Under the Table

Tonks stalked through the undergrowth to the spot where she was supposed to meet Remus, swearing under her breath and wringing out her soaking robes. Typical. Bloody typical.

He was there first, of course, leaning on a tree and checking his watch, even though she wasn't late. As she approached he looked up, and his faint smile disappeared as his eyes skirted over her bedraggled appearance. He glanced up through the trees at the cloudless twilight sky in puzzlement, took in her soaking robes once more as if checking that he had seen what he thought he saw, and then offered her a confused frown.

"It was raining in London," she said, avoiding his eyes. She whipped out her wand and started to dry her sleeves. His lips twitched in amusement.

"Did you not think to conjure an umbrella?"

"Does it look like I thought to conjure an umbrella?"

"No," he said. "Silly question. My apologies."

He paused for a moment and thrust his hands into his pockets, not looking remotely sorry. "I thought we'd start with a preliminary sweep and then - "

"So you've decided you're in charge, have you?" she said, cutting him off.

"Not at all," he said, pleasantly. "Just making a suggestion."

"Well," she said, "we'll do a preliminary sweep and then find somewhere with some cover where we can see the front door."

"An excellent suggestion."

"Right," she said, with a growing sense that he was laughing at her. She drew herself up to her full height and mustered every ounce of professionalism she possessed. "Follow me."

She turned and made for a clearing in the trees. Behind her, Remus snorted with laughter. She stopped abruptly and span back to face him. "What?" she said.

"Nothing," he said, avoiding her eyes, a shifty smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"No, what?" she said more insistently, glaring at him with her hands on her hips.

"It's just - " He stepped towards her and plucked something from the back of her head. "You've got the tiniest bit of duck weed in your hair," he said, holding it out for her inspection.

She narrowed her eyes at him and fought, desperately, not to look embarrassed that he'd figured out what she'd done. Bloody duck ponds, coming up on people unexpectedly after they Apparated.... The war not to look embarrassed waged entirely in the muscles of her jaw. She wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of...well, anything. "Easily done," he said, dropping the weed and wiping his fingers. He managed to keep his expression entirely fixed and passive, but his eyes twinkled with amusement.

"Oh bugger off," she said.

Remus made a valiant effort not to laugh, but failed.

They laid the early detection spells on the edge of the undergrowth surrounding the Malfoy property in a rather terse silence, but every now and then Tonks would glance at Remus and just glimpse a smirk on his face that would disappear the instant he realised she was looking. She knew he was picturing her and the duck pond. She boiled with quiet mortification, concentrating fiercely on the task in hand and trying not to think about how much longer they were going to be trapped together. Of all the things she could have done...and in front of him, of all people....

Laying the spells that would hopefully stop them being rumbled or caught unawares took nearly an hour, and then they headed through the trees towards the edges of the Malfoy property. One hour down, she thought glumly, eleven to go.

The boundary of the property was marked by a low brick wall, and they approached cautiously through the undergrowth, even though the house was a considerable distance away. She wasn't even really sure she could call it a house - small castle would have been a better description. The entranceway that they were supposed to be watching was impressive - a massive oak door with a large, blackened iron knocker, nestled in the heart of a central turret. She'd always thought that her relatives were just putting on airs calling it a mansion, but that door said it all. It really was.

Moody's instructions were that they were to note any arrivals or departures and the times - it was rumoured that the Death Eaters were using the Malfoys' social standing to recruit new members, and that tonight they were having a party for just such a purpose. Any new names or faces would be invaluable intelligence.

"Talk about a humble abode," Tonks said, nodding to the Malfoy mansion and tightening her grip on her wand.

"Quite," Remus said. "Have you ever been inside?"

"No," she said. "Why would I have?"

"I thought maybe with you being related," he said, pausing briefly to detach his trouser leg from a bramble.

"Yeah," she said, "but you don't invite the skeletons in the cupboard to dinner." Remus chuckled quietly.

"No," he said. "I suppose you don't."

He stopped on the edge of a clump of trees and she followed suit. "We'd better - " He took Moody's Invisibility Cloak out of his pocket and it fell to the ground, shimmering slightly. He threw it around his shoulders, raised the hood and partially disappeared, gesturing for her to come closer and draping the cloak around her when she did.

