The Werewolf Who Stole Christmas

New Year's Eve had never been one of Tonks' favourite celebrations - normally it meant being unable to turn down an invite to some frightfully boring party with her parents and being introduced to the sons of friends her mother thought might make a suitable boyfriend. Last year's do had been a particularly galling one, full of old, distant relatives of her father's, including a plumber called Derek who'd had too much to drink and repeatedly pinched her bottom, getting a string of not-especially lady-like expletives and a turnip for a nose in return.

But this year was different. She'd been able to turn down her mother's invite because she had another much more pleasing prospect on the cards. Sirius had been persuaded - although to be honest, it hadn't been a tricky task - to throw a party, and everyone had risen to the occasion, Molly agreeing to see to the food, the twins supplying some décor that hopefully wouldn't injure anyone, and Sirius raiding his mother's wine cellar to make sure the party went with a swing.

Which was all very nice, but hardly the cause for the flutter in her chest when she wondered what she should wear. Tonks hadn't seen much of Remus since Christmas Day - either he had been on duty for the Order or she had, and so they'd passed in the corridors of Grimmauld and sat at the same heaving dining table on a couple of occasions, but that had been it. They hadn't had a chance to be alone.... She fingered the pendant nestling on the neck of her jumper. She hadn't been able to bear to take it off, although she had tried changing it into all the different stones she could think of. It really was a spectacularly thoughtful and generous gift, especially given that she knew he wasn't exactly rolling in galleons.

Her heart gave a, by now rather familiar, flutter.

It did the same thing whenever someone mentioned him, or whenever she thought of him, which she had quite a lot recently, even though she'd tried desperately not to over-react, tried to convince herself that it was, of course, just a kiss.

Tried, and failed, of course. Quite miserably.

The kiss he had given her under the mistletoe had lingered far longer than his lips had on hers - in fact, she'd thought of very little else all week. She blamed a lack of proper distractions. She'd had no real work to do for either the Ministry or the Order, and her offers to help Molly with the party food had been met with very polite but firm refusal. It was think about Remus kissing her or go back to her flat and clean the oven, and tempting as de-greasing spells had been, thinking about kissing Remus had won out in the end.

Questions had been swimming through her mind all week, in an endless swirl like paint through water. They'd started out together, isolated, and then had dispersed into every thought she had. Was it just a friendly kiss? A seasonal gesture?

Until Christmas Day, she'd never had any real indication that he liked her in that way - but then, she wasn't really sure what she was supposed to be looking for. All the other men she'd been out with had been a far brasher, more direct sort - the kind to grab a girl and snog her senseless and then ask questions, and she wasn't entirely sure that that was what Remus would do even if he did like her.

But at midnight, he'd have to kiss someone, and he was a far more appealing prospect than Derek the plumber and his roaming hands.

She stared at herself in the mirror. Nothing she did seemed right today. Every colour she tried to wear seemed to make her look pasty or sallow or something else that she didn't particularly want to look on today of all days. She tried deep purple, waist-length hair, which was normally one of her favourites. She frowned at herself in the mirror, and then tried green. Nope, she didn't like that either.

Eventually she settled on pink hair to match the socks she was wearing. It seemed as good a reason as anything else. She considered changing into something more obviously party-ish, but she didn't want to seem as if she was making too much effort. She pulled on the pointy-toed and completely impractical boots she'd brought herself before Christmas, changed her pendant to Tiger's Eye, and straightened her black V neck jumper, before taking a deep breath and going downstairs.

Everyone was already assembled in the basement, where the table was heaving with sandwiches with every filling, crisps, cakes and quiches, and streamers hung from the ceiling, moving slightly in the draught and emitting the odd red spark. Sirius had Conjured a countdown to midnight on one wall, and golden dancing seconds ticked away one by one as she watched. Someone had found an old radio in one of the bedrooms, and with a little magical help it had been persuaded to pump out a radio station that seemed very keen on The Weird Sisters, and Tonks, at least, was not complaining.

