To everyone who has been reading: thank you so much, and all of my apologies that this took so terribly long! Also, this chapter contains intense romance. Just thought you all should have a heads up! :)
A/N: Perhaps this is an unpopular opinion, but the Remus Lupin in my head is very different from the movie version (if you've ever seen burdge-bug's drawings of him and Tonks on devientart, you'll know what I mean). I guess I imagine him looking younger, in a way. :| Okay. That was all but pointless, but anyways, reader! Onwards and enjoy! :)
Chapter Seven
"The last night." Tonks trailed one weary hand across the dusty mirror, her gaze lingering on its ornate frame. Come morning, the Order would be gone for good—and maybe it was for the better. Absent-minded, she found one hand tangled in her hair, lifting a few of the dark strands. It seemed only appropriate to lose the pink for a while, a gesture of respect for her dead cousin.
"It's for the best," Remus said, as though reading her mind. Tonks forced a smile. Lately, things had been confusing at best: Sirius's tragic death, rushing to abandon Grimmauld Place, the stirrings of something that felt a lot like attraction for a man she had always considered a friend. Remus was older, yes, but Tonks still thought him handsome. In a shaggy sort of way, but handsome none the less.
She supposed that she should feel shame for thinking that—for all of her actions regarding Remus. For kissing him, for wanting him. And she did. She felt dark tendrils of hot shame creep up every now and then, flushing her cheeks, bringing a silent apology to Sirius to her lips—and yet Tonks could not shake the feeling that maybe this is what Sirius would have wanted: for the Order members, his best friends and family, to rebuild their lives. A war was coming. Love would be scarce soon.
"You're right." She nodded, glanced round the bedroom. It was half-empty. Dusty. Cobwebs clung to the ceilings, and she saw a flash of blue that might have been a stray Cornish Pixie. "Still—we'll never come back here, will we?"
Remus was beside her, then, and he spoke softly. "No."
"I came here once, when I was a kid. Don't really remember it, though." She fought back sudden tears (she wouldn't cry, she wouldn't break down...) "Sirius had a rough childhood, you know?"
"I do."
Tonks had been struck recently by the terrible thought that Sirius had hardly ever had a chance to be truly happy. At Hogwarts, maybe, and perhaps here for a while, living with the Order. But beyond that...
"Sirius died knowing that the Order would put a good fight. He died having a family again, Tonks." Remus spoke very close to her ear. Tonks nodded, whispered that she knew. They would all move on, eventually. Not completely, of course, but mostly.
"The last night." The last night in her cousin's home, the most ancient and noble house of Black. "But it's not really the end, is it? It's only the start—this is the beginning of the end for the wizarding world, and most people don't even know it."
"They will." Remus sounded quite grave. "This war will change lives."
It will end lives. The thought flashed unbidden across Tonks's mind, but she did not dwell on it. They had each other for now, had the rest of the Order. Dumbledore and Kingsley and Moody and Molly and Arthur, and a dozen others who would fight with all they had, fight until the end.
There was a brief silence, and then Remus spoke.
"About the mistletoe—" He looked sideways at her. "And don't think that I didn't like it, because I did, but—"
"Oh, shut up, Remus," She said, and kissed him. Looking back, this might have been a mistake, and maybe it was, but Tonks could not think of that. She could only think about Remus and the fact that he was kissing her back, and the feeling of his mouth against hers.
She wound her fingers first in the fabric of his jacket, and then in his shaggy hair, and everything felt alright again.
"Your hair," Remus murmured against her lips. His hand was at the back of her head, and without looking she knew that a vicious pink was spreading across her hair, changing almost against her will. Not quite against her will, though, because his lips were at her throat and she felt a pleasure close to pain but shot through with blinding happiness.
"Remus..."
The room seemed to spin around them—they might have kissed for seconds or days or years. Tonks was only half-aware of moving but she must have because she was suddenly her back was pressed to the bedroom wall. A lamp with a dusty shade illuminated the room, the walls, the cobwebs swaying on the ceiling.
She seized his worn jacket's lapels, pulling him closer to her, kissing him with such fervor, and she thought briefly that she had never kissed anyone like this before. It meant something, but she wasn't sure what.
Several minutes passed (was it minutes? Tonks couldn't tell) and somehow they wound up on the bed. It was an old bed, and retained a certain musty odor. Black flowers crept across the thin bedspread. Tonks was on her back and Remus's lips were still on her own, and then she was removing her shirt in a very swift manner.
For a foolish moment her mind wandered to the bra that she was wearing (a fetching shade of neon green) and she realized how very girlish that was, thinking about undergarments while snogging. She did not ponder the subject at length, though, because she was kissing Remus shirtless and everything was very blissful. It was easy to forget, she thought, at a time like this.
He was warm on top of her and Tonks liked this. Things seemed to move in fast-motion and then Remus was taking off his shirt and his hands were over her own and she could see his scars, all of his scars and he knew that she had seen them before and was not afraid.
"Tonks," He murmured into her neck. "Oh, Tonks."
Her hands were on his back and then his stomach and then his chest. Tonks could not deny that this was the fastest that she had ever moved with any wizard but it felt so right. Her wand was beside her on the bed and her hands moved down, towards his belt buckle. Tonks very nearly fumbled but though she might be clumsy her hands were agile, and she did not. Her hands lingered for a moment on the tarnished buckle and then her eyes met his. In a moment, they both froze.
What are we doing?
Tonks dropped her hands; Remus fell upon the bed beside her. They were both breathing quickly and suddenly she felt like crying.
A long moment of silence passed between them and, not for the first time, Tonks was reminded painfully of the phrase 'in the heat of the moment'.
"Remus—"
"Tonks—"
"—don't." She said, and sighed quietly. They were both shirtless. She noticed that Remus did not ogle her and felt a small flash of...respect, was it? Maybe.
"The last night." More silence. Tears tracked their way down her cheeks and she felt stupid for crying but there was no way to stop it. Tonks felt warm arms slide around her and she curled into them, shivering very slightly. The room seemed dimmer now. She lay very still and thought that she could hear Remus's heartbeat. It was very quick.
As she closed her eyes, Tonks heard him whisper "I'm sorry," into her hair.
Don't be, she thought, and turned to face him, pressing her cheek into his shoulder. By morning, the tears would be dry on her face. The last night at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. A war was on the horizon. For tonight, at least, they had each other.
A/N: So...what did you think of it? Loved it? Hated it? Voice your opinion, dear readers! :)