Originally written as a trilogy for the Christmas Moon Fic Advent at the MetamorFicMoon LJ community for the prompts stars and Christmas shopping, the 1995 segment tied with pieces by Wildmagelet and Gilpin for Members' Choice awards.

"We Three Kings" was written and composed by John H. Hopkins, Jr. in 1857; "O Little Town of Bethlehem" was written by Phillips Brooks in 1867, and Hairy Snout, Human Heart is the invention of JK Rowling. I hope none of them mind the creative license I have taken with their works.

Many thanks to Godricgal for listening to many ideas and for her awesome beta work.

1995: So Stars Impart To Human Hearts, Part One

"Am I to assume this is a subtle hint about another gift you'd like to see under the Christmas tree?"

Tonks, absently humming along with the Christmas carol playing over the bookshop wireless and absorbed in a book, startled at Remus' voice rasping in her ear and the sudden warm tickle of his breath on her neck. She glanced up over her shoulder, a few strands of berry red fringe falling loose from her holly leaf barrettes; her heart accelerated even more as he smiled warmly down at her. Her lips went dry; she darted out the tip of her tongue to moisten them.

Merlin, Remus was scrummy tonight. His fringe, falling over his forehead, was highlighted golden in the glow of the shop lights; his deep burgundy scarf hung loose around his neck, contrasting with a crisp white collar that peeked just ever so slightly untidily from the v-neck of his chocolate coloured jumper. The whole outfit made his eyes look oh-so-brilliantly blue as they held her unblinkingly, crinkled at the corners with his smile.

"Just browsing," Tonks replied, a little breathlessly. Closing the book, one finger tucked inside to mark her page, she turned fully toward Remus with what she was sure must be an idiotic grin. "Got Harry's books?"

Remus held up a brown paper shopping bag emblazoned with Flourish and Blotts in loopy gold lettering. His overcoat was folded over his arm. "Gift-wrapped and ready to go under the tree."

Christmas shopping had always been one of Tonks' favourite activities of the season. She loved the festive decorations in the shops, and the cosiness of the warm, crowded interiors as night settled in early outside, and the soft Christmas tunes playing over the wireless; currently a string quartet played "Three Centaurs In Forests Far," and Tonks thought its dignified, mysterious Oriental melody was the final touch on the image of Remus finishing up the last of his Christmas shopping in the bookshop. He was completely in his element, in top form. Tonks had never realised how sexy Christmas shopping could be. Not that, in the weeks since she and Remus had begun to tentatively explore their more-than-friends relationship, she hadn't discovered that Remus made everything look sexy with his casual confidence and unstudied flair.

The problem was matching him when you were decidedly without flair, and when his lopsided grin threw you even more off-balance than normal, and the heat of his gaze made your palms go all sweaty.

Willing herself to act like the Auror she was instead of the schoolgirl she'd grown out of, Tonks thought she deserved an Order of Merlin for managing to say, in spite of a pounding heart that stole her breath, "Aha! So the mystery's revealed: Remus Lupin has his Christmas presents wrapped."

He raised a sandy eyebrow. "You chase dark wizards for a living, yet your curiosity's piqued by wanting to know whether I do my own gift wrapping?"

Tonks stabbed herself in the thigh with the corner of the book as she squared her shoulders and assumed her most imposing hands-on-hips stance.

"Is that going to bruise?" Remus asked, eyes darting down to her hip.

"You're a complex character, Lupin," said Tonks, and fought against an un-imposing smile to have commanded his curious gaze once more. "Just want to know who I'm dealing with."

The eyebrow arched higher, disappearing into his fringe. Remus took a step nearer to her, the overcoat brushing her side, and asked huskily, "Is that so?"

Tonks' mouth went dry, all the moisture apparently rushing downward to her palms, and she licked her lips again.

Again, and worthy of more awards, she managed not to stammer as she met his level gaze. "It is, sir. There were two possibilities for you, and I'd have believed either. Typical bachelor, who can't cast a straight Cutting Charm to save his life and uses far too much Spellotape, or..." She allowed her lips (which seemed unlikely to be controlled anyway) to curve in what must be a coy expression, and she dropped her voice to a flirtatious pitch. "...the creative, sensitive type, who puts as much care into the wrapping as he does into selecting the gift."

"I see. Well." Remus leant in. Tonks shivered as his lips brushed her earlobe when he whispered, "It might benefit you to know that you're dealing with a wizard who had every gift for his friends wrapped, but braved the terrors of Spellotape and did yours himself."

