Apologies about the non-beta-ness. Carry on though! (And sorry about the earlier mistake – Lupin admitted he was a werewolf twice. Well, at least we know it thoroughly isn't an issue!)

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Chapter Eight – Jonesborough

Tonks looked up sharply. Molly Weasley's voice had snapped like a whip through the small kitchen, and Lupin thought her reaction highly amusing. Clearly she can't have been paying attention to the conversation for some considerable time to have been that surprised. He glanced at her, and thought – though it was equally likely he'd imagined it – that he saw her blush.

"I want you in bed, now. All of you,"

Molly was saying, and Lupin tore his eyes away from Tonks' pink neck to listen.

"You can't boss us—"

"Watch me," Molly growled. "You've given Harry enough information. Any more and you might just as well induct him into the Order straightaway."

Lupin knew what was coming as soon as Molly let the words out of her mouth. Harry was so much like James – there was no way he could ignore the appeal of that idea.

"Why not?" he said. "I'll join, I want to join, I want to fight."

He had to step in.

"No."

He felt all eyes swing to him, particularly Tonks'.

"The Order is comprised only of overage wizards. Wizards who have left school," he added, as Fred and George's mouths opened. Even as he heard himself say it, he knew that he never who have stood for it himself – being of age was as qualified as you needed to be in the wizarding world. He felt torn between a desire to treat them all fairly, and the desire – the overwhelming desire – to keep them all safe. "There are dangers involved of which you can have no idea," he explained carefully, "any of you… I think Molly's right, Sirius," he said, searching for support. Sirius blinked at him, looking irritated that he'd pulled him into it. "We've said enough."

Sirius half-shrugged, and Lupin recognised the action as his 'all-right-but-I'm-not-bloody-well-happy-about-it' gesture. He threw him a small, tight small, that Sirius returned only fractionally.

As Harry, Ron, Hermione and the twins left the room, Lupin couldn't help but feel guilty. As much as he hated to admit it, because it tore away from him the illusion of being able to treat Harry as an equal, along with the others, he couldn't bring himself to accept that they were ready for what they might have to face if they joined the Order. There simply wasn't any way in which they could prepare themselves.

"You were right, Remus," Tonks said softly next to him. "They're not ready for all that."

Remus looked at her, and saw her bright eyes smiling gently. She made it seem so small when she encompassed the entirety of all they knew in two small words: 'all that'…

Sirius snorted grumpily and hauled himself over to the pantry.

Lupin found his head in his hands. Was it really fair that they didn't tell Harry everything he needed to know? Harry was, after all, in many ways the most qualified to know.

He felt a small hand on his shoulder, and was amazed at how the warmth of Tonks' palm managed to seep through his thick jumper, and shirt, and spread throughout his whole body.

"It's massive, isn't it?" she said quietly, the words not sounding like a question.

He smiled. "Yes, it is. Very much so."

Tonks hesitated for a moment, then slipped from her chair to perch on the arm of his, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Somehow hugs seemed to be on the cards tonight. He flushed unexpectedly at the affection and comfort. It was a somewhat alien feeling for him. He lent his head back against her shoulder and felt the smell of butterscotch and pine trees wafting over him.

"Do you want a cup of tea?" he heard Tonks ask, muffled into his shoulder though it was.

He nodded, somehow finding his voice mysteriously absent. She disappeared suddenly, and he listened as she crossed to the dresser to collect cups. Sirius barged out of the pantry, muttered something hasty and huffy to Tonks and dashed away up the stairs. Tonks busied herself with the kettle and sat back down with two steaming mugs.

"Sirius has gone to feed Buckbeak," she said.

"Yes," Remus said mildly. "I'm sure he has." He looked at his mug. "Sugar?"

"Yes, Honey?" she said absently, before grinning cheekily. He laughed, trying to ignore the flaming in his face. She wrinkled her nose. "Three sugars, as always."

"Thank you."

"Not a problem."

He was acutely aware of her watching him as he took a tentative sip, testing the temperature. She needn't have worried – he'd drunk tea she'd made before and had thought it beat Molly Weasley's. He thought it might be because she didn't make it in a teapot; she just sloshed the water straight over the bag in the mug. Like he did: it made it stronger. Why had he paid so much attention to how she made tea?

"Lovely," he said, smiling kindly. She beamed.

"Good," she said smugly. "'Cause I'm not making you another one."

They sat in silence for a while, drinking their tea and each apparently absorbed in their own thoughts. Remus was beginning to feel cold, and think about how it was probably time he went to bed. Tonks was looking at him again.

