Just some notes before you divulge yourself into my first Tonks / Lupin Fic—Keep in mind it’s my first time writing anything that has a marauder or someone their age as a main character in a fanfic. And, secondly, please don’t let this message discourage you…R & R, will ya?
And also, this is not my best or worst. See authors note at the end for details pertaining to this subject…But don’t forget to enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot, as per usual.
<RENDEVOUS BY MOONLIGHT>
A Lupin / Tonks Story
In all my years of living (never mind how many) I never knew that I could feel this alive. How could he be so embarrassed about this…this wondrous feeling? It’s fantastic! But, perhaps that’s why he’s so clammy about it, being so noble and secretive, not telling anyone, especially me, how he feels. He’s always been a bit odd, though; just look at the friends he keeps and has kept! I so wish that he would just lighten up and live life like he knows he should, what without the certainty of tomorrow, or the luxury of procrastination available anymore. There are some things that just shouldn’t be bottled up inside of people…
Oh, introductions. I’m Nymphadora Tonks, the name my mum gave me, but I prefer it if you call me Tonks; all my friends do anyway. Wotcher, mate!
Another thing; I’m a Metamorphmagus. Quite a mouthful, don’t you agree? But that means that I can change my appearance at will, though some transformations are hard to get in and out of, like this one I’m in now. But, I’ve been practicing getting in and out of it and I think I’ve quite accomplished it, doing it in a timely fashion. In case you’re wondering, as you most likely were, I’m in werewolf shape. Yes, I said that just now and it’s true…and very hard to get in and out of, let me tell you, being that it’s an animal, not a human, and that I’m not supposed to be a werewolf, because I wasn’t bitten. But, as I say, rules, “shmooules”.
You’d do anything for the one you love.
<Kitchen of the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters (aka, Number 12, Grimmauld Place), 9:30 pm, 3 days from Full Moon>
“How did your watch go?” Molly asked as she poured me a cup of coffee.
“Bloody awful,” I said. I gave her a weak smile, telling her that I was being sarcastic.
She smiled weakly in return; her eyes shadowed with lack of sleep, and another, deeper emotion I had seen more often in her since Voldemort showed his sorry corpse to the word; fear; and went to the other end of the kitchen to talk quietly with Arthur.
I sighed, running my hand through my tousled hair. Checking my watch for the tenth time, I felt weak as the dial crawled closer to the white round circle that was there, telling me that the full-moon was only days away, and Hermione had yet to bring me more of that god-awful potion. She had admitted that she had tried to make it more bearable for me and I had thanked her, but to no avail. It still tasted like it was the rotten, week-old entrails of a dead pig, (which I had guessed correctly were in there to sate my hunger for human flesh during my transformation).
“You alright, Remus?” Molly said softly, putting her hand over mine gently.
Trying desperately not to recoil from her touch I managed to stutter out, “I-I’m alright. I just need some…fresh air, you know, being inside on guard all day.”
She nodded kindly, trying to show me that she understood, even though she didn’t, really, and patted my hand as I rose from my chair, my coffee untouched. Pulling my arms through my old coat as I opened the door, I turned up the collar against the slight breeze that sent shivers down my spine; the night was cold and the waxing moon mocked me as I trudged along the freshly snow-shoveled sidewalks. It called to me, a heart wrenching croon that was getting harder and harder to throw off as the moon waxed.
I stopped at a short bridge in the first park I came to, leaning over the side and watching the sluggish river below me, ice beginning to form. My breath was fog around me and I blew on my hands to keep them warm in their tattered gloves.
I was frustrated with the way I looked and dressed, the look of an inconspicuous and untrustworthy rag-and-bone man, but I had learned to accept my fate. I still had those around me who cared meticulously, lovingly for me. Thanks to Dumbledore, may he rest in peace, and the new Minister of Magic, Arthur Weasley, I was given a few more job availabilities, but not much more than I had before. But as they always say, it’s the thought that truly counts.
Snow crunching brought me back to reality, making me look up to who was approaching me, looking casually so not to alarm a stranger, if that’s who it was; but it wasn’t, it was her. Even in the dark I just knew who it was; it was impossible not to recognize that shock of pink hair anywhere. I turned away, pretending not to notice her. I felt a heavier coat being draped around my shoulders and scowled despite myself, even though my body became a high percentage warmer. I hated pity.
