A/N: So this is an idea I've always wanted to write about. Set probably around the middle of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Still rather new at writing, so I appreciate any feedback, even flames. Although, please keep in mind, I like my flames nice and toasty, not a raging inferno.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of this… Not Remus, Tonks, or anything else belonging solely to J.K.R.

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He wasn't sure how Tonks had convinced him to come here with her. Diagon Alley was bustling with life, even despite the dark times that had fallen upon the wizarding world. Although, no one here would admit to that anything was wrong. The Daily Prophet had led a vicious campaign against Dumbledore, Harry, and anyone else who claimed that Voldemort had returned. However, the disappearances had already begun again and each day it felt like regulations were becoming tighter and tighter against him.

The newest of these regulations was the reason for his willing isolation the past few weeks. The crowd gave them a wide berth as they slowly made their way to one of the many bookshops in Diagon Alley. Eyes bore into him and he could just barely hear the whispers that accompanied them on their trip. He knew it wasn't Tonk's bubblegum pink hair that they were discussing. "This was a bad idea Tonks," he murmured, keeping his eyes on the street before him.

She elbowed him sharply, saying "You were going stir crazy in that house, and you know it. You need new books and Sirius needs anything that doesn't involve firewhiskey."

"Well that's why I should get back to him. I don't want Sirius drinking himself into a stupor again and trying to feed Kreacher to Buckbeak."

She snorted with laughter at the memory. It may have been funny to her, but pulling a heavily intoxicated Sirius away without offending a very hungry hippogriff had been a challenge he would not want to repeat. "You are not going home. Besides, the badge isn't that noticeable," she said with a glance at the small white half-moon that had been charmed to all his clothes.

"It's about as noticeable as the Plague," he muttered dryly as yet another parent pulled their child into the nearest shop to get away from the approaching pair.

He had been used to strict regulations against werewolves, but now the Ministry had taken the next step against him and many other "unfavorable races". Everywhere he went, even in his own home, he had to be marked as a werewolf. A ministry official had appeared at his flat three weeks ago with an order to charm the badge to appear on anything he wore. To make it worse, the marks could only be removed by Umbridge herself. Since then, he had played it safe and was living at Grimmauld Place. By chance, he had seen Hagrid's red circle that marked him as a half giant when the groundskeeper had come to make his report. Even freed house elves had to wear a tiny green triangle. Although, going by his brief encounters with Dobby, the tiny elf was probably the only one happy about the new accessory. He had the feeling that Dumbledore expected Muggle-borns to be marked next. If he had any say, it would be the Death Eaters wearing these, not him or his friends. What worried him more were the regulations that the Ministry would decide to pass next. He didn't know much about Muggle history, but he remembered that this was eerily similar to how the persecution of Jewish Muggles and wizards had started during World War II.

Tonks pulled him out of his somber thoughts as they reached his favorite bookshop. The sign "Farlington's Used and Antique Books" hung over the side of the tiny shop. Stuck between two abandoned buildings, it was very much off the beaten track. The window display showed off the impressive display of its less worn books. However, it was the beaten-up, worn out, musty ones that he loved the best.

They entered the shop to be greeted by the familiar sight of Mr. Farlington himself. The wizened old man was reading from a particularly ancient looking volume on astrology when they approached. He looked up, startled for a moment. Remus smiled, about to greet the man when Mr. Farlington's eyes fell to the half-moon badge.

"Get out," he said softly, his eyes wide with fear.

Remus's smile disappeared instantly. "Mr. Farlington, I've been coming here since I was a child."

The older man slammed the book shut, pointed a wrinkled finger at him. "I said get out! I don't serve your kind here. If you don't leave immediately, I'm calling the Aurors," he shouted.

He grabbed Tonks by the arm, ready to pull her out of the shop if he had to. "Let's go," he murmured quietly, turning to leave.

She yanked her arm out of his grasp. "No, Remus! This isn't right and you know it." She had one hand on her wand, and Remus had the sinking suspicion she was going to show Mr. Farlington a thing or two about jinxes.

He put a hand on her shoulder, holding her gaze. "Tonks. We need to leave now." He said it as calmly as he could, but she probably could still see the fear coursing through him. For a long moment it looked like she would use her wand on him. She let out a frustrated sigh, allowing him to lead her out, with the old shopkeeper shouting abuses behind them.

Once outside, her anger returned fully as she shoved him away from her. "Why the hell don't you do something?" She shouted angrily, throwing her hands up in frustration. He could tell though that she was more upset with the situation than she was with him. "Everyone's been treating you like some type of rabid animal! If they knew anything about werewolves-"

"Tonks. You know better than anyone why I, or you, can't do anything about this," he said quietly. By the look that crossed Tonk's face, he immediately regretted bringing the incident up.

Two weeks prior, while Tonks was on duty, a report had come in of a young, possibly rouge, werewolf acting suspicious in a local neighborhood. When a man had tried to confront him, the boy had pulled out a wand. Once the Aurors arrived, things only became worse. The official report had said that the werewolf had been about to cast the Killing Curse when he was killed. But Tonks knew differently. She had seen just how scared that boy had been and when the Auror's killing curse had hit him, he had been lowering his wand. It was no secret that Aurors were looking for any reason to imprison or kill a werewolf. As it was, she was at constant risk of losing her job just for associating with Remus.

Tonks rubbed a hand over her eyes quickly at the memory of that boy's body lying in the street. "It just isn't fair Remus," she whispered, a few stray tears running down her face. It always hurt to see Tonks, who was always so strong, upset because of him. The stress of the past few weeks had finally taken its toll on the both of them.

Hesitantly, well aware his actions were about to step outside the circle of friendship that they had so carefully constructed these past few months, Remus pulled her into an embrace. "I know," he murmured.

They just stood there, and for a moment, it seemed like they were the only two people in the world.