Five Times Nymphadora Tonks Didn't Care

I.

"You can't honestly tell me that Myron Wagtail can hold a candle to George Harrison – or any of the Beatles for that matter – in musical ability." Remus paused, then admitted, "Well, perhaps Ringo."

Tonks grinned at his obvious exasperation. "Maybe not, but he is dead sexy."

"Ah, I see at last. So appearances are more important than actual talent? I suppose that would explain Celestina Warbeck."

"And you have to admit that the Beatles are a bit … old fashioned."

He looked at her incredulously. "Oh, yes, positively out of the Middle Ages. Are you certain you can afford to be seen with a rather shabby old werewolf like me, Nymphadora? Perhaps we should take separate routes back to headquarters."

"What, you mean a witch of my obvious social standing?" she snorted, indicating her ripped jeans and spiked hair – purple today to match the scarf around her neck. "I don't care about any of that, you silly git. And don't call me Nymphadora."

II.

Lost in sensation, she barely heard the protest he whispered against her skin. "You deserve so much more than I can ever give you ..."

She lifted his head with both hands and looked him in the eye. "I deserve you Remus. I don't care about what you can't give me – it's what you do give me that makes me happy."

III.

"I don't know when I'll be back" – the 'or if' remained unspoken – "and I may not have the opportunity to contact the Order for quite some time. Greyback's pack is frequently on the move, and his caution verges on paranoia. I'll be particularly suspect, having lived in the Wizarding world for so long."

He snapped his traveling case shut and looked at her sadly. "I'll miss your birthday."

She threw her arms around him then, threading her fingers into his hair and bringing his mouth down to hers. "I don't care. Just come back to me."

IV.

"It's getting too dangerous. Greyback and his followers are becoming bolder by the day. If they knew about you and me ... You aren't safe, I can't keep you safe while I'm with the pack."

"I'm an Auror, Remus. I keep myself safe."

"It's not just Greyback. Sentiment against werewolves in general is as bad as I've ever seen it." He stared up at the ceiling and added bitterly, "Wizarding society won't look kindly on an Auror who has a dalliance with a werewolf."

She wasn't naïve; she knew their world was becoming darker by the day and that she was placing her job and quite possibly her life in danger. But they had had only a few stolen moments together during the past six months, and she'd be damned if she was going to let them take this as well. She sat up and cradled his head in her lap, running her fingers through his hair. "Shhh. I don't care what anyone else thinks. Just try to get some rest."

V.

Each time she saw him she was dismayed anew at how thin he had become, how worn he appeared. This time was different, though. This time he looked at her with haunted eyes, and she suspected his gaunt appearance had little to do with how much he had had to eat in the intervening weeks.

"This won't work, Tonks. I'm sorry, truly, but you must see that now."

She never thought she'd prefer the sound of her given name, but from him 'Tonks' sounded all wrong. Distant. He continued in his most dispassionate, professorial voice. "You cannot understand. You haven't seen what we're capable of."

"What is this 'we,' Remus? You had nothing to do with the death of that child. This was not your fault."

She tried not to feel any satisfaction as his stoic façade cracked. "You don't understand! It's a part of me, the wolf. Dumbledore may have given me a veneer of civilization, but I'm no better than they are, really. The wolf always rules the man, in the end."

"I don't care, Remus! It's my decision to make, my life!"

Anger flashed in his eyes. "But it's my life, as well, Tonks. What happens five years down the road when I can't hold a steady job and you've become a pariah because of me? What happens when there is nothing left but ashes? I won't let you be destroyed by this thing."

He leaned heavily against the wall and for a moment she thought he was going to be sick. When he turned to face her again his expression was once more a mask. "I'm sorry, I can't do this any more."

That's when she knew she had lost him.