Molly was fussing over the sandwiches, wondering if she should make some more, even though she'd clearly made enough to feed a moderately-sized army, and the twins were eying their decorations nervously. Harry and Ron were sitting in one corner with a plate of sausage rolls between them, and Ginny was tormenting Crookshanks with one of the streamers.

She scanned the room for Remus and met his eyes immediately. He smiled at her, but before she had a chance to go over and talk to him, Hermione cornered her with a question about whether or not she regretted taking NEWT-level Potions. Apparently Hermione was caught in indecision about whether she should take something that might be useful, or something she'd enjoy and was good at. Tonks attempted to give Hermione her full attention, but her eyes kept darting in Remus' direction. He was with Sirius, who was waving his arms, his face dancing in delighted animation at whatever tale he was telling, while Remus regarded him with an expression that was half-amusement and half-disgust, as if he was trying his best not to laugh at a dirty joke.

Tonks told Hermione she'd probably be better off talking to Professor McGonagall about it, and Hermione seemed pleased by the suggestion and bounced away to swipe the last sausage roll. Tonks took a deep breath, and went over to join Sirius and Remus.

"Tonks!" Sirius said, clapping her on the back so hard she stumbled forward.

"Wotcher," she said as she regained her balance, trying not to blush.

She was determined to at least try and do a passable impression of being a normal human being this evening. "Would you like a drink?" Remus said, and she nodded.

"Wine, please," she said, and he smiled and turned towards the table.

"Sirius was just telling me a rather appalling story about some poor girl named Maria," he shot over his shoulder as he filled a glass. Tonks sniggered at the horrified look on Sirius's face. Evidently it was not a story he'd intended to share.

Remus turned back towards them, offering her the large, half-full wine glass.

"Thanks," she said as she took it from him. "Don't let me interrupt."

"Another time, perhaps," Sirius said, shooting his friend a reproachful look.

"Really, Sirius," Tonks said. "I'm not that easily shocked."

"I am," Remus said. "I was rather glad he'd stopped."

She chuckled, took a sip of her wine and then coughed. It was a bit like drinking acid and made her top lip numb instantly. It left a pungent aftertaste that reminded her of celery. "That's very..." she searched for the right word, and as the seconds passed and Remus and Sirius stared at her expectantly, it occurred to her that there might not be a word for what the wine was. "Different," she said eventually.

"It gets better after the first glass," Sirius assured her. "I think, possibly, because the first one kills the taste buds."

They chatted for a few minutes about Mrs Black's peculiar taste for Eastern European goblin wine until Remus offered to trade her glass for a Butterbeer, and she gratefully accepted.

"You know what this party needs?" Sirius said. Remus held up his hand to halt Sirius mid-proposal.

"Whatever you're about to suggest," he said, "please don't."

"Why not? I could have a brilliant idea."

"I've been to your parties before," Remus said. "Any sentence you start with 'you know what this party needs?' ends in hospitalisation, nudity, humiliation or a fist-fight. Often, all four."

"I was just going to suggest a spot of dancing," Sirius said, his face studiedly innocent.

"So just the humiliation and hospitalisation, then."

Sirius rolled his eyes at Remus, and then held his hand out to her. "Tonks?"

"You know I don't dance. Not unless I'm really drunk."

"Moony?"

"I think I'll sit this one out."

"Suit yourselves."

Sirius offered them both a snort of derision, muttering something about wallflowers and party-poopers, and then crossed the floor to drag Molly into an open space and spin her dramatically into his arms. Tonks leant towards Remus conspiratorially. "How much has he had to drink?"

"Not enough, apparently," Remus said, his eyes widening as he watched Sirius dip Molly so close to the floor that her hair brushed the stone. "I asked him the same thing just before you came in. It was that that inspired him to tell me about Maria. Thank you for rescuing me before he got to any of the really sordid details, by the way."

