Author's Notes: Originally written for the April ficathon at RTChallenge at Live Journal.

Raising the Bar

Tonks made her way down the cold stone steps that led to the basement of Number 12, she had in her hands two cups of coffee and tucked in a pocket of her robes was a large bar of chocolate.

When the door at the top of the steps creaked open heavily, Remus knew precisely who was on their way down. Even if it weren't for the fact that her intoxicating scent had immediately engulfed the room, the slight huff as she closed the door behind her was unmistakable.

'I told you to stay away,' he said with as much conviction as he was able to muster.

'If you had asked me rather than told me,' she replied with out missing a beat, 'I might have been more inclined to listen.'

He watched closely as, inch by inch, her body came in to view as she made her careful way down the winding staircase.

He sighed deeply, knowing what her reaction would be. Desperately he had fought with her not to come to this place, not ever, and especially not tonight.

'Merlin, Remus,' she uttered, astonished, when the full squalor of the room had been revealed to her. 'How on earth could Sirius let you….'

'Sirius didn't need to be wasting his time making this area hospitable for a werewolf.' He interrupted her. 'He had enough to worry about.'

'But what about making the room fit for you?' she asked indignantly. 'Gracious, Remus! Look at this place; you are behind bars for pity's sake. Stone floor and nothing else.'

The indignation in her voice sent a thrill through his spine. Even after three blissful and passionate weeks (not to mention a year of harassment), he was unable to reconcile her enthusiasm for him. He felt a jolt coarse through his body, which he recognised instantly as the first pull of the moon as it met the golden horizon of autumn.

'It's fit for a werewolf,' he rasped as he rode the wave of nausea, trying his best to hide it from her. He lent heavily on the bars, cursing himself for having risen to his feet when he'd heard her coming, but knowing that the situation would have been all the more humiliating if she had found him shivering on the cold, hard floor.

Iron cold, her voice reverberated between the walls. 'Don't Remus, just don't,' she said, fury boiling swiftly to the surface. None-the-less she walked up to the bars and offered the still steaming cup through the barrier. He took it gratefully but he knew she hadn't missed the hurt and perhaps shame that clouded his face as her hand retreated back beyond the steel bars.

'I never wanted you to see this place,' he said softly, hanging his head, unable to meet her eyes.

'No bloody wonder! You didn't want me to see it because you knew how I'd react and if you knew that, then you know that this…' she gazed around the room pointedly, 'is not right.'

'Tonks, please. Don't do this now.'

She softened. 'Alright, I'll save the lecture for tomorrow. But I will do this.' She reached into her robes and pulled out her wand. A muttered incantation and a slight pop later, a large mattress appeared on the floor beside Remus. A couple more waves of her wand and she had dressed the bed in a fluffy duvet and pillows in the most violent shade of….

'Pink, Tonks?' He was unable to keep the note of wry amusement out of his voice.

She shrugged. 'It wasn't intentional, but things I conjure do generally turn out that way.'

Of course they do, he thought with a mixture of amusement, fondness.

If he surprised himself, it was nothing compared to the shock and indeed pleasure from evident on Tonks' face when he said, 'You know there's at least half an hour before the moon is fully risen, would you lie with me for ten minutes?'

A huge grin spread slowly across her face. 'Do you even need me to answer that question?'

When he reached for his wand to reverse the locking spell on the cage door, she held out her hand to stop him, saying, 'Don't bother.' And before he could move another inch, two cracks resounded loudly, echoing about the moss dampened walls and she was standing next to him.

They settled on the bed together, his head resting heavily on her chest as she gently stroked his hair.

After several minutes of silence during which they each took comfort from the other, he tilted his head up so that he could see her face and said, 'That lecture; would that be the one about it being okay for me to want better things for myself or the one about not beating myself up over being a werewolf?'

'The first one, love. Or do you need a refresher in the second one too?' She quirked a playful eyebrow at him.

'I don't think so,' he started seriously. 'I was just thinking that next month a slightly less lurid shade of pink would be better, perhaps a shade that closer resembles your hair?'

She swatted him playfully and reached down to kiss him softly. 'I think I can manage that,' she murmured quietly as she pushed his head down gently to rest once again on her bosom.

And Remus Lupin found himself thinking that considering what would occur in less than twenty minutes; lying here on this absurdly pink bed, in the arms of his pink-haired lover, things could scarcely be more perfect.