Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Tonks managed a few hours of sleep before the mysterious workings of her internal clock woke her. She scrunched down under the covers to block out the racket of birdsong coming through the window and yawned mightily, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. Snaking one arm out from under the bedclothes, she groped for the watch on the bedside table and brought it back into her dim cave. She squinted at the time and swore softly under her breath.

Emerging reluctantly from the covers, Tonks blinked in the morning brightness. By day, the bedroom lost what little charm it had possessed by moonlight. A small, boxy room, its walls were a sickly shade of grey-green, spotted here and there by patches of mildew that even Molly's strongest cleaning charms had been unable to dispel completely.

Considering that he'd lived here for almost a year, Remus hadn't imprinted much of his personality on the place: Aside from a bed and table, it held only an old wardrobe and a squashy armchair that looked as if it had been liberated from one of the better appointed bedrooms downstairs.

She'd never seen his room before he'd led her up those endless flights of stairs...at least, they'd felt endless at the time...on their first breathless night together. The next morning, she'd asked why on earth he'd chosen such a poky, out-of-the-way place when he had the run of the entire house. He'd shrugged amiably and asked if she had the correct time, as his watch seemed to have stopped. That was the first question he'd ducked. A milestone of a sort, she thought ruefully, although she hadn't noticed it at the time.

She slipped quietly out of bed, feeling sticky, sore, dishevelled, and distinctly in a hurry. Twenty minutes left her just enough time to dress, have a cup of tea, and Apparate to work. She wasted the first minute looking fondly down at Remus, sprawled quite peacefully at the moment. As always, he was uncovered, save for most of a sheet that had somehow twisted itself tightly around his left thigh. He never slept under covers that she'd seen, and she'd first come to his bed in January, shortly after the big Azkaban breakout.

Was it a werewolf thing, or simply a Remus thing that he was never cold?

Well, she'd just have to tack that question onto her growing mental list as Remus had a seemingly bottomless well of personal information that he didn't care to divulge. Not that she would have had the courage to ask, anyway. And that, in a nutshell, was how the boundaries of their relationship had been marked out. The rules were defined in its silences: in questions evaded, in subjects changed, in conversations deftly redirected.

With a sigh, Tonks got up and tiptoed across the room to find her clothes, discarded in haphazard fashion across the floor. She smiled as she remembered their arrival in the bedroom last night. She'd spent most of supper time making surreptitious eyes at Remus across the table as Molly, Arthur, and Bill had chatted about Charlie's latest letter from Romania.

For his part, Remus had met her glances with the same friendly but indefinably remote expression he used with everyone else; he was nothing if not self-controlled, even on the night before a full moon. Over his plate of spaghetti Bolognese, he'd asked Molly politely about the dragon colony's latest acquisition, exchanged observations on Romanian politics with Arthur, and even teased Bill about Fleur's extended visit to Paris to see her family. Sirius, luckily, had been off skulking somewhere, which made for a far more pleasant evening for everyone.

Congenial as the company had been, she knew Remus had been impatient to leave. He'd made their excuses early, murmuring something about a report from Dumbledore's contact in Helsinki that he wanted Tonks to see. Not that this fooled anyone at all; their involvement was an open secret.

Tonks hadn't understood at first why Remus continued this little fiction. Anyone as observant as he was could surely see the indulgent smiles such a remark prompted. But over time, as she grew to understand him better, Tonks realised that this was Remus's characteristically indirect way of asking his colleagues to respect his privacy in the matter. Thus, no one alluded to their affair, even casually, at least when they were present. Except Sirius, of course. He was always the exception to every rule, and Tonks suspected he prided himself on that, if nothing else.

So last night they'd climbed sedately upstairs to Remus's room, bodies not touching except where his hot fingertips had rested lightly behind her elbow. Somehow this slow buildup, the cool glances over supper, the trivial small talk, the unhurried leave-taking, the chaste walk to the bedroom, had ignited something in her nerves that never failed to grow into a desire bordering on desperation. For both of them, she suspected; Tonks had barely pulled the bedroom door shut before Remus was tugging off her clothes. She'd just had time to cast a somewhat breathless Silencing Charm before he had her pinned against the wall, her face pressed to the musty green wallpaper, as he had pushed into her with an urgency that was at once flattering and slightly intimidating.

"I don't have all day, dearie," complained a tarnished mirror, breaking into her thoughts.