Tonks smiled at him and sipped her Butterbeer, and watched Sirius spin Molly around in front of them. Molly had stopped telling him to unhand her and seemed to be enjoying herself, and at least she'd stopped fretting about the sandwiches. "So who was this Maria?" she said, her curiosity about her cousin's antics getting the better of her.

"I'm not sure he would thank me for telling you," Remus said, raising one eyebrow at her.

"I can keep a secret," she said. He looked down at her for a moment, seemingly torn, the barest trace of a smile playing on the corners of his mouth.

"Suffice to say there was alcohol and impropriety involved," he said eventually, tilting his chin down and fixing his eyes on hers. "And vomiting, at a rather inopportune moment."

Tonks covered her mouth with her hand and sniggered into it. "I daresay you can imagine why I wasn't overly keen on hearing what happened next. Knowing him he probably just - Sirius," Remus said, his eyes snapping up just in time to catch her cousin approaching. "Worn Molly out already, I see."

Sirius reached behind them to grab his brimming wine glass and took a large swig before turning to Tonks and flashing her a broad grin. "Are you drunk enough to dance with me yet?"

"No."

"Drink up, then."

Tonks obligingly lifted her bottle to her lips and took a sip as Sirius jigged away towards a rather frightened-looking Hermione. Fred and George joined them on the makeshift dancefloor, launching immediately into a disco routine that would probably result in the aforementioned hospitalisation when one of them lost an eye, and Molly, having re-caught her breath, insisted that Ron and Harry get up and dance too. Tonks watched them move awkwardly from foot to foot for a few minutes, trying desperately not to laugh. Ginny didn't even attempt to hold in her chortle, until, that is, Molly pulled her to her feet and instructed her to show them how it was done.

It slowly dawned on Tonks that she and Remus were the only people not dancing. She took a large swig of Butterbeer and smiled at him nervously. He raised one eyebrow at her and offered her a lopsided smile, making her heart drop in her chest, bounce off her stomach and ricochet back up into her throat. "Are you drunk enough to dance with me yet?" he said. She swallowed, and he held out his hand. She set her bottle down on the table and eyed his hand.

"I think I might be," she said, taking it. She met his eye. "I apologise."

"What for?"

"For whatever happens next."

Remus laughed hard as he led her towards where the others were dancing, his fingers loosely clasped around hers. He turned to face her. "So what'll it be?" he said, grinning. "Waltz? Tango? Foxtrot?" He eyed the twins with amusement. "Limb-endangering disco routine?"

"I wasn't joking when I said I don't dance," she said. "I move around a bit and then fall over. That's it. You'd better just try and keep me upright."

"Well that doesn't sound like too tall an order," he said, his grey eyes glinting slightly in amusement as he gazed down at her.

He gingerly placed his other hand on her shoulder, and looked down at his waist and nodded at it to indicate that she should hold on. She obliged, willing herself to stay on her feet and not to get too distracted by the tingling sensations that having hands on shoulders and waists were causing. She scanned the floor for obvious hazards. There were a couple of Butterbeer corks, Crookshanks, and the constant worry of uneven flooring, and of course, other people. She just hoped she wouldn't make too big a fool of herself.

"Ready?" he said, and she nodded. He tightened his grip on her hand a little, and then they both stepped forward, their shins colliding. Tonks winced in pain and embarrassment. "Would you rather lead?" Remus said, smiling good-naturedly at her.

She shook her head and let out a rather nervous giggle as she muttered an apology. Remus raised a questioning eyebrow at her to determine if she was ready to try again, and she nodded, biting her lip in concentration. He stepped forward, she stepped backwards, and then she was so busy congratulating herself on taking one dance step without toppling over that she completely forgot to move the other leg and his crashed into it. They tried again, this time managing two whole steps before she trod on his toes. She took a stumbling step backwards, and he righted her before they attempted another, which passed without incident.