Tonks' cheeks ached as her smile cracked into an ear-to-ear grin. "Did he?" she asked shakily, surrendering all those medals for smoothness to her hammering heart.

"Mm." Straightening up, Remus nodded down at her book in her hand. "Now, what were you so engrossed in that I managed to sneak up behind an Auror?"

Though her heart rate stayed the same, Tonks felt a subtle shift in the cause of the rapid beating with which she was all too familiar. Her throat went dry as she clutched the book at her side, suddenly nervous about what Remus would think of her choice of reading material. Ever since she'd visited Arthur at St. Mungo's that morning and seen that poor bloke, who'd just been bitten by a werewolf, in the bed opposite, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about what those early days had been like for Remus. When she noticed this title in the midst of her browsing, she'd been unable to resist taking a look. But weren't these questions she ought to ask Remus herself? Or were they questions best left unasked? He was such a private man, and seemed to manage his condition so easily. She'd hate to make him feel a curiosity now they were an exclusive couple, after all her trouble to show him otherwise.

"Harry'll really like his present," Tonks said hastily. "Poor kid, these visions -- they're not exactly prophecies, are they? -- are really hard for him to deal with. He seemed right spooked today. It'll help him to learn some new defences."

"I hope so." Remus glanced down at her book. "But your--"

"My present? Merlin, you don't think it'll make Harry feel badly about Quidditch, do you? I'm always putting my foot in it with him. D'you know I actually asked him today if he'd got Seer blood?"

Tonks felt her cheeks prickle warmly at the memory of Harry's green eyes looking at her as if she'd asked him if he were some species of clairvoyant Clabbert, and how little he'd said to her after the fact.

"All my life I heard about The Boy Who Lived..." Her voice was pinched-sounding in her own ears, fingernails digging into her palm as she balled her free hand into fists. "...I'd a special box just for Harry Potter's Chocolate Frog cards, and when I finally meet him, I make a right fool of myself--"

"You're never foolish." Remus lightly pressed his fingertips to her mouth. "Harry will love the Firebolt model. He needs a proper teenager gift, and it will mean a great deal to him to know he's got people who care about him."

Hands relaxing, Tonks kissed his fingers and started to speak, but before she could, Remus said, "Just as it will mean a great deal to me to know what you're reading, so I can wrap another present for you, which I can be assured you'll like."

"Do you really want to know?" Tonks asked, withdrawing the book behind her back, and clasping it tightly in both hands. "What if it's a soppy romance novel?"

Remus smirked, and Tonks knew she hadn't helped herself a bit. She caught her breath as he leant toward her and spoke in her ear."If it's a soppy romance novel, I might assume that you're anxious to finish our shopping because you're in the mood for particular activities."

He brushed warm lips over her neck, where her pulse beat furiously, and Tonks wished to Merlin she'd wandered to the shelf of trashy novels at the back of the shop -- even if they did make her think sex was more funny than sexy, and a series of acrobatic and gymnastic feats even the most adept of witches could never pull off, much less ones who were all left feet and thumbs.

Abruptly, Remus straightened up and said, "But I know it's not a soppy romance novel."

"How? Legilimency?"

"I don't have to use Legilimency to know that particular literary genre is not found in the..." His eyes darted upward, to the garland and ribbon trimmed sign over their heads. "...Magical Creatures section, or that it most frequently comes in small paperback form."

"And how do you know so much about that..." Tonks snorted. "...particular literary genre?"

"Molly," Remus replied steadily. He patted his trouser pocket, jingling a few coins. "Keeps them in her apron and sneaks reads whilst she cooks and cleans."

Tonks blinked, then narrowed her eyes, scrutinising his features for any sign of mischief. His eyes did hold a telltale gleam of amusement, and the smile lines at the corners and around his mouth had deepened -- but that didn't mean he was pulling her leg. If he were telling the truth about Molly reading bodice rippers whilst she did housework, of course he'd find it amusing.

Then again, even though he was Remus Lupin and the epitome of cool, was he quite cool enough not to be the least bit self-conscious while talking about the smutty reading habits of someone who might as well be his mother?

"Well." Tonks returned his level stare. "I reckon that explains the seven kids. I wonder if she and Arthur role--"

Remus cleared his throat, eyes darting downward. "Your book, which does not fit that particular literary genre?"

Grinning in triumph, Tonks handed over the book. "Title grabbed me. It's anonymous."