Tonks glared at the mirror, mounted on the wall beside the rickety wardrobe. She hissed a soft "Shh," glancing nervously behind her to see if Remus had awoken. After their dalliances near the full moon, she liked to survey her body privately. Bruises and minor contusions were easy enough for her to fix, as advanced healing charms were a standard part of Auror training. She wanted to rid herself of any marks in case Remus woke up; the few times he'd noticed bruises, he'd become noticeably upset, although...typically for him...he'd demonstrated it by spending the rest of the day answering her in monosyllables and avoiding her eye. Not an easy man to reassure.

Grabbing her wand from the scarlet robe puddled at her feet, she started with the bruises on her hips. Each side sported five finger-shaped marks, livid in the morning light. As she flicked her wand over each one, it stung for a moment and then flickered to invisibility. Next, she examined her wrists, removing bruises that stood out like purple bracelets where Remus had squeezed too hard. Finally, she turned her attention to the love bites. They were harder to eliminate, but she could generally make them fade, if not completely disappear. She took care of one at the base of her throat and another just under her left ear. She suspected there was a third at the back of her neck, but she left it alone as it would easily be hidden by longer hair.

Satisfied, she cast a strong cleaning spell over her body and then changed her hair from pink to the bright purple she often wore for work, letting it grow long enough to touch her shoulders. As she reached for her underthings, she heard Remus moving on the bed. She looked over her shoulder and gave him a sympathetic grin. He sat up and stretched. His tawny, silver-shot hair was standing up on one side, and he looked far more exhausted than she felt. Dark circles were sketched under his red-rimmed eyes, but he returned her smile and said in a croaky voice, "Not late, I hope?"

"Nah, loads of time yet. I was just going down for a cup of tea. Make one for you, if you like. How d'you take it?"

Something subtle changed in Remus's face as he said lightly, "Oh, any old way is fine. However you want to make it."

Sudden moisture prickled in Tonks's eyes, and she turned away from him, telling herself sternly that she was being an emotional idiot. Blinking back the definitely-not-tears, she reached down for her knickers and began to pull them on, saying in a bright voice, "Well, I must say you're easy to please, aren't you?" Still not looking at Remus, she cast around for her bra, finally locating it behind the armchair.

When she did look up, Remus was gazing at her with an indefinable expression. He said tentatively, "Slow down a bit with that, will you, love?" His eyes crinkled. "You know I like watching."

That was an understatement, straight from the master of understatements. Remus was forever asking her to dress and undress for him, and she generally enjoyed it as she'd always been something of an exhibitionist outside the bedroom. She liked showing off for people, changing her hair or her nose or wearing unusual clothes. But it was Remus who'd encouraged her to develop a talent for striptease. Hitching up her smile, she tried not to think about why Remus invariably moved things in a sexual direction whenever he dodged a personal question, even such a trivial one. She'd only asked how he liked his ruddy tea, for pity's sake. Dead sexy, he may be. But there was no denying the man had some strange issues.

She finished dressing more seductively, running sensuous hands over her stomach and breasts as she pulled on her bra, wand holster, and shirt, swaying her hips as she stepped into her jeans, running her wand suggestively between her legs before slipping it into its holster. It was hard to look provocative putting on heavy boots, but she gave it a shot. Judging from the rapt way Remus's eyes followed her hands, she'd been fairly successful. When she finished, she picked up her Auror robes, draped them over her arm, and walked over to the bedside. She looked down at the erect cock jutting up against his stomach and raised an eyebrow. He gave her that lopsided smile she loved, the one that had the power to make her forget her own name.

"You see what you do to me, Tonks?" Remus said huskily. "But I know you don't have time, and I'm completely knackered in any case."

She reached down and drew a finger lightly along his jawline, whispering into his ear, "The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak, hm? I could take care of that for you with minimal effort on your part. Wouldn't take long either, I reckon."

He reached up and held her hand against his cheek. "Uh uh," he chuckled. "You know you need to go. Besides, I can take care of myself." Seeing her dubious look, he added teasingly, "I do know how, you know."

Laughing in spite of herself, she gave him a quick kiss, saying, "I'm sure. Well, I'm off, then. I'll pop back up in a few minutes with your tea. And I'll be try to be back for lunch if I can manage it... supper for certain."

As she clomped across the landing to the toilet in her regulation boots, she heard his voice calling faintly after her not to bother with him, that he'd be fine, that he was going to sleep most of the day, anyway.

Tonks clattered down the stairs and pushed her way through the basement door into the kitchen. A quick glance at her watch told her that she had ten minutes unless she wanted to face Scrimgeour's wrath at the weekly staff meeting. If she was in luck, Molly would still be puttering around the kitchen at this hour. Molly, bless her, could always be counted on to take pity and brew Tonks a quick cup of tea while remaining ostentatiously incurious about which bed she'd slept in.