Before long they found a rhythm and speed that seemed to suit them, taking one rather ungainly step at a time and then pausing while she regained her balance. It wasn't entirely convincing as dancing, she thought, more like two people staggering around a bit, clutching onto each other and trying to stay upright. But she didn't mind, and he didn't seem to mind either, even when she stepped on his toes, which she did every time they tried to turn round or avoid crashing into someone, or kicked him, which she did when she wasn't concentrating on what her feet were supposed to be doing because she was too busy staring into his eyes and thinking about kissing him.

She liked being close to him, having a chance to experience the little details that had previously eluded her; feeling his jumper beneath her fingers, the way it shifted across the shirt he was wearing underneath as he moved. She liked the way he smelt, all clean and crisp like early mornings in springtime, and the way his fingers brushed hers as he changed his grip on her hand.

Most of all she liked the fact that he didn't seem to mind that she couldn't dance, that he seemed to enjoy their own kind of not-dancing as much as she did. She loved the way he laughed as one of them lost their footing and stumbled. It occurred to her that he didn't laugh nearly enough, and she liked being the cause of his face lighting up and his eyes twinkling, even though she'd have preferred to have been winning him over with witty conversation than clumsiness.

As another song ended, Sirius tapped Remus on the shoulder, and he stopped abruptly. Tonks stumbled a little, and Remus struggled to right her. As she straightened up he shot her an apologetic glance before giving Sirius his full attention.

"Can I cut in?" Sirius said. Tonks tried to stop a reluctant look from forming on her face. It wasn't that she didn't want to dance with Sirius, just....

"Of course," Remus said, dropping Tonks' hands and turning towards his old friend. But Sirius didn't take her hands - he grabbed Remus' and whirled them both around. Tonks roared with laughter at the surprised look on Remus' face, and as Sirius propelled him across the floor towards Molly and the twins, only stopping from colliding with them at the last minute as he changed course and dipped him, she had to lean on the table she was laughing so hard.

She'd barely had a chance to get her breath back when George grabbed her by the hand and insisted on trying to teach her a disco move.

The next few hours passed in a haze of dancing and drinking. She successfully managed to stay upright dancing with Hermione and Ginny, didn't maim either Fred or George despite their insistence that she stick to the proper routine, and it was only when Sirius cornered her and whisked her into some kind of jive that she found herself on her back, on the floor, starring at the ceiling and shaking with laughter. Despite her protests that she was fine where she was, Sirius insisted on pulling her to her feet and depositing her back with the twins, where he seemed to think she could do the least damage.

She was having such fun that she didn't even realise, in spite of the giant golden countdown on the wall, what the time was. As midnight struck, Sirius' countdown boomed the arrival of a new year with canon fire and the streamers burst into a flurry of red sparks. Tonks found herself on the opposite side of the room to Remus, between Fred and George who insisted on giving her kisses on either cheek, and could only watch as Remus bestowed his midnight kiss on a rather tipsy-looking Molly.

She couldn't really find it within herself to mind.

Soon enough Molly bustled the children off to bed, and although there were whoops and bangs from the twins' room for a while (closely followed by Molly shouting at them to stop whatever it was they were doing), eventually, Grimmauld Place fell quiet, with only Sirius, Remus and Tonks still awake in the kitchen.

Owing to a hefty serving of several kinds of drink, Sirius was in excellent spirits, and thumped the heavy dark table to punctuate the punch-line of the rather obscene joke he was currently telling. Remus chuckled after shooting Tonks a rather apologetic glance, and Sirius poured them all another glass of Ogden's Finest Festive Firepunch, the ingredients of which were rumoured to be roughly the same as Doxy repellent.

Tonks sipped her drink gingerly, trying not to cough as it scorched her throat. Sirius knocked his back. "So, cousin," he said. "Any New Year's resolutions?"

"The usual," she said. "Do the washing up straight away instead of leaving it to grow stuff, try and be nicer...maybe buy more sensible shoes."