It occurred to her suddenly that there was something very odd about being this close to Remus. She felt the urge to say something, to distract her from the idea that she wouldn't feel particularly odd being this close to Moody or Kingsley, but she supposed she knew them, was used to being in rather closer proximity. "I hate these things," she whispered, wondering as she did it why she was whispering. He paused for a moment, waiting for her to arrange herself so that she was completely covered, and then placed a hand gingerly on her shoulder.

"Ready?" he said.

"As I'll ever be," she said, eying her treacherous feet and the silvery material she was bound to trip over or stand on with disdain.

"Lead on," he said.

Manoeuvring through the undergrowth together was as tricky as she expected, and it took them a while to finally get into a position where they had suitable cover to perform the necessary charms that would hopefully keep them safe, and be able to observe their target at the same time. They decided on a partial clearing, a little way back from the low wall and behind an out of control rhododendron bush, and Remus cast a range of spells to camouflage them. They took off the cloak, and she cast a silencing charm so at least they could pass the time talking.

But Remus wasn't exactly easy company. She'd tried small talk, tried talking Order business, and received nothing but stiff, polite answers in return. She was almost starting to yearn for Mad-Eye and his lectures about constant bloody vigilance. She eyed Remus through the encroaching darkness as he leant against a tree, and decided to give it another go.

"What time is this thing supposed to be starting?" she said.

"Nine-ish."

"What time is it now?"

"Seven."

"Oh bloody hell," she said. It was worse than she thought. She'd expected it to be at least eight. "Do you want to play a game or something to pass the time?"

"Why not?" he said, raising an eyebrow at her. "I've always felt that games were an integral part of any covert operation. Quidditch?"

She glared at him, and then sighed. If games were off the cards, there was only one thing for it.

Since their conversation in the library she'd decided that he might be worth getting to know after all, however hard he wanted to make it, and besides, they could hardly stand around in silence all night. "Alright," she said. "Let's talk about you."

Remus shot her a look that said he'd rather dance a tango with a manticore, but she persisted anyway. "Who's your favourite band?"

"I'm pretty sure I haven't got one," he said.

"What's your favourite food?"

He sighed and closed his eyes momentarily. "Tonks, really," he said.

"It's not hard, Remus."

"Chocolate," he said, feeling like he was answering one of the questionnaires foist upon minor Wizarding celebrities in Molly's Witch Weekly magazines.

"Colour?"

"I do prefer it," he said. She rolled her eyes at him.

"What's your favourite colour?"

"I don't know, Tonks," he said, rolling his eyes and them rumpling his brow in confusion. "Blue?"

This wasn't getting them anywhere. She decided to change tack. "If you got really drunk and accidentally slept with someone really ugly - like hag ugly - would you make your escape when they were sleeping and hope you never saw them again, wait 'til they woke up and tell them you had a lovely time so as not to hurt their feelings, or Obliviate them?"

She'd only said it to see if it would make him uncomfortable, and when he frowned rather more in thought than horror she was quite impressed. Remus sighed, rubbing his forehead with his long fingers as he considered her question. "What was the second option?" he asked.

"Wait 'til they wake up and tell them you had a lovely time so as not to hurt their feelings."

"I don't know," he said, folding his arms across his chest and letting out a rather resigned sigh. "That one, probably."

"Really?" she said.

"I don't know, Tonks," he said, his tone a little weary. "I don't tend to go around accidentally sleeping with people, ugly or otherwise."

"But you do go around sleeping with people? You just do it on purpose?"

"As a rule."

"As a rule you go around sleeping with people?"

"No, as a rule if I sleep with someone I tend to do it on purpose," he said, exasperated. He wondered, firstly, why on earth she wanted to know, and secondly if these interrogation skills were something she'd picked up during Auror training.

"Are you sleeping with anyone on purpose at the moment?" she said. He shot her an appalled look. "What?" she said, smiling cheekily.

Remus cleared his throat and straightened up. "Maybe we should split up," he said brightly. "Watch the door from more than one angle."

"You're just saying that because you don't want to talk about your sex-life," she said.

Remus let out a rather annoyed sigh and closed his eyes momentarily before turning away. "Yes," he muttered, as he stomped away through the undergrowth. "I am."