“Molly said I might find you this way,” Tonks said as she mimicked my actions and leaned against the small stone bridge’s railing. I remained stonily silent. We weren’t on the best of terms since she had left on some mission for the Order a little over a month ago.
“I can’t help but think that you’re happy to see me go,” she said as I walked by the room she used when staying at Headquarters.
I stopped and looked in, and upon seeing her packing her small suitcase she only used for missions she went on, I felt a pang of worry in my heart. I hated it when she or any of the other younger or teenage members went off on missions without an older member, one from the first Order. There was never a guarantee that they would return to us alive and well in mind, body and soul. But that was a guaranteed impossibility, what with the new tortures and scenes they had to endure firsthand. No mind was safe anymore.
Leaning against the doorframe, crossing my arms nonchalantly, I said, “I didn’t even know that you were going anywhere, to tell you the truth. I seemed to not have been notified; when were you given your mission?”
She glanced over, scowling at me. “Don’t lie to me. You were at last night’s meeting, weren’t you? How could you miss such information?”
“Because I was more preoccupied with…other things. You know that was Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s first meeting with the Order. I was too busy trying to get their records filled out, as well as filling the demands of others. I was simply unaware of the real proceedings, it being the first of the year and all, among other things.”
I had been dubbed under-secretary for that one meeting and, unfortunately, had been dumped on, being handed every little script that needed an Order member’s approval. I hadn’t been in on a lot of the meeting, since I wasn’t taking minutes or anything. We never did, for fear of them being found. We all kept Pensieves with us of the meetings. It was really the secretary of that week’s missive to keep the Pensieve save at Grimmauld Place
“You expect me to believe that Remus Lupin, co-founder of the Order of the Phoenix was not paying attention to the proceedings of the council?” She was trying not to loose her temper, but was failing miserably.
“Yes,” I said calmly, trying not to set her off. “Because it’s true, Nymphadora.”
“That’s not an adequate enough excuse, Lupin!”
“Since when do you call me Lupin?” I said, taken aback. I could see her bristling with anger, as if there were tiny sparks that were flying off her, giving her a dangerous, and powerful aura.
“Since when do you call me Nymphadora? You only call me that when you think I’m being childish, don’t you?” Her voice level rose steadily until the lamp on her bedpost shuddered and the magical light fizzed a bit. “Don’t you?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do. Now, move along, you overgrown, pompous PRAT! I have a portkey to catch!” Her voice was shrill and strained. Angrily, she slammed the next shirt into the small vinyl suitcase. As I walked up the stairs, moving slowly because of an injury, I thought I heard the sound of a small, choked sob, but brushed it away as a sound from one of the many demented portraits, or the faulty heating or plumbing.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
“So, you’re back,” I said, cursing myself for my foolhardiness silently, as I had so blatantly stated an obvious fact. “Was you’re mission successful?”
“You could say that,” she said, twirling her wand around in two fingers nonchalantly, her voice quiet and mysterious. I eyed her nervously, but more specifically the wand she so casually revealed to all around.
“Stop that, Nymphadora; there could be muggles around! Or worse!” I hissed to her.
Abruptly, the wand twirling stopped and she pointed it at me threateningly, sticking it so close to my neck right below my ear that I could hear the crackling of magic waiting to be released inside of its core. Her brows were furrowed in anger, a small, natural crease forming between them, a lock of hair falling over one eye, giving her an even more dangerous look with her bubblegum pink, earlobe-length hair softly waving in the slight breeze. Although now, in her anger, it was turning red rapidly, from tips to scalp.
“Remus Lupin, stop treating me as if I was a cheeky, thick-headed child! I know what I’m doing, thank you very much, and you’d take care not to reprimand me like one!” I held my hands up in silent surrender and, with her sour face smoothing back into an emotionless staring at the moon, she pocketed her wand, her hair receding back to the pink it usually was; although nowadays it wasn’t nearly as bright, but I tried not to think about that.
There were a few moments of silence that weren’t exactly awkward, but were far from friendly and filled with a tenseness that could have been cut through with a butter knife. She sighed deeply, scuffing one foot in the snow, spraying icy bits into the wall of the low stone bridge.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it, Remus?”
I scowled, knowing for certain that she was talking about the moon, and that our conversation was most likely to evolve into another row; one that we had had before and hadn’t finished. Trying not to sound as exasperated as I was, I said, “If you were in my shoes, you wouldn’t think so.”