She starred ruefully at the boots that had been pinching her toes all night, and then kicked them off under the table, wriggling her newly freed toes in her pink and red stripy socks.

"A tremendous set. And you, Moony?"

Remus shook his head. "Ah, I forgot," Sirius said. "You're already practically perfect in every way."

"That's me," Remus said with a wry smile.

"For my part I resolve to drink more," Sirius said, pouring himself another glass of Firepunch.

"You seem to be making an excellent start," Remus said.

"That I am. Cheers," he said, downing his drink. He reached for the bottle and was about to pour himself another glass when he thought better off it and swigged from the bottle. Remus shot him an appalled look across the table. "What?" Sirius said. "I'm just saving time."

For the next hour or so they exchanged stories - Sirius did most of the talking, when he wasn't knocking back Firepunch at least - and Remus interjected with asides that Sirius didn't appreciate and she chuckled at. She liked listening to him talk - the way his voice sounded, the way he rested his head on his hand as he listened, absentmindedly swirling his drink around in his glass with the other. She liked the way he paid attention when she talked, the way he wasn't just waiting for an opportunity to speak, the way he seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say, genuinely amused at her jokes.

She was so deep in Remus-inspired thoughts that she didn't notice Sirius slumping forward in his chair and mumbling a final sentence as he passed out with his face in a plate of cheese and pickle sandwiches. She looked up as he let out a snore.

Remus pushed his chair back from the table and rested his chin on his hands, which were folded on the table. She copied him, leaning on her forearms so she could look him right in the eye across the table top. "Do you think he'll be alright?" she said, gesturing towards Sirius' slumped form with a jerk of her head.

Remus raised an eyebrow at her, and then took one of his hands out from underneath his chin and poked Sirius on the arm. He grunted. "He's fine," Remus said, his eyes flickering back to hers as he retracted his hand back into position.

"That's how you tell, is it?"

"Tried and tested method," Remus replied.

"He'll have a hell of a hangover in the morning," Tonks said.

"Alas no," Remus said. "He doesn't get them."

"That's annoying."

"Quite."

She couldn't think of anything to say, and neither, apparently, could he, and so they gazed at each other across the table, heads resting on their hands, for so long that she forgot what the last thing either of them had said was.

It had been an odd kind of an evening, really. She wasn't sure she was really any closer to figuring out if he had feelings for her or not. He'd been friendly, and there had definitely been something different about him, although she couldn't really put a name on what it was. She wondered what would have happened if they'd been standing together at midnight. Would he have kissed her again? Would that really have solved anything, anyway? Another friendly gesture wouldn't really tell her anything....

"You look thoughtful," he said, regarding her from the top of his tower of fingers.

"That's cos I'm thinking," she said. He gave her a slight smile, and then reached into his pocket and pulled a coin out of it. He gingerly placed it on the table and, still resting his chin on one fist, he slid it across the table top towards her. "What's that?"

"Sickle for them," he said, his hand retreating back under his chin.

"A sickle?" she said. "They're much juicier than that."

"Really?" he said, raising an eyebrow at her across the table. "In that case..."

He reached into the pocket of his trousers and retrieved something shiny, then slid it across the table towards her. She almost didn't want to tear her eyes from his to look down and see what it was, but in the end curiosity got the better of her. It was a galleon. She slid it towards her and picked it up. "It's only a chocolate one," he said. "Harry bought me a bag for Christmas."

"Oh," she said, smiling. "And you keep one in your pocket at all times?"

"For emergencies," he said. "I think this counts." She smiled and unwrapped the foil slowly, extracting the chocolate coin, keenly aware that he was still watching her. She snapped the coin in half and slid one section back across the table towards him. "Thank you," he said, swiping it from its foil and popping it into his mouth. She did the same, waiting for it to melt in her mouth. "Now I believe you owe me a thought," he said.