She turned to follow him, getting her foot caught in a root ball and nearly dislocating her ankle. When she finally caught up with him, he looked mildly miffed. "Forgive me," he said, "but I've always been lead to believe that splitting up involved you being in one place and me being somewhere else."

"I'll get bored," she said, with a note of a threat in her voice.

"A risk I think I'm prepared to take," he said. "Do you want the rhododendron, or that thing?"

She looked up and found that Remus was pointing at a large, dark bush just to their left. "That thing," she said miserably, staring desolately at the ground.

"Right," he said, smiling slightly in spite of himself. "Now stay."

He trudged back to the rhododendron, sighing. It rustled as he disappeared behind it.

She let out a rather sulky huff and then moved behind the bush Remus had assigned her, realising too late and in rather a painful way that it had smart, inch long thorns all over it.

She folded her arms and glowered at him, even though she couldn't see where he was.

Two hours down, ten to go.

Tonks sat stiffly behind her bush, glowering at the darkness. They'd been there for hours and nothing had happened. Absolutely nothing. Not a dog barking, not a leaf rustling, not even a hedgehog snuffling had disturbed the peaceful spring tranquillity anywhere near the Malfoy mansion, let alone a whole bunch of Death Eaters Apparating to a party.

She lit her wand and gripped it between her knees so the beam wasn't pointing towards the house, and then took a bit of parchment out of her pocket, and fumbled for a biro. She always kept one handy because they were far less inconvenient then quills, although in her hands, just as prone to leaking. She scrawled the words 'I'm bored' on the parchment, and then sent it sailing to where she knew Remus was sitting.

It landed next to his ankle, but assuming he'd imagined the mild swish of his trouser leg, he ignored it. She huffed when after ten minutes he hadn't replied and whipped out another bit of parchment. I said, I'm bored, she wrote, and this time she made sure she aimed it directly at him. She heard his rhododendron rustle, and knew she'd made contact.

Minutes later, the parchment came back:

Funny, I'm having the time of my life here.

She scowled at it. You're infuriating, she scribbled, on impulse, and sent it back.

I know, came the reply.

Tonks let out an exaggerated breath of disapproval and annoyance. He really was the most infuriating man she'd ever met. He was also the only thing that stood between her and going stir-crazy in the shrubbery. She chewed the end of her biro, wondering what to say next - something that would stop him being infuriating, and her being bored. She shifted her position to consider it, remembering too late that the bush she was hiding behind had smart, inch long, thorns and being rewarded for her forgetfulness with a sharp scrape on her shin. She muttered an ow, and sat straight up, cursing herself for not choosing the rhododendron when Remus had given her the choice. She rubbed at the scrape.

Do you want to play a game now?

Surely he must be just as bored as she was. The parchment came back quickly.

Please, Tonks, don't start asking me about my sex-life again.

She chuckled. I've known you for nine months, she wrote, smirking. I'm pretty certain you don't have one.

The note came back almost immediately, and a little faster than she'd been expecting. It over-shot, and she had to scrabble in the dirt to retrieve it. It had only two words on it:

Pot. Kettle.

She was caught between amusement and infuriation. How did he do that? How did he always manage to wrestle back the upper hand?

She sulked for twenty minutes, but in the end her desire not to spend the next nine and a half hours in stony silence overrode any infuriation with Remus, gigantic as it was.

So do you want to? she wrote.

To what am I agreeing, here? he answered.

A game, she replied wondering what on earth he thought she meant.

Of what? came the swift reply.

Since my shrub's thorny, I think strip poker's off the cards, she wrote, chewing the end of her biro and trying to think of a game they could play in this rather bizarre situation. Truth or dare?

How do you propose we do the dares without compromising our position? came the reply. Are you really proposing a game of truth or truth?

Tonks chewed the end of her biro and thought about it. Do you have any better ideas? she wrote and tossed the paper to him.

I'm assuming concentrating on the task in hand isn't an option? he wrote.

Truth or truth it is, she wrote. We take it in turns to ask each other two questions, and we have to answer one of them truthfully.

She screwed the parchment into a neat-ish ball and lobbed it over to him. She didn't have to wait very long for her reply.

That sounds like a very silly game, Tonks. I'm in.