“Oh, but I do.” Her eyes glassed over as if she was in another place, another time better than this. “The feel of grass crushing beneath your feet and the smell wafting into your nose, the snapping and rustling of brush under your feet, the rush of wind on your face and the strain of the speed on every muscle of your body,” she sighed contentedly. “It’s glorious.”
I stood riveted and completely still, every muscle tensed. I slowly looked around at her, knowing my hands were balling into fists and my shoulders were shaking from the indescribable tension; and she looked horrified, as she well should have been in the face of what she was about to receive from my wrath.
“I-I meant it must be glorious! For you! You know how overactive my imagination is, Remus, you’ve said so yourself!”
She looked on the verge of tears, or running the opposite direction, as far as she could get from me. Her face was white, as was her hair in her fright and her eyes wide looking the perfect picture of guilty. I could feel my face burning with a wild, unsurpassed rage.
“You seem to know a lot about being a werewolf,” I growled threateningly. It was hard to keep from transforming now; whenever I felt an extreme emotion, mainly rage or sorrow, I could barely help myself but to escape to that blissfully primitive mind that had no other worries than to eat, sleep, and find shelter from the elements, and one’s enemies. It was for that simple way of thinking that I envied animals. The calling of the moon was almost too heavy to throw off.
Her face fell, but, in an instant, she was back to old stubborn self, pink hair and all. “How can you be ashamed for what you are, Remus?” she asked quietly.
I scoffed, holding up my hands and ticking off fingers as I took roll. “Let’s see, the lack of a real, paying job, the threat you make to other people, the pain you go through the week before and after the full moon and the scorn from others. And you can’t forget the vile potion that keeps you sane. Does that cover it?”
“You can’t let the feelings of others get to you, Remus. You’re bigger than that. Everyone knows it. I know it.” Her voice had been strong and defiant at first, but it went quiet and meek as she finished. Her chin drooped, and I picked it up with one finger so that she would look at me.
“Why did you do it, Tonks?” I asked her. “More importantly, how did you do it?”
“Well, being Metamorphmagus and all, I just pictured what I would look like and then-” I put a silencing finger to her lips and she stopped.
“Forget it. I don’t want to know.” I took my finger from her lips and leaned in, about to kiss her. She had done something incredibly stupid and foolhardy, but she had done it for me. She took in a small breath and tensed suddenly, but relaxed, her eyes closing ever so slowly. I came a few inches from her face, then realized what I was doing, what I had promised not to do, and stopped. Her eyes fluttered open.
“But I still want to know why,” I said.
Her eyes filled with sadness. “You know why I did it. I’ve already told you how I felt about you once before.” She sighed. “The worst mistake of my life, now that I cannot escape it.”
“Tonks, you know why-” She drew away from me suddenly, the tears finally coming.
“No more of your excuses! I’ve heard it all before, Lupin! It’s either that I’m too young for you, you’re too old for me, it’s too risky right now, what with the war and all, or some other bloody reason that has nothing to do with how we…well, I feel! I’m not even sure that you can feel, Master Lupin.” She sucked in a breath of defiance, puffing up her chest. “I’ll be one my way now, sir. Good night to you!”
“Nymphadora!” I called; she did not turn, and kept defiantly walking away from me, head bent against the wind that had considerably picked up over the last few minutes. “Nymphadora! TONKS!”
“I SAID GOOD-NIGHT!” And with that final bellow, she Apparated away.
I knew that I had to find her, so I concentrated hard on the place where Tonks was and felt the familiar squeezing sensation that meant I had succeeded, hoping with every fiber of my body, that I had been successful.
An abandoned moor, near to a certain Wizarding School
He could be such a goddamn prat! How obvious did I have to be to get his attention? How much farther did I have to go, just to get burned, again? I mean, bloody hell, I couldn’t take it anymore! So I did the next best thing to slapping him silly, and walked away, Apparating far away from him.
I slammed my fists into the nearest tree, and noticed for the first time, vaguely through my tears that fought vivaciously to spill, that I Apparated into the Forbidden Forest. I was surprised that I was here, especially since I was so close to the line where Apparation ceased. Sitting down on a nearby moss covered rock I looked down at my feet that were half-submerged in snow.
The snow earned a small dimple from a tear that had rebelliously escaped my lashes and fell to the ground. Sniffling piteously I looked up to where the moon shone, nearly a full moon. I cursed myself silently, berating my stupidity.