"Oh," Tonks said, swallowing. She dropped her head back onto her arm. For a second she considered lying, but before she'd finished forming even the idea of one in her head, the words were out of her mouth. "I was just thinking that I wish we'd been standing together at midnight," she said. "Then you would have had to kiss me instead of Molly."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Indeed?" he said, with a half-smile that made her stomach tingle. "I can't say the same thought hadn't crossed my mind. However, that would have deprived the Weasley twins of the opportunity to kiss their favourite Order member, and I'm not sure they would have ever forgiven me."

His eyes twinkled with amusement in the firelight of the grimy basement. "And we never got to dance again," she said quietly.

"No," he said.

"I suppose your feet are grateful."

"Not at all," he said, getting up. Tonks leant back in her chair, watching as he walked round the table to join her and extended his hand. She took it a little uncertainly, and he pulled her gingerly to her feet.

"Are you sure about this?" she said, and he nodded. He adjusted his grip on her hand, lacing his long fingers through hers and resting his other hand on her waist as he pulled her towards him. She looked up at him, trying to still the banging of her heart in her chest before he heard it. "You must be very brave, or very stupid," she said. "Either that or you're impervious to bruises."

"Ah," he said, gazing down at her with his soft grey eyes, "you see, I think I've figured out what the problem was last time."

"Yes?" she said quietly.

"It seems to me that your feet meeting the ground is the cause of all the difficulty," he said. "If we avoid that, we should be alright."

"What are you going to do? Levitate me?"

"I had something rather less complicated in mind," he said. "You could just stand on mine."

"Stand on your feet?" she said, looking down at his shoes and then back up into his eyes. He nodded and smiled.

She bit her lip and thought about it for a moment, knowing that if she accepted his offer, they'd be pressed together. A tingle raced up and down her spine at the thought, and she placed one stripy socked foot on his. He tightened his grip on her waist as she shifted her weight onto the foot that was already on his and lifted the other cautiously, tumbling into him. He steadied her, pulling her into him a little, until she regained her balance and she looked up at him from his chest, giggling nervously.

"Now," he said. "Where were we?"

"You did offer me a tango," she said with a slight shrug, teetering on the tops of his feet.

"Ah, yes," he said, a little reluctantly. She raised an eyebrow at him in challenge. The corners of his mouth twitched in the start of a smile. He swivelled them both towards the fireplace, and held their arms stiffly out in front of them.

"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," she said. Remus flashed both eyebrows at her, and then took a first lurching step, and she gripped the tops of his shoes with her toes, clinging to his shoulder desperately as she laughed. He took another step, and then another, and then stopped. She stared up at him expectantly, wobbling slightly until he tightened his grip on her.

"That's it," he said.

"That's it?"

"Yes," he said. "I'm afraid to inform you that I have no idea how to tango, aside from the first three steps. I just said I did to impress you."

His grey eyes twinkled and her heart fluttered in her chest, although whether the flutter was down to the fact that he had just said that he wanted to impress her or the way he was looking at her, she wasn't entirely sure. "So what do you know how to do?"

"I could attempt to bluff my way through a waltz, if you like."

She pressed her lips together against a grin. "Aren't your feet sore?" she said, wiggling her toes on the top of his shoes.

"I'll live."

"And am I to assume that you are, in fact, just as bad a dancer as I am?"

"I kept up my end of the bargain, didn't I?" he said. "I kept you upright."

"Yes," she said. "I suppose you did."

She took a deep breath and looked up at him. Even though they were in a somewhat damp and dreary basement, with wilted streamers and even more wilted party food, and her standing on his feet was ridiculous, and Sirius was emitting the odd snore, there was something unassailably romantic about their situation. Not traditionally romantic, she supposed, in fact, she wasn't sure she'd ever been in a less romantic setting, but still.... She noticed that at some point Remus had curled both their hands in and they were resting on his chest. She wasn't about to waste the opportunity.

