like that for a moment, his chin resting on her shoulder, as Tonks gazed at the new editions of Hairy Snout, Human Heart. Gobsmacked was exactly how she felt as she tried to process just what this meant in light of the state Remus had been in last year. She let go of Remus' hands to reach out and touch the fuzzy lettering of the word hairy.

"All wrapped," Shepherd's voice called. Tonks turned as Remus raised his head from her shoulder, to see him striding out from the back room with Harry's books, now done up in green paper. She looked back at Remus' book, which she was still touching. Merlin, it had changed a man's life. A man who'd given up on society had found hope from someone who still held out hope. Mr. Blott had been touched by the human heart, and risked penalty of law to give Shepherd a job. What had Remus written?

She grabbed the book and started to pull it from the shelf, when Remus, who'd just released her waist to make his purchase, pulled it from her grasp.

"Reading in the shop is not part of the plan." Smiling pleasantly, he replaced the book on the shelf.

"But you've written about me!" Tonks cried in a tone Remus would probably call shirty. "I want to read it. Why did you bring me here if you're not going to let me read it?"

"--yet," Remus said. "And I brought you here because it all began here."

He smiled cryptically, then turned toward the cash stand, reaching into his cloak for his money bag.

Tonks tried to glower after him, but didn't really have the heart because he was chuckling and winking at her over his shoulder; his fringe, falling over his forehead, looking golden. She knew it was just a trick of the warm shop light, that his hair hadn't un-greyed. But his features seemed to defy the signs of age and stress. Jokey and confident, Remus seemed so much younger than he had last Christmas.

And...he'd written the revised edition of his autobiography.

With his name on it.

With bits about being in love.

He'd written about her.

Checking to make sure Remus' back was to her and that he was rapt on his conversation with Mr. Blott, Tonks grabbed a book and flipped to the table of contents. She stopped before she got there, distracted by the dedication.

"To my parents, Marius and Sylvia Lupin, who looked past a hairy snout and saw a human heart; and to Nymphadora Tonks, who holds it in her hands and will never let go."

Her heart turned over. He'd told her, two years ago, that if he were to re-write the book, he would dedicate it to her...But he'd said it half-jokingly, and she'd been swept up in him telling her he loved her...Then last year the idea of being together, much less of Remus' self-perception changing enough for him to revise Hairy Snout, had seemed pipe dreams...She'd hardly dared to dream -- yet now she held a dream come true in her hands...printed on crisp paper and bound between covers that would stand the test of time--

"Nymphadora..."

Her heart lurched at Remus' hoarsely calling voice. She snapped the book shut, pretended she'd only just picked it up.

"I'm all sorted," he said, turning toward her, shopping bag in hand. "Would you like to browse a while longer?"

Tonks grabbed another copy. And another. "Seems I've got more pressies to give." She took a couple more before carrying them toward the cash desk. "So start grovelling."

Instead of his face registering his response to her suggestive comment, Remus quirked an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that the sort of grovelling you want me to do isn't the sort I ought to demonstrate in public. And you know, it would be nice if some of the royalties come from people other than ourselves."

"Have you got a copy for me?" Tonks asked over her shoulder.

"They're all for you."

His tone was velvet, and Tonks' heart buckled again, along with the rest of her insides, to hear Remus say what was implied by the dedication in the book: He'd done this for her. She was as important to him as his mother and father...And Merlin, the way his eyes were caressing her--

"Of course, you ought to know that," he said, expression changing abruptly to a smirk as he sauntered up beside her, peeking down at her through his fringe, "since you peeked at the dedication."

"You great--Ow!"

Her hip collided with the counter, and she cried out again as her hands flew to clutch it, dropping the books on her toes. They were her heavy work boots, so it didn't really hurt, but it was the principal of the thing, especially with Mr. Blott looking at the books and at her as if she'd just dropped a baby, and Remus, gathering them and offering words of concern, but which were rendered null by his laughing eyes.

"Will you be purchasing those?" Mr. Blott asked Tonks as Remus handed them to her.

"I don't know," said Remus to Tonks before she could reply. "It does seem rather a bad omen, doesn't it, that you injured yourself over these books after I suggested you not buy them?"

"Who are you channelling now?" Tonks snapped. "Professor Trelawney?" She plonked her books on the counter. "No gift wrap, thanks," she said to Mr. Blott, who still looked huffy at how she was handling the books, despite her intent to buy. She glanced over her shoulder at Remus. "You're going to autograph them when we get home."

