Author's Note: Enjoy!

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; Shipping War; Animal Verses; Ornate Oscillating Obelisks; Remains of War

Individual Challenge(s): Gryffindor MC; Hufflepuff MC; Seeds; Shipmas; Golden Times; Old Shoes; Themes and Things A (Change); Themes and Things B (Loneliness); Themes and Things C (Pillow); True Colours; Rian-Russo Inversion; In a Flash

Representation(s): Remus Lupin; breakup

Bonus challenge(s): Creature Feature; Second Verse (Tomorrow's Shade); Chorus (Middle Name)

Tertiary bonus challenge: Oust

Word Count: 702

Shipping Wars

Ship (Team): Nymphadora Tonks/Remus Lupin (Technicolour Moon)

List (Prompt): Summer Medium 1 (Bittersweet)

On Hurting More Than Strictly Necessary

I wish you peace

I wish you the best

Wherever you'll go

Whatever you 'll do

I wish you the best

-Wish You The Best, Per Gessle

Remus hadn't felt this tired, tight-chested, and sore after a full moon in a long, long time. He tried not to dwell on it as he made his way back to the cottage. He also tried not to dwell on the list of things he had to do before crawling into bed and sleeping off the previous night's transformation: build a fire to heat the house, bandage the cuts dug into his wrists and ankles by the shackles he'd been bound in, throw up the protective spells around the cottage, finish the pain draught he'd left to simmer overnight, try to force some down some water… He was exhausted just thinking about it, struggling to keep his eyes open.

Still, this wasn't his first time recovering from the full moon alone and it wouldn't be his last. That was a choice he had made, one that was for the best. He had to remember that. And with that in mind, there was no time to dwell on the comfortable quarters he'd returned to Grimmauld Square to find last month; of how Sirius had had freshly brewed sleeping and pain droughts ready for him, how the house had been warm, his bed soft, how Dora had come to curl up with him…

Do not dwell, he reminded himself.

He put himself through his routine; through the bare minimum that had to be done before he could crumple. Even if he'd spent the last year and a bit in a completely different situation, this was familiar enough for his autopilot to take over. Every movement hurt his newly transformed body down to its bones and fickle, delicate nerve endings. He trekked through, breathing deeply through the aches like he'd learned over the years.

Finally, he was putting the last touch on the pain draught. All that was left was to sprinkle with crushed Ashwinder eggshell and he was done. For this day, at least.

He opened the cabinet where he kept his less-frequently used potion ingredients, and found himself faced with a shoebox tied shut with red yarn. He sighed deeply at his own disorganization, for putting whatever this was in the wrong spot, and lowered it onto the counter before seeing the note tucked under the string, labeled with his name in a very familiar handwriting…

He frowned and slipped it out, turning to read the other side.

Remus,

You once told me how difficult your first transformation alone after you lost Lily and James and Sirius was, and I didn't want that to happen to you again. I'll respect your wishes if space is what you want, but I won't let you hurt more than strictly necessary. Remember me if you don't want to be alone. If you need anything, please send an owl. Regardless of what you choose to do, I hope this helps.

Best,

Dora

He opened the box and sighed. There was a soft blanket from Grimmauld Place that had been in the living room, draped over the back of the sofa and often pulled down when they were listening to an interesting radio show. There was a pack of a loose-leaf tea designed to deepen sleep from an apothecary that had just retired from Diagon Alley. A pair of wool socks. A pomade that was good for cuts and scrapes of magical origins, but that was hard to acquire as the potion-maker disliked being associated with werewolves. Instant oatmeal, a can of tomato soup, and a Muggle protein bar, like the ones that the Aurors kept industrial quantities of in their headquarters. And four chocolate bars; all bittersweet chocolate.

He slid one out and looked at its colourful wrapping for a second. It was an American brand, hard to find, but he and Dora had seen them once while running groceries for the Order and he'd pointed them out. Had she really remembered?

He looked at the note again. Best, Dora. Not yours, Dora, like before.

"Don't dwell on that either," Remus said. He had chosen that too.

He sighed, but couldn't deny how much better he felt with the bittersweet chocolate bar under his pillow and the blanket wrapped around him as he finally went to sleep.