Pushing open the door, however, Tonks encountered not Molly, but an unconscious Sirius slumped over the table.

"Bugger!" she muttered between her teeth. Her first panicked thought was to hustle him out of the kitchen before Molly saw him...she'd have kittens...but then she recalled that the Weasleys had intended to return home to the Burrow last night. Tonks sent fervent thanks to Merlin for that small favour.

Even in repose, Sirius looked decidedly uncomfortable. Lank black hair fanned across his pallid face, and one cheek was squashed damply against the scrubbed wooden surface of the table. Tonks leaned close, sniffed, and then wrinkled her nose. Firewhisky. Glancing around, she saw that he seemed to have stashed the bottle somewhere else before passing out. Such were the self-protective impulses of a drunk.

As if sensing her disapproving presence, Sirius muttered angrily in his sleep, and the hand resting on the table curled into a fist.

Tonks backed away and bit her lip with a sudden pang of guilt. Immersed in her own happiness with Remus over the past few months, she'd not spared Sirius much thought except to be irritated by his often-boorish behaviour. The poor bloke did look miserable, even asleep. He seemed to have gone downhill since Christmas. Of course, the entire Order were all feeling the strain since the holidays. The day after she and Remus had taken the kids back to Hogwarts for winter term, ten Death Eaters had escaped from Azkaban to rejoin Voldemort. And Sirius, to his often expressed frustration, had been unable to join the rest of them in trying to track down the escapees.

Still, Tonks didn't think he looked like a man about to do something rash, as Remus feared. He looked much more like a man who was determined to drink himself blind.

Tonks tiptoed over to the counter and filled the kettle as quietly as possible. It wasn't so much that she cared about waking him...the man had chosen to pass out in what was practically a public place, after all...but better a Sirius asleep than a Sirius awake and making sarky comments about her and Remus. That seemed to be Sirius's preferred style of conversation with the two of them these days, and unlike Remus, she had a hard time not rising to his bait.

With a wave of her wand, she got the fire going underneath the kettle and set about locating the tea things. She found milk, sugar, and a tarnished silver tea tray embossed with the Black family crest. Putting them on the worktop, she rooted in the cupboard for cups. As she reached to take them down, her hip knocked the tray to the floor where it landed with an earsplitting clatter.

Sirius jerked his head up from the table with a snort and looked about him wildly. In one swift motion, he jumped to his feet and pulled out his wand, jabbing it purposefully in the air in front of him. Tonks blinked at him for a moment, her mouth hanging open, and then began to clap her hands. "Oh, well done, Sirius!" she enthused. "Fantastic! Caught me in the act, you did, sneaking tea off to the Death Eaters."

Tonks picked up the tea tray and tossed it onto the worktop with another reverberating clang. He winced so expressively that Tonks guiltily decided to make a fresh attempt to get off on the right foot. She plonked herself onto one of the kitchen chairs.

"Wotcher, mate!" She offered him a bright, if belated, smile.

Sirius lowered his wand and yawned hugely. Without looking at her, he muttered, "Sorry. Bad dreams."

Sticking his wand in his back pocket, he sunk back into his seat and dragged his fingers through his hair in an unsuccessful attempt to smooth it. As he did so, Tonks looked at the self-inflicted prison tattoos on his knuckles and wondered idly why he'd never removed them now he was free ... or if not actually free, she amended, at least out. The spark of irritation she'd felt with Remus flared up again as she thought, But he's not in the least like Remus, all closed off. All I have to do is ask Sirius, and he'd tell me anything.

Pushing her irksome boyfriend from her thoughts, she resolved to be more supportive of Sirius, starting now. Giving him a sympathetic smile, she said, "So... um. How've you been, Sirius? Seems as if we never have a chance to talk properly anymore."

He fiddled with a knot in his hair with pale fingers and appeared to consider. "I feel like utter crap. But so kind of you to ask," he replied bitterly. "And do we never talk, Nymphadora? Can't say I noticed. Must be because you're far too busy banging Moony."

Tonks bristled at the unfairness of this comment, as it was Sirius who was avoiding everyone these days. He always seemed to be either up with Buckbeak or brooding over his dingy family heirlooms.

She started to say, "You know that's absolute b..." when the teakettle shrieked out a sudden whistle. Tonks rose abruptly, thankful that it had interrupted her before she could rise fully to Sirius's taunting. Somehow lack of sleep and her unhappiness with Remus were conspiring to rob her of her usual agreeable disposition. And to think she used to consider herself a morning person.