Shepherd, who'd been sweeping up around the cash desk, dropped his broom and bolted toward the back room.

"Does that mean I've got to wrap them, too?" Remus asked.

"If you want them to look nice," Tonks replied.

Mr. Blott was just handing Tonks her change when Shepherd clattered back into the main bookshop, nearly knocking over a beanpole of a wizard who'd just stepped up behind Remus.

"Lupin!" panted Shepherd, thrusting a copy of Hairy Snout at Remus. "Could you autograph it for me?"

"I..." Remus' eyes darted from Shepherd to the wizard he'd nearly run down -- who was mumbling about having quite fancied the cover, and thought he'd get a copy after all, since the author was right here shopping at Flourish and Blotts -- to Mr. Blott, who looked mortified at Shepherd's ostentatious request, before finally settling on Tonks. She smiled -- because he was so adorable in his lack of knowing how to handle a request of this kind, he seemed to believe she knew, and because she was so damn proud he'd got himself in the position of having to hear how much people admire his work. She threaded her arm through his and squeezed it.

"It's just..." Just before Jacob ducked his head and his unkempt hair fell into his face, Tonks glimpsed a tinge of pink on his sallow cheeks. He looked every bit the awkward adolescent as he hunched his shoulders, shuffled his feet, swallowed so hard that his Adam's apple looked like he'd ingested a whole Satsuma. "I can't thank you enough. I'm sorry for..." His voice cracked. "...for the things I said to you in the colony."

Tonks fleetingly wondered what Shepherd had said, but banished the thought, as she did all similar ones. Curious as she was, inadequate as she felt sometimes by not knowing what Remus had endured, he was right in not telling her everything. They would never move past that year if they dwelt on it.

Anyway, she was far more interested in the way the deeply etched discomfort on Remus face was smoothed away by compassion as he laid a hand on Shepherd's shoulder. "I too said a great many things of which I am not proud. Let's put it behind us, shall we?"

Shepherd beamed as Remus took the book from him and borrowed a quill from Mr. Blott. Tonks, her heart swelling like a balloon that would surely pop if it continued, couldn't resist glancing over Remus' shoulder to see his inscription: "To Jacob Shepherd, and a better life among wizards. Regards, Remus J. Lupin."

Shepherd looked right chuffed as he read the message, and asked, "Can I buy you a drink sometime?"

After arranging a meeting time, and autographing the copy of Hairy Snout the skinny stranger thrust in Remus' face -- as well as Mr. Blott's copy -- Tonks led Remus, flushed and decidedly dazed by the burst of attention, to the door and asked if she could by him a drink.

The burst of cold air that greeted them on the porch seemed to give Remus his composure. "No, I've got to buy you a hot chocolate at the Leaky," he said, putting up his umbrella and wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her close so that the material sheltered them both. "And I think I can just afford it, what with the royalties I just made from the books you purchased.

In light of his earlier comment that it had all begun at Flourish and Blotts, Tonks didn't miss the significance of the fact that he now had got to take her for hot chocolate at the Leaky, she wondered again just what he'd planned in regard to this book business.

She poked him in the side. "Right, as if you need royalties when that fantastic illustrated cover means you must have got a big fat advance. What did they pay you, anyway?"

"How do you know I haven't spent it already?" Remus' grin turned into a frown as he peered out at the sheets of rain that had driven all but a few brave souls off the crooked streets, and ruined the garland and red ribbon that had decked Diagon Alley. "Is there any chance, do you think, of this letting up before the night's out?"

"Only if you figure out how to transfigure it into snow." Wondering why it mattered, and trying to work out whether she'd only imagined a hint of seriousness in his tone when he'd said about spending his advance, Tonks glanced back at the shop window. She saw Shepherd, still grinning down at his book -- presumably at Remus' autograph.

As Remus started down the porch steps, she looked up at him. "How's it feel to have changed a man's life?"

"I didn't--"

"You did, and you know it."

They passed under a streetlamp, and it provided just enough light to reveal the two spots of colour on Remus' cheeks. He stopped walking, and turned to her, and Tonks felt cocooned under the umbrella with him; their bodies pressed closely together, and the rain fell down around them, but they themselves remained quite dry. And Remus' smile, a mixture of disbelief and acknowledgment of the truth that yes, his book had affected another person, warmed her as well. He looked deeply pleased. Delighted, in fact; Tonks could feel it radiating out of his gloved hand as he trailed it upward from her waist to cup her cheek...and then in his warm lips as he suddenly dipped his head and pressed them firmly against hers. The eagerness of his mouth opening and closing over hers stole Tonks' breath, but that didn't seem to matter as she twined her arms around his neck, crushing her paper shopping bag between them, and responded in kind.

