Author's Note: Enjooooy!
Disclaimer: The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this story derives from her original works, storylines, and world. Please do not sue me, I can barely pay tuition.
Warnings: NA
Stacked with: MC4A; Terms of Services; Shipping War
Individual Challenge(s): Gryffindor MC (x2); Hufflepuff MC; Short Jog (Y), Bow Before the Blacks; Fall Leaves; Seeds
Representation(s): TAs Remus and Tonks
Bonus challenge(s): Second Verse (Not a Lamp); Chorus (Pocky Pockets); Demo (White Dress; Rock of Ages; Hot Apple; Getting On; Creature Feature; Tomorrow's Shade; Bee Haven; Wabi Sabi; Odd Feathers)
Tertiary bonus challenge: NA
Word Count: 1665
Shipping Wars
Ship (Team): Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin (Technicolour Moon)
List (Prompt): Medium 2 (College/University AU)
Chapter By Chapter
Remus frowned, glancing at the reserves' shelves one more time to really, really make sure that his book wasn't there.
"Excuse me," he asked the reserves librarian. "Excuse me, sorry. I had a book on hold, and I was told it would be there by now…"
"Of course," Mrs. Pinch said, looking through her papers. "What was the book?"
"Bathilda Bagshot's History of Witches in Southern Europe," Remus said. He chewed on his lip and anxiously glanced at the clock behind her; he didn't want to be late…
"Of course, dear," she said. "We put it there this morning."
"Really?" Remus asked. "Under my name?"
"Of course," she said, annoyed.
He didn't want to push further and he didn't have time to anyways. He wouldn't even have time to pick up coffee on his way to the meeting—what a great Monday this was turning out to be.
He thanked Mrs. Pinch quietly and ducked out, vowing to circle back to the mystery of the vanishing tomme later. He made it across campus in the Faculty of Arts' building in record time, making it to Dr McGonagall's office in record time.
"Hello Remus," she said from the spot at her desk where she was overlooking some correspondence. One wall of the office was covered with books, and behind her desk was a large window looking onto the campus' green. A comfortable reading chair where Minnie, the office cat, was currently lounging completed the office's look, along with two less comfortable chairs placed in front of her desk for visiting students.
"Hello," he said.
"Wotcher."
"You can close the door behind you," McGonagall said. He did, and then took in the other person at the meeting—a woman with bubblegum pink hair and piercings in her septum and cheeks. The backpack at her feet was covered in buttons for various groups and initiatives, and the notebook she was looking through was held together by duct tape and what appeared to be sheer dumb luck.
"Hello," he said, holding his hand out. "You must be Nymphadora…"
"Tonks," the girl corrected, taking his hand.
"But yes, she's my new Masters' student," McGonagall called again. "Mrs. Tonks, this is Mr. Remus Lupin. He's currently my PhD student, also studying the history of the occult in Britain. Specifically, he's comparing French, English, and Scottish werewolf trials in the early modern era."
"Fascinating," Tonks said. "I'd love to hear more about it…"
"You may entertain each other with your research subjects at a latter date and may be more comfortable doing so at the campus pub," McGonagall interrupted.
Remus shot Tonks a smile; she'd get used to it. McGonagall was a big softie, really. That biscuit jar was on her desk for a reason, after all.
"For now," the professor continued, "let us look over the syllabus I have prepared. Mrs. Tonks, M. Lupin has been a teaching assistant for many years—and a good one at that. Should you have any questions, I am sure that he will prove to be an invaluable resource."
"It would be my pleasure," Remus said, turning to look at Tonks. That's when he noticed that she was holding her notebook on top of a book to use as a writing surface. A big, orange book with History of Witches in Southern Europe emblazoned on the spine.
She'd stolen his book.
He was shocked by the audacity and boldness of it, but held his tongue until they'd finished going over McGonagall's syllabus and she'd explained classroom expectations and assignments in great detail. She'd been teaching for years, and HIST189: History of the Occult was her favourite class of all.
When they were in the hallway afterwards, Remus managed to make polite conversation instead of immediately accusing the new girl of theft. Well, petty theft. Though it didn't feel petty since it was his book that was concerned.
"I graduated from Cambridge before coming here," Tonks answered his question.
"Me too," he nodded. "Now if you don't mind me asking, I see that you have a book with you… See, I had it placed on hold at the library."
"That's funny. I just picked it up from the reserves shelf this morning," Tonks said.
Remus frowned.
"When did you fill in the call form for it?"
"Friday," she said.
"I placed my order in on Thursday," he said. "It must have been a simple logistical error."
"Alright," Tonks said. "Well, I'll make sure to read it quickly, then, and you can have it."