"Doesn't explain why you asked me to dance if you don't know how, though," she said. He gazed down at her, and she thought she saw a glimmer of nervousness in his expression.

"I'd have thought that was perfectly obvious," he said softly. Her heart was beating so quickly she thought she might have a heart attack, but suddenly she felt a surge of bravery.

"Spell it out for me," she said.

He gave her the faintest flash of a smile, his eyes flickering down to her lips almost imperceptibly. His hand drifted up from her waist to her neck and rested there, his fingertips brushing the edges of her hairline and his thumb grazing her jaw as he tilted her face towards his. He placed a slow, soft kiss on her lips, moving over them gently and sending the most delightful shivers through her body. She tightened her grip on his waist and, pressing herself closer into his body, eased up onto her toes. His lips parted slightly above hers, and as he deepened the kiss and wound his fingers into her hair she barely held in a whimper. He slid his hand further into her hair, pulling her mouth more firmly against his in a soft but insistent kiss that made her blood buzz in her veins.

"Moony? Are you taking advantage of my cousin?"

Sirius' voice echoed through the kitchen and Remus pulled away, a rather startled expression on his face that soon gave way to dreamy sheepishness. Tonks stepped off his feet and his hand dropped from her waist and the other slipped out of her hair. She missed their warmth immediately.

"Yes," Remus said, smiling at her conspiratorially. "I rather think I am."

She bit her lip and returned the look, trying very hard not to blush, and turned to face Sirius. "Oh," he said, a slightly smug look on his face as he sat up, peeling a squashed sandwich off his cheek. "Carry on, then."

Sirius got to his feet, and as he straightened up, swayed slightly, and then staggered backwards, his arms flailing, desperately trying to steady himself on thin air. He failed miserably to regain his balance and disappeared from view behind the table. There was a thud, and then groaning spiralled up from the floor. Tonks bit her lip against a laugh and peered over the tabletop to see Sirius sprawled on his back on the floor, clutching at his head, a sheer brown smear of what she hoped was pickle on his cheek. She exchanged a glance with Remus, her heart cantering in her chest. "Time for bed, I think," he said.

"Are you talking to me or her?" Sirius spluttered, and then sniggered furiously.

Remus closed his eyes for a moment and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You," he said.

"I'm fine," Sirius slurred. "Just help me up and I'll Apparate upstairs and leave you two to it."

"You'll splinch yourself into a million pieces. Which is, of course, no less than you deserve, but I'm not sure I can face the mess."

Remus crouched down beside Sirius and took his proffered hand, wrapping Sirius' arm around his shoulder, and pulled him upright. "Come on," he said, anchoring Sirius' hand on his shoulder with one hand and reaching for his waist with the other. He heaved him to his feet with the relative ease of a man who'd had a lot of practice.

"I'll be fine on my own," Sirius said, swaying violently and clutching at Remus' neck to stay upright.

"Evidently," Remus said, his voice rather strangled.

Tonks dashed forward to help, pushing Sirius more upright. Remus shot her a grateful glance, and she took Sirius' other arm, holding it across her shoulders with one hand, and grabbing his belt with the other. "Really," Sirius said, slumping down onto them both. "This is totally unnecessary."

Tonks recoiled from his breath. She smiled at him weakly. "You never told me you fancied him," he said conversationally, as if Remus wasn't there.

"No," she said.

"You should've," he said. "He's been mooning over you for months."

Tonks tried, and failed, to keep her grin internal. "Let's get you upstairs, shall we?" Remus said. She couldn't resist a glance in his direction, and found his frown tempered by a slight smile. He was obviously quite acutely embarrassed, and she wondered if she'd ever seen him look more adorable.

They started stumbling towards the door, making it up the steps more by luck than judgement. "Don't wake your mother," Remus said sternly as he reached for the doorknob.

"Yes, I know. Shhhhh," Sirius said dramatically, spraying the air with a fine mist of alcoholic spit.