It was probably due to that Celestina Warbeck song in her subconscious, but Remus' kiss reminded Tonks of seeing wizards and witches kissing in the streets when the news broke that the first war had ended. And of course that must be how Remus felt about what had transpired with Shepherd: he'd thought the battle he'd waged underground had been a dismal failure -- yet now, so many months after the fact, he'd won. Tonks wasn't sure whether her heart raced more from Remus' triumph, or from the gratitude he was expressing to her.

As he kissed her again and again, she saw stars and knew how he must have felt in the bookshop, at hearing Shepherd's simple words, thank you. His arm wrapped around her waist again, holding her firmly against him, and Tonks was sure, holding her up altogether. She loved the sense that in Remus' gratitude, there was nothing of the beholden as there had been in those raw, needy kisses he'd given when they first reconciled. He kissed her as equal, as partner, as helpmate, and also as victor in his own personal war, waged in blood, sweat, and tears.

But when he at last drew back from her, Tonks remembered the sombreness that had followed the wild kissing in the streets, reflected in a flicker of melancholy in the depths of Remus' joyful eyes. The sweetness of victory was such because of the bitterness of the toil that had preceded it.

"I wish Dumbledore knew," he said hoarsely.

Tonks felt the firm ground beneath her feet once more as Remus leant against her. Tightening one arm around his waist, she traced his hair back from his forehead.

"He did," she said. "He always knew you'd make a difference."

Remus smiled softly and, murmuring that he loved her, bent to kiss her again -- but just as their lips touched, the wind suddenly dove under their umbrella, shot upward again, and blew it out. The heavy downpour immediately soaked them to the bone.

Without another word they bolted, hand-in-hand, for the Leaky Cauldron, for that now much-needed cup of hot chocolate.

"I thought you bought those books as presents for other people."

Tonks looked up with a start from the revised edition of Hairy Snout, Human Heart as Remus set two steaming mugs on the table and took a seat across from her in the booth.

"Yes, well." Laying the book on the table, Tonks wrapped both hands around a cocoa and hugged it against her dry, but still chilled, self. "You cast really good drying spells and all, but I wanted to be sure the rain hadn't ruined the books. You wouldn't have me give out water-logged ones, would you?"

Remus shook his head as he settled himself. "And I suppose you think I'm frightfully silly to suggest you can check a book's condition without reading it?"

"No. I think you're frightfully silly to have stood over there at the bar and wagged your finger at me. As if that would deter me from anything. In fact, you only stirred my rebellious streak."

For a moment, Remus gazed at the book with pursed lips. His expression was serious as he took a long drink of hot chocolate and Tonks, distracted by the sudden thought that she'd somehow messed up his plan again by diving into the book before he said, gulped down too much and burnt her tongue.

The thought didn't have time to niggle before Remus asked, tone a little too level, "Am I correct to assume you're not a speed reader, and that you've skipped the account of my early life?"

"Course I did," Tonks replied. "You know I wanted to read what you wrote about me." Stomach giving a little twist of guilt, Tonks added, "I didn't get very far -- just through your introduction about dating. It's hard to concentrate in here, with all the talking and the music..."

Her words trailed away as her ears pricked with the sounds of the Myron Wagtail crooning, "I Saw The Stars on Christmas Night" to the backup of cello and lute. She supposed it had been a little harsh of her to judge Celestina Warbeck for singing about the war being over when the Weird Sisters had started the trend last year.

"Go on, then." Remus sat back in his chair as the stiffness left his smile.

Tonks sloshed her cocoa as she set down her mug and stared at him for a moment. "You mean, go on reading?"

"Aren't you going to perish from curiosity if you don't?"

"Yes, but...you seemed to want me to wait...Have you got something planned for Christmas--?"

"Of course I do." Remus took another drink, and smirked. "And if I wanted you to wait, believe me, I wouldn't have told you to go on. I'd have vanished the whole lot of books."

