And then she'd hit the streets, regularly incantating the Impervius spell and apparating around the very end of the Diagon Alley. Just like that day, she apparated on Grimmauld Place and entered the house that had a rusty number '12' on its facade. As it was known to the members, the house was used as the Order of Phoenix headquarters.
"Mornin', Tonks!" - Ron waved passing by, unwillingly lifting his right hand in gesture of greeting. It was summer, which explained why the house was all of a sudden filled with people. Even Minerva was here, and currently - she was the biggest support when it came to Hogwarts part of magical world. Dumbledore's death shook them all, some more - some less. But everyone felt incredible grief - almost everyone went to Hogwarts while he was the headmaster and they knew him as the best professor and headmaster ever. He was a great man, not only for his breakthroughs in Transfiguration, but for his acts - like many laws in the muggle-wizard relations part, and mistreating of goblins.
"Ron, 'ey. Where's everyone else?"
"In the kitchen. Maybe you shouldn't be here, mom is experiencing her phase in which she expects us all to clean up the house. Like You-Know-Who cares about that, so it'll keep us safe."
She weakly smiled in response, realizing just how immature he is. Everyone felt like it was miles away, the final battle. But they couldn't avoid it.
Trying not to knock anything down, Tonks found her way to the kitchen. She was aware of her insufferable clumsyness, and she even stopped trying not to be, at least in the last few days. Voldemort, Lupin, Bill and Fleur's wedding, bunch of plans - and they even had to get Harry out of Privet Drive.
"Tonks! It's great you came, come here, Alastor needs you!" - Molly noticed her as soon as she stepped on the shreaking floorboard with her boot, and swiftly waving her hand, invited her to come closer. At the table were already Arthur, professor McGonagall (she still addressed her like that, deformation from Tonks' school days), Kingsley, Moody, and the person she'd been wanting to see the most - Remus.
She sat next to Kingsley, avoiding Remus' stare. Her stomach was burning up, that annoying little feeling in the lower of her abdomen that kept blabbering about how stupid she was and kept kicking her where it hurt the most. Feelings of rejection, confusion, as well. Every moment without Remus seemed like a terrible waste of time because she knew that they only had so little. He, on the other hand, had his internal dialogues that drove her mad.
"We have to transfer Harry in a week. School year finished three days ago and we don't have much time left. We've sent the false information in the Ministry, Hestia and Dedalus are ready for Dudleys' transport and we can carry out the rest of the plan this weekend."
"OK, yeah. I guess you have enough Polyjuice Potion?"
"As usual."
She smiled to Moody, her tutor, and then started picking on a hole in the wooden table that they all sat by, completely shutting herself out of the conversation. She knew that plan very, very well, every letter and every wrong punctuation. In the nights that bothered her with insomnia, she'd repeat it in her head - assuring herself that it completely lacked any loopholes or mistakes. One Harry and one guardian - and the real Harry would travel with Hagrid. There weren't many significant holes, defence systems were pretty good and the wholesome plan was developed as much as it needed to be. In the end, she had trust in Moody. She had trust in Moody, Dumbledore and Kingsley. The taught her everything she knew, whether it was business - or private, in Kingsley's case.
"Hey, Remus?" - she called out, whispering, slightly raising her voice, and not even bothering to raise her head. Moody and Kingsley stopped talking, she could feel their gazes on her head. Remus coughed a little, like he used to do it, and left her enough room to finish the question.
"Could we step out for a moment?"
"I'm not so sure... We are discussing the plan, maybe we should be here..." - she knew that tone, she knew how he used to find excuses in others. Always, without a mistake.
"Don't worry, Lupin, you shouldn't. Now, get out of here."
Creaking of the parquet while they stood up, and the footsteps that meant he rushed to the kitchen door. She hurried up, trying to catch up with his step, accidentally knocking down the glass from the table and upsetting Crookshanks, who sprung up a few feet in the air upon hearing the glass break. She ignored all the rattle and ran for the door, seeing Remus rush by the corner.
"Did you ever try waiting! Would you lose your crown that way?"
She couldn't hear the footsteps anymore, finally - she reached him.
"What is it, Dora?"
"Are you serious?"
He sighed and looked her straight into the eye. He had that kind of a gaze that could penetrate into her, read everything she wanted to say and then humilliate her, reject her. All that in just a few seconds, without a word spoken out loud.
"What do you want from me? To marry you? Get you pregnant, perhaps? I'm too old for this, you're too young, we don't have enough time and I don't want to waste this little we have left. I don't want to waste your time, when there's still hope for you."
She grabbed his hand when he spoke out the last word, with no intention of letting go. He stared in horror, and she stared back envisioning the three apparition D's.
Her flat all of a sudden reeked of moisture and fresh parchment, it reeked of the cheapest cologne and butter beer. She placed her right hand on his chest, pleading him with her gaze to keep quiet, just this once, not to ask her what she expects out of him - just this once, she wanted him to have full trust in her. And it seemed like he wanted to listen to her. He lightly blinked, giving her the permission she needed to continue.
Her left hand still had his in grip, and she didn't want to unlock her muscles so she'd lost him from her grip - this time, maybe forever. It was something similar to living on borrowed time - you could never know when was the last time you'd see someone. She didn't want to regret not spending time with Remus. She was selfish enough, brave enough and careless enough to feel that way.
She closed her eyes once again, apparating them to her bedroom. He let out a sigh, out of uncomfort, but he didn't say a thing. And she was grateful for that.
She was also grateful for allowing her to take his raggedy robes off, shirt with a few patches, probably older than Tonks, and lay him down on the bed, swiftly taking off her own robe and dress. He still kept quiet. And thank God for that.
She closed her eyes and allowed herself to taste his coarse and scarred lips with her own. She couldn't imagine it was possible to be so marked and scarred like he was. It was the first time she had seen his naked chest, sligh muscles, and deep scars on every centimeter of his torso skin. And she didn't find it repulsing. No... It was primal, even more attractive.
And then she stopped, because she couldn't keep it slow anymore. She couldn't restrain herself for a minute longer because she felt such pain that was completely unbearable, it hurt more than any wound she ever had. Her head, stomach, legs and arms - everything ached in want to simply squeeze him close and get rid of that feeling that would run through her body every time she saw him. She would shut it up with others, but it was no use - every time she could only think about Remus.
She freed them out of the little clothes that they had, finally feeling his hands on the lower part of her back, holding her close, slowly caressing her back up and down with their warm touch. Outside, the rain was pouring, hitting her roof window covered with fog, silencing her exhalations, sighs, when she finally, after the years of suffer that bothered her more than fear of death, climbed up on top of him and gave over to what she wanted from the first moment she'd set her eyes on him. Sigh, that was more an act of relief and final satisfaction, soon enough turned to something that more resembled to an animal groan.
There was something about having sex with werewolves, definitely. The way his moves had influence over her, look in his eyes when he finally adjusted to the situation, control that he took over from her and lustful lips filled with unimaginable thirst. She used every muscle she had, twisted and turned, and she was pretty sure they had broken a few boards on her bed. And finally, when she felt he'd stopped pushing, how his leg muscles started relaxing - just for a moment before he would push one last time, she felt his hand on the thigh of her right leg that was wrapped around his slippery body, and let out a final expiration not being able to delay the inevitable. Her close was followed by his, in which he firmly bit her neck and, breaking through paper skin with his sharp teeth, lured out a few drops of blood. And then.. there was peace.
"Tonks?"
"Yeah?"
She rolled over, on her hip, not bothering to cover herself up with the sheet. What for? It was too hot, anyways.
"You're insane."
"I know... Will you marry me, then?"