Satisfaction sank like a leaden weight into the pit of her stomach as Remus' playfully grinning mouth drew into a tight line.

"Hairy Snout, Human Heart." He gave a sarcastic snort of laughter. "Yes, I can see how a rubbish title like that might pique morbid interest."

Tonks glowered at him through her scarlet fringe. "I think it's cute." Jutting her chin, she pushed her hair out of her eyes and secured it once more in the barrettes. "Have you read it, or are you judging the book by itstitle?"

"I believe it's the cover you're not supposed to judge."

"The title's on the cover."

Remus' shopping bag crinkled against her legs as he suddenly lurched forward into her. A witch juggling a red-faced, squalling baby and a number of parcels begged her pardon for bumping into him, and Remus glanced over his shoulder to with a smile and a flick of his wand that reduced the packages and tied them in a neat bundle for her.

Though Tonks wanted to throw her arms around Remus and snog him senseless in the shop to show everyone how proud and lucky she was to be this lovely gentleman's girlfriend, she couldn't let him off the hook that easily.

It was a task worthy of a Triwizard champion to fold her arms across her chest even though he remained standing so close to her that she felt his warm breath on her face, ruffling her fringe. Drawing a deep breath, she tried to ignore his oh-so-kissable mouth as she glanced down at the book in his hand, and then back up to meet his eyes.

"Well?" she asked.

The lines of his face became more pronounced. "I am familiar with it, yes," he said stiffly, then added, "though I would prefer not to be."

The last he pronounced with such a contrasting casualness that it was obvious to Tonks he was deliberately masking a true reaction. Git. Always on the lookout for an opportunity to wind her up. She couldn't believe he hadn't tacked Nymphadora onfor the full effect. In that low, flirty tone that almost made her like the name. A slight disappointment rose that he hadn't used it now, when he was looking so disarmingly boyish and sexy.

Resisting these thoughts that undermined her lifelong crusade against her Christian name, Tonks protested, "Well, I think it's fantastic."

For just a moment Remus' lips hung agape, his eyes rounded, and his face flushed, but then he reassumed that stolid mask and regarded her with a raised eyebrow. "Do you, now?"

"I do."

"Why?"

"It's really well written. Compelling. Funny and melancholy and honest and sad and hopeful..." In spite of knowing that Remus would never be condescending, she couldn't stop herself colouring as she noticed his lips twisting in a smirk. "Don't laugh at me, Professor. I may not be the intellectual, but I do have pretty good taste."

"I'm not laughing!"

Tonks quirked an eyebrow, and Remus looked adorably sheepish.

"All right, I am, but only because it's rather amusing to hear adjectives like compelling paired with titles like Hairy Snout, Human Heart."

"It is compelling." Tonks snatched the book from him. "I feel like I know this bloke..." She broke off with a laugh as sudden realisation dawned about why she was staunchly defending the book against Remus' mockery. "Something about this reminds me a lot of you, actually."

She watched Remus' Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. What in Merlin's name? Remus looked as if he'd just seen his boggart.

But instantly he composed himself and said dryly, "The werewolf thing, probably."

"It's Christmas, don't be a prat," Tonks said, thumbing through the pages for that passage she'd been reading before he joined her.

"I'm not being--"

"Listen, I'll prove it to you."

"Prove that I'm being a prat?"

"Yes." Tonks rolled her eyes. "Prove the book's compelling--" With a side-long glance, she grinned. "--you great prat."

Remus grinned back, but Tonks didn't miss a slight downward twitch at the corners of his mouth, or the way his eyes darted down at the book in her hands. As though he were nervous.

Was he winding her up to cover the fact that she'd made him uncomfortable? Oh, Merlin, why hadn't she thought of it before? Remus might be acting funny because they were discussing a werewolf autobiography in public.

She glanced around the shop, making sure there at least weren't other customers in earshot. They seemed quite absorbed in searching for gifts in aisles across the way or at the cash desk, but Tonks decided to cast a Muffliato just to be safe. Remus smiled again as she tucked her wand back into the inner pocket of her cloak, but held his shoulders stiffly, clearlynot put entirely at ease.

Tonks cleared her throat and read in a low tone:

"Every morning after the full moon, I always felt like an utter wretch when I watched my mother cast Reparo Charms on everything in my bedroom -- which was becoming increasingly difficult to return to order, the more times I transformed and tore the place apart. I remember vividly telling her she could chain me up in the cellar, and she looked at me as if I'd said a dirty word.