"I enjoy a good scrutiny as much the next man," he said. "But I think if you told me what was on your mind, it might make reassurances a lot less problematic."

Tonks laughed. "You might have a point there," she said into her mug. She peered up, raising a brow. "But how do you know I don't just want to stare at the side of your head."

"Because I was under the impression that you weren't that weird."

He'd expected her to laugh – or hoped she would – but it wasn't what he expected. It wasn't that it sounded hollow, just that it sounded… preoccupied. He lifted his eyes and saw a small and indefinable something loitering behind eyes that suddenly seemed much deeper and darker than before.

"I'm actually quite fond of the side of your head, Remus. And that doesn't feel so weird to me."

Dragging his eyes away was what he should be doing. He understood that the surface of the table should suddenly become very interesting to him. He should be giving her the opportunity to duck her head, cough loudly, and make a joke about something repulsive or work-based. But what he was actually doing was staring at her. Caught up and drowning in the bottomless pools of her brown eyes. They whispered to him. They sung strange songs that made him want to lunge across the table and crush his mouth to hers.

"Doesn't it?"

His chest felt too tight.

Tonks smiled softly, soothingly, and all of a sudden he wondered what the hell had confused and befuddled him so.

"No, it doesn't. If I couldn't stand looking at the side of your head, don't you think I would have stopped sitting next to you at every available opportunity by now?" She leant forward on the table, looking away from his gaze, determinedly towards her golden bracelet as she fiddled idly with it, tracing the tiny ridges and contours of one of the charms. Her finger slipped to the next one along and turned it upright, revealing a tiny intricate watch with tiny gold cogs, suspended in a minute glass bulb.

"It's getting late," she said. "I'd better go. Early shift in the morning." She stood up slowly, and Remus jumped up after her, before trying to appear less eager.

"Are you sure?" he asked, swallowing. "If you'd like another cup of tea…"

The suggestion hung in the air like a bird, fluttering and cuffing its wings against the lampshade.

She smiled. "Nope, I've got to hit the road, I think. I wish I could stay," she added hurriedly, "but—"

"No, no," he replied quickly, nodding. "You've got to go. I understand."

She grinned. "Another time. Promise."

"Good," he nodded, giving her a warm smile. "Do you need me to Apparate you home?" he asked.

"Auror, remember?" Tonks smirked. "I'm more qualified than you are to get home alone."

"Yes, of course," he smiled firmly.

Tonks watched him for a minute, the light from the streetlamps outside spilling into the hallway. Mad-Eye would kill them for standing there with the door wide open.

"Night, Remus."

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Tonks was woken two days later, in the middle of the night, by a frantic crashing, tapping, scratching noise. When she managed to prise her eyes open, she saw that an owl was repeatedly flinging itself against the window, a parchment scroll tight in its talons. She leapt out of bed and opened the window, to have the owl swoop straight to her bed and become tangled in the covers. Hastily Tonks released the scroll, and carried the owl through to the kitchen, so that it could take its pick from the leftovers of her dinner.

Tonks,

There's been a Deatheater attack in Ireland. The Ministry don't know yet, so get ready to move in ten minutes. We're coming to get you at quarter-past one.

Remus.

Tonks flung herself back into the bedroom. One-fifteen glowed purple across the room from her bedside table. Almost the instant that the thought registered in her head, accompanied by a desperately wobbly feeling of horror, there was a soft tap on her front door.

"Bollocks!"

"Tonks – it's Remus – could you let us, please?"

She did, dashing to pull back the Yale lock. She drew in a calming breath and pulled her shoulders back stubbornly.

"You're not ready," Lupin said obviously, when she'd opened the door. Moody stood behind him to the left, and Arthur Weasley was to the right. Tonks glared at him, daring him to test her. He seemed a little bit too concerned with taking in the fact that she was dressed only in a pair of knickers and a camisole of a shocking lime green to notice the expression on her face, though.

"I only just got your message," she said softly, finding it oddly enthralling to see Lupin visibly swallow, and tear his eyes back to her eyes.

"Well don't just stand there, Tonks," Moody growled, shoving his way past them and knocking Lupin into action. "Get some clothes on and lets go. Didn't Lupin warn you this was a twenty-four-hour operation? Come on, girl, move."

Tonks rolled her eyes, and Lupin shook his head dimly.

"I believe I may have mentioned—"

"Shut up, Remus," Tonks interrupted. "Come with me – I've got no idea what's going on, not on me own."