Since it was so close to the full moon, he would have been having “moon swings”, the same things that females get before their menstrual cycle but more dangerous, because a werewolf before he, or she, transformed was unpredictable in the last two days, in the emotional sense; Werewolf Pre-Moon-Syndrome. Great, that’s all we need. He had told me about it about a year ago, when he was acting strangely, and I had persisted him, asking what was wrong.
While I was sitting here, wallowing in my self pity, I didn’t notice that someone had joined me in the clearing until I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“A terrible beauty,” came a soft voice from behind me, making me jump. “One that is so hard to resist.”
I stood and brushed his hand off, turning to face him. “You are a prick. I let my feelings flow like a bloody river and you just stand there as if you don’t give a damn!” I furiously wiped my eyes and kept my hands up to my eyes. “Tell me the truth, do you love me or not?”
I looked up at him, my eyes red and cheeks wet, and I scrutinized his face. He was looking away from me, up at the moon still and this infuriated me. “So what is it?” I exclaimed.
“Tonks, I’ve told you before,” he started, but I cut him off.
“Oh, I know as well as hell what you’ve told me before and it’s not a straight answer! I love you, Remus Lupin. You don’t know what I’ve done for you!”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to show him. I had to show him what I had finally accomplished. I turned and walked a few paces away from him and stood where the moonlight totally bathed me totally in its luminescence. I let myself go, lost myself in the rays of cold light, let myself be drawn in, closer and closer to what I craved most of all.
I started to feel the transformations take over my body and I went rigid, all save for my mouth. I forced it to form the words that I had found in an ancient text, letting my Metamorphmagus genes do the rest, with their help.
At first, the transformation had hurt like hell, and I had passed out after I had successfully done it, but now, it was merely a burning sensation I felt. I shook myself so that my fur, thick for winter, came out in waves. My clothes, after a simple spell I said before my mouth turned muzzle, made them fold neatly on the rock I had been sitting on. Covered in fur and bones almost totally changed, I drooped to my knees, or rather, to all fours. I closed my eyes as the searing pain, meaning they were changing, took them over. Opening them again, it was complete.
I took in, with the eyes that I knew to be turned to a soft amber color at my command, an utterly floored Remus Lupin. My newly acquired tail, which had been swishing in the snow behind me slowly stopped brushing the snow aside as I watched his expression go from unemotional, to angry (which I could deal with), to sorrowful.
He tried to speak to me, but in my wolf form, I had no idea what it was that he had said to me. Seeing my confusion in the form of my head tilted to the side, his shoulders heaved in a sigh, and I watched as he looked up to the moon, shuddered violently for a few moments, and began the transformation that I had already completed.
Even though it was slightly expected, I was still mildly surprised when he so gracefully shed his human form for the more acute-sensed form of a werewolf. Luckily for me, I guess, I was not subject to the usual wrath a human would encounter.
Tonks, I can’t believe you, came his voice. I mean, it was his voice, but more rough and wolfish, so much so that it gave me a slight case of the shivers.
My anger flared. Yeah, like I’ve said, Lupin, I’ve heard it before! ‘I’m so childish, unthinking!’ It about makes me SICK!
I felt betrayed. Here I was: spilling my guts to the man I had given my heart to, and for what? More reprimanding, something I didn’t need.
No, came a soft reply. I turned to look back after I had stalked away a few feet. I sat down in the snow and cocked my head to the side, showing my confusion. He heaved a deep wuff that greatly resembled a sigh.
No, Tonks. I can’t believe that you would sacrifice your powers by doing something, pardon the term, perverse as changing your form to something that can only be achieved by being bitten. Or so I thought; you seemed to have proved me wrong. On so many levels. He hesitated, his yellow eyes glancing to and fro from my own to someplace amongst the trees.
I think I’m falling for you, he said quietly.
I was so surprised that my hold on the wolf-form dissipated and I was left, slowly transforming back to a human, scrambling for my clothing. As soon as it was complete, I turned to him, who had done the same.
“Do you really mean that?” I whispered.
He looked at me with a searching gaze, one that showed that he knew what he was doing wasn’t the best choice, but the right one.
[a/n] So, how was it? You like? You not like? Reviews of both kinds are welcome! Reade Anne Revue is ever at the ready in the little grey box below…