Biting her lip against the goofy grin that wanted to bloom on her face, Tonks thought, for the millionth time, that it just wasn't fair that Remus was so damn smooth when he was being a condescending prat. She'd mastered bluffing in Investigation and Interrogation training, but somehow all of that control was shattered by those twinkling blue eyes and the curved mouth she desperately wanted to lean across the table and kiss. She couldn’t let on that his brand of smugness was the spell for butterflies taking flight inside inside of her; he'd be as bad as Sirius.

"Now you're channelling Perfect Prefect Lupin." Tonks said, ordering an eyebrow to arch -- but his grin became lopsided and boyish and disarming again, and the arched brow became a lost cause as she laughed and traced the fuzzy lettering on the cover with her fingertips. "I'll feel silly sitting here reading while you sit there drinking your cocoa."

"You could read aloud."

Tonks didn't waste another second picking up the book and flipping through to where she'd left off. Once she'd found it, however, she hesitated. There was something truly strange about reading a book your boyfriend had written about himself -- and about you -- aloud to him. She was surprised Remus had suggested it. Wouldn't it make him self-conscious?

On sudden impulse, she pushed the book toward him. "Why don't you read to me?"

"Me? Read my own book?"

"S'what authors do, isn't it?" She didn't add that she found the prospect of his quiet, hoarse voice speaking the words that sounded so like him --that were from him-- but were much more than he ever would ever normally say, more than a little bit of a turn on.

"I suppose it is," said Remus, taking the book from her. "From the top of this page?"

Tonks nodded eagerly, and hugged her cocoa again, pulse quickening with anticipation as Remus took another sip of his, cleared his throat, then began to read:

"If I have managed to convey even half of the angst I endured as a teenager about whether it was right to keep my dark secret from my mates, and how paralyzing the fear could be that if the admission would not drive them away, my tiresomeness would, then you can imagine the extreme melodrama that accompanied my adolescent yearning for a love life.

"Most of it had far more to do with the simple fact that I am rubbish with girls, and nothing whatsoever to do with my furry little problem. Perhaps it might have, if I had ever managed not to botch things long before a girl noticed the frequency and pattern of my stays in the hospital wing. Some nights I lie awake wondering if gawky, randy teenaged boys really are more off-putting than werewolves. And considering I always knew I wouldn't sprout a bushy tail in the middle of a date, I was far more concerned about breaking out in spots or a cracking voice--"

Tonks snorted into her cocoa, and Remus looked up from the book with a sheepish half-grin.

"Am I going to regret going against my taciturn nature?" he asked. "Must I relive the mortification of being sixteen?"

"I'm laughing because you toss and turn some nights, and I can picture you fretting over that," said Tonks, giggles underscoring her words.

Remus quirked a brow. "Not exactly reassuring."

"It's an adorable picture."

Chuckling self-consciously, Remus pushed his hair out of his eyes, then lifted the book again. "In that case, I shall let that be my segue." He resumed reading:

"Lest I paint an unattractive and inaccurate picture of my adult self, and receive fan owls from homely, desperate single witches over a certain age who would like to put my sleepless musings to rest, I will say that I did, for the most part, outgrow my awkwardness. Or, perhaps..."

Remus' eyes flicked up to her, then darted back down as he grinned wryly and read on, laughter in his voice, "Or perhaps I simply learnt to package it better; my girlfriend seems to find a sheepish grin, hands shoved deep into the trouser pockets, and a ducked head that makes the fringe fall in the eyes 'oh-so-adorably sixteen.'"

Face warm, Tonks let out a little shriek of laughter -- not so much because it was funny, as that Remus Lupin had actually included such a personal detail in a published book.

"Why did you ever argue being too old for me?" Tonks asked, and his chuckle seemed to dance with hers in the air to the Christmas music.

It was the Celestina song again, and oddly, when Remus resumed reading, Tonks found herself paying more attention to the lyrics than to Remus' cleverness about the dilemma of coming out to your girlfriend as a werewolf. Maybe it was because the Weird Sisters' song preceding it had put her in a more charitable frame of mind -- goodwill toward men and all that...But the verse in "O Starry Night" about chains being broken and oppression ceasing really was lovely.

Eventually, Remus' rasping tones won the war for audience against the wobbly soprano.

"If I ever do find out the solution for The Coming Out As A Werewolf Dilemma, I shall put it in another book, with a catchy title, perhaps along the lines of, Howl: How To Tell Your Significant Other You've Got a Furry Not-So-Little Problem, And Other Helpful Hints. But as my current girlfriend knew before we met what I am, and as I intend not to date any other witch, ever, you shall have to hope that another lycanthrope takes up a career as an author.