Between them they managed to heave Sirius up to his room, his feet alternating between dragging behind him on the carpet and stumbling to keep up. Mrs Black, mercifully, remained silent, and they deposited him on his bed, where he started snoring immediately. Remus took his boots off for him and placed them at the foot of the bed, his eyes darting around the room, his brow furrowed. "What?" she whispered.

"I was looking for a spare blanket."

"Oh," she said, smiling to herself at his thoughtfulness. "I've got one in my room, I think."

She crossed the hallway and pushed the door to her room open. They referred to it as her room even though she had her own home to go to whenever she chose, but even though she didn't really live there it had all the hallmarks of her real bedroom. Discarded clothes littered the floor, papers teetered in piles on every available surface and the whole room had an air of thorough disorder. She was gripped by a sudden panic as she surveyed it - what if Remus wanted to come in?

She scooped up a pile of clothes off the floor and wondered what to do with them. She managed to prize the wardrobe door open with her foot but it was full. She bit her lip, considering throwing them into the desk drawers. She dropped them back onto the floor and shoved them under the bed, frantically spinning through the room trying to squeeze all of her things under there. She picked up the straggling items, and clutched them to her chest, wondering where she could hide them. There was a knock and Remus' head appeared around the door. "Did you find one?"

"Oh," she said, dropping the offending articles and trying to kick them surreptitiously under the desk. She went over to the wardrobe and pulled a pink fuzzy blanket down off the shelf before crossing the room and handing it to him. "Yes."

He folded the blanket over his arm, smiling shyly at her. "Well," he said. "I'd better go and make sure he's alright."

"You're being a lot nicer than he deserves," she said, leaning on the doorframe. "Tucking him in and everything."

"The blanket?" he said. "Oh no, I was going to smother him with it."

"Oh," she said, chuckling slightly.

"He'd do the same for me."

"Has he?"

"Tried to smother me for divulging things I had no business divulging?"

"Looked after you when you'd had a bit too much to drink."

"Oh yes," he said, "but anything he tells you about what I did once after a bottle of Firewhiskey is a total lie."

Tonks grinned at him. "Are we back to hospitalisation, humiliation, nudity and fighting?" she said.

"Three out of the four."

"That sounds like an interesting story."

"One you will never hear," he said, smiling.

They gazed at each other for a moment. She wondered what he was thinking. "Have you really been mooning over me for months?" she said.

"Erm..." he said, nibbling his lip, his eyebrows squashing together as he decided what to say. He thought about it for a long time. "Yes," he said, eventually, a rather playful expression on his face as he winced at his own admission. "To a fairly large extent."

"Oh," she said, failing to keep the amusement out of her voice.

"What?" he said, his voice lilting as he smiled.

"Nothing."

"Ok," he said, wincing again. "Well, I'd better get back." He gestured to the blanket in his hand.

"Hmm."

"I'll see you tomorrow, maybe."

"Probably."

He smiled at her nervously and then turned away, and she did the same. Then she thought better of it and span back before she lost her nerve.

"Remus?" she said, and he turned back to face her, resting his shoulder on the doorframe of Sirius' room.

"Hmm?"

"Me too."

He looked confused for a moment, and then as the realisation of what she was referring to dawned on him he grinned and let out a soft chuckle. "Well that's fortunate," he said. "Or this - " he gestured between them with his fuzzy-blanketed hand " - could have been really embarrassing."

Their mutual admission hung in the air between them and she bit her lip against an outright grin. "Go and suffocate my cousin," she said.

"With pleasure."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he said, his voice little more than an echo as he backed away into Sirius' room. "Happy new year."

She stepped into her room and closed the door softly behind her, before giving in to the weakness of her knees and sliding down onto the carpet. She hugged her knees against her chest and bit her knuckle to stifle the impulse to squeal in excitement which had, for some reason, overtaken her. His words danced around in her head much more gracefully than either of them had managed earlier. Happy new year, she thought to herself. It is now.