Pulling himself together, he gestured for her to lead the way.

As soon as she entered the bedroom to threw open her wardrobe doors, and pulled out layers of clothing and slung them onto her bed.

"So what do I need, Lupin?" she said over her shoulder, tugging on jeans. "Wand, flares, potions, hexes?"

"Your wand should be perfectly suff…"

She smirked: she'd completely stripped her camisole off in one brisk movement – facing away from him – and was pushing the straps of a raspberry bra hastily over her shoulders.

"Sufficient…" Lupin finished. Huskily.

"Well what's the situation? Come on, Remus, I'm used to working with a lot more information than I've been so far."

There was a long pause. She pulled on a jumper and turned around, grabbing a pair of Converse trainers from a shelf behind Lupin and brushing past him to reach them, before darting off into the living room.

"Well, as far as I'm aware, a group of Deatheaters have attempted a raid on a wizarding village just outside of Dublin. We can't internationally Apparate without pre-approval, so we're going to have to Apparate to a village called Jonesborough, and cross the boarder via a contact of ours. If we Apparate straight there the Ministry will know immediately and we cannot risk drawing attention to ourselves."

"Righto. Ready when you are, Mad-eye, let's go."

"Side-Along, Tonks – get hold of Lupin and Arthur."

The four Order members joined in a circle of squashed elbow-clutching, Mad-Eye's wand held out in the middle.

"Count of three, everyone step right sharpish. One, two, three—"

It was the most uncomfortable Side-Along that Tonks had ever experienced. Instead of two of you being squeezed through tight rubber tube, twice as many people were wrapped up, and for the five seconds of travel, Tonks felt like she was being held underwater. Jonesborough couldn't come soon enough.

She fell – almost fainted, in truth – once her feet hit solid ground, and it took her a few moments of severe disorientation before she realised she was only still upright because Remus, thought staggering slightly under his own fuzzy balance, was holding her upright, his fingers digging into her upper arms. He smelt like shaving foam and soap.

Fog laid thickly all around them, so much so that any indications of where they were, or even what direction they were facing in were completely wiped out. There was absolutely no light, it was pitch black, and freezing. Tonks felt a sharp pant of warm breath on her lips, and could almost sense Remus, incredibly close to her. Swiftly, but reluctantly, she let go of him, her ears adjusting to the sounds of wherever they'd landed. She'd think about the tingling sensation travelling down her spine once they'd completed their mission.

There was barely any wind, barely any sense of movement at all. The only things making any noise were themselves, which was an off-putting experience. She felt Mad-Eye appear next to her.

"No-one about," he muttered, by way of telling them it was safe to talk. She knew his magic eye could see far better than any of they could.

"Where are we?"

"Bottom of a hill. Jonesborough Look-out Post is at the summit – that's where we've got to get to."

"Lead the way."

The hill was reasonably steep, but not uncomfortably so, and it was only fifty meters or so to the top. Tonks fell into step with Lupin.

"Why here?"

Remus's arm kept bumping hers as they followed close behind Moody and Arthur Weasley, so as not to loose them.

"It sits just on the boarder between Northern Ireland and the Republic. There should be a warlock there who works with Dumbledore, and can get us over the boarder legally, so that the Ministry aren't automatically informed, but hopefully in a more time-efficient manner than the usual passages."

"Right."

The warlock greeted them halfway down the hill.

"Moody! Come on over here y'old scoundrel!" The voice echoed out of the darkness, rich though rough with age, and with a gruff Irish accent.

"Hamlae?"

"Y'alright, y'old sod. Havn't seen y'in an age!"

Lupin and Tonks could see nothing of the exchange going on up front, they could only hear. Moody's voice dropped to a low rumble.

"You know why we're here, Hamlae. We need to get on – it's urgent Order business."

"Righto, righto. Well, assumin' yeh survive, come back this way an' we'll do the pleasantries then. This way Mad-Eye, and y'lot."

Without warning, perhaps seeing something she'd missed, Lupin had grabbed her hand and they were moving at a quicker pace, following Moody and Arthur, and the unseen Hamlae. The entire situation was making her Auror-sharpened nerves jangle with trepidation, but Remus's hand was irritatingly cool and firm in hers, and suddenly she wasn't as worried.

"Do you know anything else about this Deatheater raid, Remus?" she asked breathily, jogging up the hill, hand poised near her wand, and feeling glad she'd worn reasonable footwear.

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