"Though perhaps I do have a handy hint, after all. If you anticipate meeting..."

He paused, smiled more to himself than at her; Tonks' really did think she might melt as he continued, in a tone she'd only ever heard him address her:

"If you anticipate meeting The Woman of Your Dreams and fear making that dreaded announcement: get yourself involved in a scandal -- small enough that you don't land yourself in Azkaban, but large enough that every witch in Britain -- at least the ones involved with Magical Law Enforcement or Control of Magical Creatures -- takes note of your name and associates it with lycanthropy. You never know; one might meet you, find you charming, and want to go out with you anyway."

"Or want to go to bed with you," Tonks blurted.

Remus looked up at her with rounded eyes and a lopsided smile.

"You're very funny and sexy in print, you know," Tonks said.

"Am I now?" Remus asked, chuckling quietly, and glancing out the window. "It's stopped raining."

"And since you asked earlier if I thought it would, I assume you've got something planned for outside?"

Eyes gleaming over his mug as he drained his hot chocolate, Remus got to his feet. "If I were really like the me you read in print, I'd say I'd been planning to make love to you in the street, but as I'm not nearly as interesting in real life, you'll have to settle for a leisurely walk home."

"S'okay," Tonks said as he offered her a hand up, then helped her into her cloak. "Love-making on the street couldn't probably isn't nearly as exciting as it sounds."

"No," said Remus. "I suppose cobbles would make things a bit...bumpy."

Laughing, Tonks pulled on her gloves, then slipped her hand into his as they wove their way through the maze of tables toward the exit to Diagon Alley. "I think a Christmastime walk's quite sexy enough for me, so long as there's love-making at the end--Oh!"

Tonks stopped short as they stepped through the opening, realisation striking her like a brick wall. It all began in Flourish and Blotts...they had to have a cocoa at the Leaky...now a walk home... Remus was re-creating the night she'd discovered Hairy Snout, Human Heart, and they'd first said, I love you.

Only girlfriend still? Shepherd's words returned, striking her with a force that knocked the wind from her lungs.

Dear Merlin... Could Remus be planning to--?

"Leave something behind?" Remus asked, eyeing her with an arched eyebrow.

"No." Tonks shook her head. "Just surprised by the cold."

Remus released her hand and wrapped his arm about her waist as they ambled in the direction of home. Despite the lull in the storm, almost no one had ventured out of their homes or the Leaky; shop lights were dimmed, "Closed For Christmas, Will Re-open 27 December" signs hung in many windows as the keepers closed up early.

"Quiet tonight," Remus commented, just as Tonks noted that the only sound was the scrape of their shoes on the wet cobbles. "Will you sing?"

Recalling how she'd done that other Christmas when they'd walked together like this, Tonks obliged. "O starry night, foretelling in your shining--"

"There aren't any stars out tonight," Remus interrupted.

"There are," Tonks argued. "They're just hidden by the clouds. And if you want me to sing, it's got to be this one, because the bloody song's stuck in my head."

"Go ahead," Remus said. "You'll make it sound better than Celestina, at any rate."

"O starry night, foretelling in your shining,
It is the night of our sweet freedom's birth!
Long lay the world in war and terror pining,
Till love endured and brought peace to the earth.
A thrill of hope, the weary soldiers cheering,
For love has conquered death and its dark lord!
Lift up your eyes, O see the stars appearing!
O night divined, when we laid down our swords!
O night, O starry night, O night divined!

"Brave soldiers fought, for they loved one another;
They battled hate and secured us our peace.
Chains have they broken; all wizards are brothers.
By Merlin's name, all oppression shall cease!
Sweet songs of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
Let all among us lift a voice today!"

"All among us, Remus," Tonks interrupted herself, choked by the swell of joy that rose as she experienced again what she'd felt earlier, when Remus kissed her, that she had fought and won a very important personal battle, and that somehow tonight, Christmas Eve, was the culmination of every hope and fear she'd had for him, for them in the past two years. "That means you, too."

"May I read a bit more to you, instead?" Remus asked, bringing them to a halt in front of a park bench. The same one they'd sat on two years ago...

Tonks sat, and watched as Remus unbuttoned his overcoat and took out a present wrapped flawlessly in silver paper spangled with gold stars, tied up with a gold bow.