"'You're such a good son,' Mother said. 'You never did put me through the Terrible Twos, and most mothers have to live with the Ferocious Fourteens every minute of every day, and I only have to tidy up after you once a month.'

My father shrewdly advised me not to mention this to my future wife when she asks me whose genes are responsible for any Ferocious Fourteens we shall produce."

"You see?" Tonks said, looking up from the book, trying for an I-told-you-so tone, but not quite managing it due to both her laughter and the lump that had formed in her throat. "Melancholy plus funny equal compelling. And his parents just sound so much like yours--Oh, come off it!"

Remus had blanched and recoiled from her.

"Fine!" Tonks clapped the book shut. "It's sentimental and soppy. There, I said it. But d'you have to be all...male and repressed?"

"I--" Remus backed into the end of a bookshelf, and Mr. Blott glared over a customer's shoulder as a couple of large volumes thudded onto their sides.

Tonks reached around Remus to right them. "Can't you admit that you're just a tad sentimental yourself, and that you can see how I might think this sounds like something you'd write? You know -- if you actually talked about your feelings."

At his shocked and horrified expression, Tonks felt her own face mirroring it. And going very hot. The book slipped from her clammy hands, pages rustling as it landed open at the centre. She pressed her palms to her cheeks, and stumbled back from Remus, against another bookshelf -- earning another glower from Mr. Blott behind the counter.

"Oh God, Remus, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that--"

Instantly he'd moved toward her, blue eyes looking kindly down as he caught her wrists and pulled them away from her face.

"No offence taken," he said. "I think taciturn is an apt description for me." He smiled pleasantly.

Tonks returned it, weakly. He might not have been insulted, but he'd definitely avoided the subject of the book. Which, she realised, feeling the proprietor's glare on her, and hearing him clear his throat, was still lying quite untidily on the floor between her and Remus. She bent and picked it up, smoothing out the pages that had got bent in the fall with her fingertips, not trusting herself with a charm under the shopkeeper's leery stare.

"Anyway, compelling's not just my opinion," Tonks resumed the conversation. She was probably pressing her luck, but she'd always been a glutton for punishment. She opened the book to the flyleaf and pointed at the blurb. "Newt Scamander calls it 'a heartrending account of one wizard's battle with lycanthropy'."

"Magical Creatures experts aren't known for their literary knowledge."

Tonks glared. "D'you know what? I'm going to buy it."

"Buy it?" Remus looked so mystified that Tonks couldn't bring herself to laugh outright at him. But she couldn't resist getting her own back at him after all the winding up he'd done.

"So I can finish reading it. Get into your psyche." Tonks grabbed the end of his scarf and tugged at it. "Because I know you've got a broody, sentimental side."

Remus ducked his head, looking down at his shuffling feet as his fringe fell over his forehead. "You shouldn't have to read an anonymous werewolf's biography to get into my psyche."

"I'm teasing." Tonks tugged the scarf again, then stepped closer to him, raising her face to his down-turned one, and pressed a quick kiss to his chin. His hand settled on her waist as she went on. "I want to read it. It's been a long time since I found a book I liked so much." She turned to go and pay for the book, glancing back over her shoulder at Remus. "Besides, don't you think he'd appreciate the royalties?"

"I'm sure he would," said Remus quietly, and Tonks stumbled over her own feet at the tightness of his tone. It wasn't like him at all to be self-conscious about things pertaining to the state of werewolves.

"Remus..." She wheeled back to him. "What's wrong? What'veve I--?"

He caught her shoulder and steered her back toward the cash desk. "Do you really think I'm sentimental?"

Tonks was perfectly aware of his subject-changing tactic, but couldn't stop an ear-to-ear grin as the happy feeling welled up again. "Mine are the only presents you did battle with Spellotape for, aren't they?"

She presented the book to Mr. Blott, who looked asked slightly less harassed at the thought of her purchasing the book she'd manhandled. He did frown in perplexity when he saw what the book was, but sounded almost cordial when he asked if she'd like it gift-wrapped.

"What d'you think, Remus?" Tonks asked. "Should I wrap my present from me to me?"

"You could always have the card printed, From Father Christmas."

Tonks laughed, but her mirth died at Mr. Blott's decidedly not amused sniff, and his eyes darting over her shoulder to the wall clock, which indicated it was nearly closing time.

"Just a bag'll do, thanks," Tonks said quietly, and reached into her cloak for her moneybag.