Remus didn't know what to reply.
"I need it for my research," he said simply.
"So do I. Besides, don't you research werewolves?"
"Werewolves were frequently tried and hung as witches, depending on whether the county had developed a separate judicial protocol," he blurted. That wasn't the thing to say at the moment; he should have been convincing her that the book was rightfully his.
"Interesting," Tonks said. "Learning lots, but every moment I spend here talking with you could be better spent getting through this."
She knocked her knuckled against the cover and grinned.
"I'll see you in class, tomorrow," he said.
And with that, she sauntered away.
With his book.
McGonagall had explicitly told them to sit together, in the front row, and so there they were—notebooks, coffee, and pens in hand. He saw his book sticking out of her bag; according to the bookmark, she appeared to be about a quarter of the way in.
Remus chewed his lip and wondered how much trouble he'd be in if she just snatched it right there and then. Maybe he should wait until the break, when she ran out to grab another coffee… No, he'd want coffee too; he'd been up all night spiralling into obsessively checking the punctuation on his thesis' draft, instead of doing something useful and proactive.
"Look," he said at the end of class. "I really only need to read one chapter of that book. Two, at most."
"Hmm," she said. "Why don't I photocopy it for you then?"
"That would be great," Remus said. Finally: a place of reasonable discussion. "Thank you for…"
She smiled and disappeared into the crowd of bubbly undergraduates before he could tell her which chapter (two, at most) he needed.
Bloody hell.
Thursday, when they had lecture again, Tonks was sitting at their usual spot. She had a kraft envelope for him.
"Thank you," Remus said when he saw it.
"Wait," Tonks said. "I'll give it to you if you get me coffee before class starts."
"What?" Remus asked.
She smiled but didn't say anything. After a few moments of quiet, she shrugged.
"I mean, I did take time out of my life to go photocopy this for you…" she said.
Remus couldn't believe it, but he was too shocked to protest.
"How do you take it?"
"Black, thanks."
He returned, and the transaction took place. During lecture, he slipped the pages out of the envelope and…
This was chapter 8.
He did not need chapter 8.
"This isn't the right one," he whispered to her.
"You didn't tell me which one you needed," she said, bringing the coffee to her lips. "Now shush, I'm trying to pay attention."
His roommates were of no help at all, and actually thought that this was hilarious when Remus dragged himself back into the shabby house they rented on campus and complained.
"She's holding a book hostage," Sirius grinned.
"Fuck off," Remus said. They were all sitting around the beat-up kitchen table, eating spaghetti drenched in canned tomatoes. Peter had found parmesan cheese at the dollar store not too long ago, which was fun. They ate poorly when Remus wasn't in charge of grocery shopping.
"Threaten to tell McGonagall," Peter suggested.
"I'm not going to tell McGonagall," Remus said. "I don't need her to fight my fights."
"Really?" James asked. "Could've fooled me."
"This is extortion," Remus said, crossing his arms. It had been her turn to clean the graduate student lounge in the history department's corridor, and he'd cleared all the stray mugs, swept the place, washed down the chalkboards, and done the dishes. In exchange, she handed over chapter… fuck, chapter 6. What good was chapter 6?
"Okay," she smiled.
He graded one of her tutorial class' pop quizzes in exchange for chapters 2, 9, and the book's introduction.
"I need chapter 14," he sighed. "Maybe 12. Haven't you finished reading the whole thing by now anyways?"
"It was so good, I had to give it a second read," Tonks said with a smile.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
"This isn't a game, I need it for my research."
"So do I," she said defensively.
"We could literally go to the library right now and photocopy it together and be done with it," Remus said, exasperated.
"And what would we talk about after that?" Tonks said.
"Literally anything," Remus sighed. "We could talk about literally anything. It would be my greatest fucking pleasure to take you out to the pub for dinner one night, and we could talk about anything but this godforsaken book."
Tonks grinned.
"Really, eh? Your greatest fucking pleasure?"
Remus stopped and considered himself.
"Yes," he said. "You seem quite lively and thoughtful when you aren't actively trying to ruin my life."
"Well, then dinner sounds lovely," she said. "I'll leave a note regarding time and place in your mailbox which, by the way, you should check more often."
She packed up and touched his arm on her way out. He gave her a few seconds before going out into the hallways, and making straight for the mailboxes where students were to slip assignments. He unlocked his and nearly swore when he saw what was inside: a manila envelope, containing his book.
"She left that there for you nearly two weeks ago," McGonagall said, poking her head out of her office.
"And nobody thought to tell me?" Remus asked.
"I must admit; the chapter-by-chapter approach was much more entertaining."