He held it out to Tonks, and as she accepted it with trembling hands, she knew at once that her own copy of Hairy Snout, Human Heart: A Lycanthrope's Look at Life & Love was inside.

"Why didn't you give it to me in Flourish and Blotts?" she asked as her gloved fingers fumbled to undo the bow. "Or the Leaky?"

Nerves made her babble; she knew the answer. Knew what lay beneath the paper she was opening with so much more care than she'd ever opened a present before, knew what would come after...Remus didn't seem to notice, but merely watched her with a smile as he sat beside her, sliding an arm around her shoulders.

Did he know that she knew? Did his thoughts resemble anything like hers right now?

As she freed the book from the wrapping paper, Remus' hands -- he'd taken off his gloves, and she felt the warmth of his skin even through her gloves -- covered hers as he gently pulled it from her.

"I know I teased you about reading it out of order," he said, "but I hope you won't mind if I skip ahead to a particular passage?"

She nodded, feeling strangely aware of how her heart was beating in her chest as she watched Remus' fingers flip through the book to the passage, the particular passage...

Oh, Merlin, she'd never imagined it like this.

How would he say it? Was this really happening? Was she reading too much into this?

"I've heard it said," he began, breath forming clouds in the air as he spoke, "that it is not good for man to be alone. I would venture to say that it is not good for werewolves, either."

Tonks' eyes fluttered closed. This really was happening. He really was going to...

"Those years following the deaths of my parents, my friends, when I was in and out of work as frequently as my girlfriend chooses and discards hair colours, fostered deep insecurities about my prospects for ever having the normal life my parents had always dreamed for me. When I met Nymphadora (she's so beautiful when she pretends to be cross with me for calling her that), her creativity, her flexibility--"

"Lovely bit of innuendo there, Remus," Tonks heard herself say over him.

"--and quite frankly, her saintliness..." Remus' fingers squeezed her shoulder, but otherwise he remained intent on the book in front of him as he said casually, "I'll make a note to my editor to change that to impishness in the next edition."

His eyes, twinkling with mischief, darted sidelong at her and Tonks, laughing, snuggled into the crook of his arm. She wrapped her arm around him, slipping her hand inside his overcoat. This was lovely -- marked with Remus' special touch of sweetness and humour, all arranged just for her. She thought of that wizard in Flourish and Blotts, buying his wife a cookbook for Christmas; that would never be Remus -- not just because she didn't cook, but because he was Remus.

The rumble of his voice as he read pulled her out of her thoughts and reminded her to savour this moment, which only came once in a lifetime, and all too soon would end.

"...creativity, her flexibility and, quite frankly, her saintliness," he repeated, "made me dare to hope -- until duty compelled me to go and live among the worst off of my kind.

"Foolishly, I did not have the faith that love could withstand separation, or circumstances which dredged up every last one of those old insecurities. To speak in detail about that time would be to dwell too much on a past I'd like to leave behind, but suffice it to say that, cut off from human society, I became far more fixated on the one night I have a hairy snout than on the twenty-seven I do not."

Tears pricked her eyes as Tonks remembered last Christmas, and how Remus had held the old anonymous copy of Hairy Snout and said it was the work of a foolish boy with a head full of impossible dreams. Thank Merlin he didn't feel that way still. Thank Merlin he'd written his story again, written these beautiful words about dignity, about claiming his rightful, human place in society.

"My life is marked by changes. Naturally, I fear and hate change that is beyond my control. All my life, I have sought to take part in things through which I might bring change to the world, and thus feel a semblance of control. I hope that this book might help change the way the world perceives me and those like me -- not just because we ought to have the rights other people do, but because I know how easily a lycanthrope's self-perception can be coloured by the perception of the wider Wizarding community. However, I hope cautiously. While I've got a bit of gold in my vault now, from my publisher's advance, and perhaps will receive enough in royalties to take my girlfriend out for a few hot chocolates, I know that I may yet remain unemployable, feared...

"Nonetheless, I will try -- because my efforts to change the world are sure, at least, to change me.

"I never dreamt there was anything to do with my lycanthropy that I could control. For over thirty years, I've thought that my condition shaped me -- but it was the changes life wreaked, which could befall anybody, that moulded my heart. My human heart. And what becomes of my heart -- whether it remains locked up inside, untouched, uncultivated, to wither and die; or given over to the full moon's power; or given to another person, in love -- is my choice."