Mr. Blott counted the coins she gave him, then turned to put them in the cash register. As a quill sprang from the top of the machine and wrote out the receipt on a long, narrow sheet of parchment, he commented, "It is a well written book."

"Told you so!" Tonks grinned smugly over her shoulder at Remus, who nodded once in concession -- though it was a bit undermined by his ever-so-slight eyeroll.

"It's a strange selection," Mr. Blott went on heavily, bursting Tonks' bubble. "Though it would have been stranger had you been purchasing this as a gift." He handed Tonks her receipt and her change. "I suppose those with an interest in Magical Creatures..."

A few Knuts clinked on the wood floor as Tonks, struck with a sudden idea, missed the opening of her purse

"Actually, I can make a gift of this."

The coins Remus had crouched to pick up jangled on the floor again, and Mr. Blott, looking distinctively owlish, blinked rapidly.

"I'd like a second for myself," Tonks said. "D'you know if you've another copy?"

Eyes narrowed in an expression something like she'd insulted him, the shopkeeper flicked his wand. "Accio Hairy Snout, Human Heart."

"A gift?" Leaving his shopping back on the floor, coat draped over it, Remus stood and handed Tonks the change she'd dropped. "For whom? Hagrid?"

"I'd love that one gift-wrapped, thanks," said Tonks. She waited until Mr. Blott retreated to the back room, then turned to Remus. "For that bloke I told you about. In the Dai Llewellen ward."

Remus stared at her. "You want to give a werewolf's autobiography to the man who was bitten by a werewolf?"

Oh. dear. Merlin.

Remus hadn't been winding her up.

She'd upset him.

He'd been joking to get her off of this book thing, and she'd kept pushing it in his face.

Tonks' cheeks had never been burned by hotter flames of mortification, and yet fiery indignation flared within her.

"I thought it might be helpful." She hissed through her teeth, "I'll thank you to remember that I'm the most hopelessly socially awkward witch in Britain, and bloody tell me when I'm making a gigantic fool of myself--"

Remus' hands gripped her shoulders, pulling Tonks against him as he kissed her forehead. "You have done nothing of the sort," he said hoarsely. Tonks shivered as his long fingers slid up the curve of her neck to cup her face. His eyes were intense as they held hers. "You're the most thoughtful witch in Britain, and I'd be happy to deliver the book to St. Mungo's and tell the chap so myself." He leant in and kissed her again. "I'm sorry I made you think you'd offended me. It's not the case at all, I assure you."

Though his affection and the fervour of his words reassured Tonks, she felt dazed. "Then why are you acting so funny about this book?"

His eyes darted away. "I--"

"Here you are, Miss."

They turned just as Mr. Blott emerged from the back room, carrying the wrapped book. He looked reprovingly over his spectacles at them, and Tonks slipped from Remus' arms to make her purchase.

When Tonks turned back to Remus, she found him bundled up for the outdoors: scarf knotted, coat buttoned, gloves on. "Is that all our shopping done, then?"

Tonks nodded, and Remus picked up his shopping bag from the floor, then moved in front of her to get the door. "What do you say to hot chocolate at the Leaky?"

"Damn."

Remus paused with his hand on the door handle to give her a quizzical look.

"If I'd been reading a soppy romance," Tonks said, grinning, "you'd be asking for a nightcap at mine. I just had to pick a werewolf book. Now I've got to settle for innocent hot chocolate in public."

Remus chuckled and opened the door. The gust of frigid air that barraged them made Tonks grab his arm with both hands and press herself tight against his side.

"Hot chocolate at the Leaky's a fantastic idea," she said, shivering.

"Though if we'd simply Apparated to yours, we wouldn't need the cocoa."

Chattering teeth prevented further conversation as they made their way down the crowded pavement as briskly as they could. In nicer weather, Tonks -- and Remus, too, she knew -- would have tolerated the cold and taken her time looking at the Christmas displays in the shop windows. Or, were it clear, she would have been keen to look at the stars -- "Three Centaurs In Forests Far" playing in Flourish and Blotts had put her in mind of them. But tonight's sky was shrouded in fog, the last waning rays of the setting sun blocked by the low, winter clouds. No, drinking a hot chocolate at the Leaky with Remus really was the thing to do.

As Tonks trotted to keep up with his longer stride, the books in her shopping bag thumped against her side, reminding her of the interrupted conversation in the bookshop.

What explanation had Remus been about to give for his peculiar behaviour?

To be continued...