Fighting a sudden and altogether ridiculous urge to burst into tears, Tonks added tea and boiling water to the teapot. After setting milk, sugar, cups, and teapot on the tray, she carried it carefully to the table and sat down again. She swallowed against the tight feeling in her throat and said with careful calm, "Listen, Sirius. I'm not feeling so very chipper myself this morning, and so I..."

"Awww. Had a little tiff with Remy-poo? Makes a change from all that f..."

"...AND SO, I was wondering if we might call a truce, just for this morning? Please, Sirius?"

"Yeah, sure." Sirius yawned again and looked at her for the first time. He must have seen something in her face because he reached over and squeezed her hand affectionately. "Tonks, listen. I'm... I'm sorry. Shit." He scrubbed at his face with his free hand and said in a muffled voice. "I haven't been sleeping lately, that's all. Feel like Hippogriff dung warmed over most of the time. Don't know why I..."

Tonks shook her head impatiently to stem this flow of apologies. "'S'nothing. Really. Let's forget it."

She and Sirius looked at each other with faint smiles, possibly for the first time in months. Sirius did look very tired and unhappy. She pulled her hand gently from his. "Listen, d'you fancy a cuppa? Or," she found a teasing smile, "were you planning to have firewhisky for breakfast?"

"Ha bloody ha, Tonks. Yes, since you so kindly offer, I would like a cup. Two sugars, no milk."

And there was that stupid lump rising in her throat, again. She waited for it to subside before asking lightly, "Any idea how Remus takes his, at all?"

"Splash of milk."

"Thanks." She added sugar and milk to the cups. As they waited for the tea to brew, Tonks resolutely thought about not thinking about Remus. And was doing it very well, she thought, until her mouth betrayed her by blurting out, "How do you know?"

Sirius looked at her sleepily. "Know what?"

"How Remus likes his tea. Did he ever tell you?"

"Huh?" Sirius shook his head slightly as if he thought he might not have heard her right. "Uh. Lived with the bloke for seven years at school."

"And Sirius..." Once started, she found that self-restraint was no longer possible. Not that it had ever been her strong suit. She leaned forward and spoke urgently as if her question were the most important thing in the world. "Sirius... Why did you never Charm off your prison tattoos?"

He blinked at this apparent non-sequitur. He peered at her carefully. Tonks could feel her face flushing as she waited for his answer. "Are you feeling well, Tonks? Uh... Well, I swore I wouldn't take them off until, well..." He shrugged and held out the backs of his hands to her, and she read L-I-L-Y on one and J-A-M-E-S on the other.

Tonks's insecurities about Remus, which were never far from the surface, came bubbling up. She looked away from Sirius's hands and quickly picked up the teapot and filled three cups. To her mortification, she found her hand trembling. And when she felt her eyes fill with tears, real ones this time, she set down the teapot and rose from her chair.

Sirius frowned and shifted in his seat, scratching his head. "Hey, hey. Tonks. Um. Are you..."

Turning away, Tonks sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve.

"Don't cry. Please. It - it's alright. You know, the tattoos. It's just a thing I..."

Turning back to him, Tonks yanked her Auror robe off the table in sudden anger and pulled it over her shoulders. Fastening the front with jerky movements, she said vehemently, "He's such an utter git!"

If it were possible, Sirius would have looked even more puzzled. "Who is?"

Tonks looked down at her fingers,still fastening the robe. She said stiffly, "Well, I must be off. I'm late. Take this tea up to Remus, would you?"

Without waiting for an answer, she pushed open the kitchen door and stalked down the hall to the front entrance of Grimmauld Place.

After the door closed, Sirius looked at the tea tray for a long moment, trying to work out what had just happened. Finally, with a shake of his head, he grabbed the cup Tonks had made for him and drained it. Then he picked up her own still-full cup and took a meditative sip. When he'd finished it, he regarded the last cup, with its splash of milk, as if it might contain the explanation for why Remus was such a git. Well. Sirius had never been much for scrying, but it wasn't the first time he'd heard a woman call Remus a git, or worse. Probably the usual reasons. He lifted his shoulders briefly, picked up the cup, and carried it upstairs.

Thanks to melusin for the Brit-pick and quick beta, the admins for accepting my first story (eep!), and to everyone who takes the time to read, rate, or review.

Coming up next: Sirius attempts to make a point. Remus resists. Tonks learns more about men than she ever wanted to know.