Tonks sat up as joy welled, ballooning in her heart, pushing a beaming smile across her face. Remus removed his arm from around her, and turned slightly toward her, so that their knees touched, as he lowered the book to his lap.

His eyes moved up from the page and locked with hers.

She caught her breath.

Clouds formed in the air as Remus spoke. "I gave my heart to Nymphadora Tonks."

His hands pushed the book toward her, and she looked down to see that he'd spoken the words that were printed on the page. Written for her. Learned by heart because they were his heart.

Tonks lifted her eyes to his again. Her heart had stopped. She thought she'd stopped breathing, too, but from all appearances, her breath seemed to be mingling in the air with his.

"I tried to take it back," Remus went on, "but she refused to return it. It's because of her, for her, that I've written this book, and penned my name to it -- healed, whole, unashamed, determined to be the man she deserves, because apparently a stupid, stubborn man is far more off-putting than a werewolf. And that is why..."

Remus moved again -- oh dear Merlin...He'd got up from the bench -- but not up from the bench...

He was kneeling.

He was taking her left hand in both of his.

"And that is why I've just dropped down on bended knee...To ask her to do me the honour -- the very great honour -- of being...my wife."

Tonks gasped.

Not just because he'd actually asked her to marry him -- and even though she'd known it was coming, it still managed to take her completely by surprise -- but because, as Remus pronounced the words my wife, an illustration of a red jewellery box appeared on the page, beneath the very sentence he had quoted. Her eyes darted to his hands -- which she expected to be reaching into his pocket for a ring box. But Remus, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, nodded back toward the open book in her lap.

The image materialised into a real velvet case, and opened to reveal green silk, upon which rested a gleaming diamond ring.

"Oh, Remus!" Tonks pulled her hand out of his and picked up the box. "Remus, it's beautiful..."

It wasn't a rock, like Bill Weasley had given Fleur, but it certainly was the sort of ring to catch an eye when she moved her hand and the angles of the cut gem caught the light.

She laughed. "You weren’t joking about spending your advance, were you?"

He grinned -- boyishly, with the fringe falling over his eyes. "I didn't spend it all. I wanted to, but I thought a ring that size might be impractical when you're chasing dark wizards...Not to mention I was afraid of what you'd do to me if I didn't let you tell me how to spend some of it."

Tonks thrust the ring box at him, and held out her left hand. "Put it on me? Oh--my glove."

Remus caught her hand again, chuckling. "Just a moment. There's one very crucial bit you'll want to consider before you say yes." His eyes twinkled. "Which you haven't actually said yet."

She giggled, and felt her cheeks warm. He was right -- she hadn't said yes. Leave it to her, to botch how to respond to such a meticulously planned, wonderful proposal...But Remus was peeling away her glove, anticipating she wouldn't be too put off by whatever it was he wanted her to read--

"...and to be the mother of those someday Ferocious Fourteens who I solemnly swear not to remind her are more bothersome than werewolves."

Her laughter pealed through the night, yet there was a tightness in her chest as it dawned on her that she was the fulfilment of the "future wife" Remus had dreamt of so long ago, in the summer of 1975 when he'd written this book. His parents had given him the dream, and though the hardships he'd faced, particularly this year, had stolen it, she had made him dream again.

And now it would no longer be a mere dream.

"Yes," she said.

Joy broke across Remus' face, eyes so bright that Tonks thought for a moment that the clouds had rolled away to reveal a sky blazing with stars. Of course it had not. In fact, a large, icy drop of rain pelted their twined hands. It glistened in the lamplight -- as did the diamond engagement ring, still nestled in its red velvet case.

"Will you put it on me now?" Tonks asked. "I've said yes."

For the first time since he'd knelt down, Remus broke eye contact as he slid the glittering gem onto her fourth finger. Tonks watched him, loving how the look of pure pleasure on his face eased away the years from his features. As soon as the ring was in place, before Tonks had a chance to admire it, Remus had, in a swift motion, stood and pulled Tonks -- who barely caught the book before it slipped off her lap into a puddle -- into his arms, and kissed her breathless.

"Merry Christmas, Nymphadora," he said. "No present in the world could be better than--"

The clouds burst, and for the third time that night, they were wet through. As they splashed down the street toward home, Tonks sang in a volume Celestina Warbeck could only dream of achieving:

"Love is our lord! It shall endure forever!
Its pow’r and magic evermore proclaim!
Its pow'r and magic evermore proclaim!"