It took her a moment to register what he'd written. Then another few moments to wonder what on earth she wanted to ask him. She finally settled on:

Have you ever had a girlfriend, or is it true that werewolves get horny before the full moon?

The reply came back: Yes.

Damn, she thought, and made a mental note to be more careful with the wording of her questions. She turned to his. Why are you so interested in my sex-life or what's your real hair like?

No chance I'm answering the first one, she thought. Brown and boring, she wrote. Then stalled on her next question. Did you kiss her, or what was her name?

Yes, I did. Many times. Can you cook, or what's your middle name?

I haven't got one. My mother did all the damage she needed with the first one. What was your first kiss like or what was your last kiss like?

You're obsessed. It was in the snow, at night, and very romantic. Have you ever thought about a career as a tabloid journalist or what's your favourite sweet?

Tonks was about to scribble the words 'strawberry sherbets' when it occurred to her that this was ridiculous. She scuttled through the bushes to where Remus was sitting. "This is stupid," she said. "Why don't we just talk to each other?"

"Because - " he started. Then he stopped, without explanation. He'd created some kind of tiny, low-light fire, and the shimmering light just illuminated his features enough for her to make out a look that said he wasn't about to elaborate.

"What?"

"Nothing," he said, smiling pleasantly. "You're right. Have a seat."

He shuffled along on the grass, making room for her to sit down, and she slid onto the grass next to him, rubbing her arms against the chill and watching as the flames in front of them shivered. "Do you promise not to get annoyed with me again?" she said.

"No," he said.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not in the business of making promises I'm not sure I can keep," he said, glancing at her, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Maybe if you promised not to be annoying...."

"I wasn't being annoying," she said petulantly. "I'm just interested. Some people like to take an interest in other people. Those of us who aren't hampered by our arse-aching boringness, at any rate."

"So now I'm arse-achingly boring?" he said, his voice lilting with amusement.

"Yes."

"Which is presumably a good deal more boring than just being boring."

"Yes. By a factor of about ten."

"Right," he said, nodding and smiling to himself.

"What?"

"Nothing," he said. "Just - if I'm so arse-achingly boring, I'm puzzled as to why on earth you would be so keen to talk to me."

She couldn't think of anything to say, so she glared at him. He looked away and his face disappeared into shadow, but she heard him let out a muffled snigger. There was definitely something about the tone of his snigger that gave her the distinct and rather familiar impression that he was making a joke she didn't understand at her expense.

Two and a half hours down, nine and a half to go.

"Who was it?" she whispered. "I couldn't quite make them out."

"Rookwood," Remus whispered back. It occurred to her that there was no need for either of them to be whispering. Remus checked his watch, took out a quill and scratched a sentence in a small notebook with a red cover. She craned her neck to see what he'd written, but the page was blank.

"Oh very clever," she said. "Invisible ink?"

"Hardly," he said.

Two and three quarter hours down, nine and a quarter to go.

"Bit quiet for a party, isn't it?" she said. Remus rolled his eyes.

"If only," he said.

By the time she had figured out what he meant, the moment to be overtly annoyed about it or offer a witty retort had passed.

She seethed quietly at him. Git.

Three hours down, nine to go.

"What do you think Death Eaters do at parties?" she said, eying the house that was now full with Death Eaters they were mostly acquainted with already, their spouses and the odd family member, and a couple of apparent new recruits.

"I think you can file that under things I'd rather not know," Remus said.

"Hmm. I wonder what the food's like?" she said. "Mum always said Narcissa was an appalling cook - I suppose she'd get someone in though, or maybe they've got a new house-elf. It's probably pretty good, I reckon. Slightly better than a buffet." Remus made a non-committal noise, watching the house intently.

"Isn't it odd that they all brought presents?" she said. "It's weird thinking of people like that doing, I don't know, normal things. Although I suppose we don't know what they were. Could've been anything - cheese enchanted to detect blood-traitors, wine that poisons people slowly, snackable petrified hamsters.... I suppose they must have put a lot of thought into it. What to get Malfoy - the Death Eater who has everything. You don't want to make an enemy of him and You-Know-Who just by getting an inappropriate gift." She left a lengthy pause, waiting for Remus to speak. He didn't. "Don't you think?" More silence. "Remus?"

"Undoubtedly Borgin and Burkes has had a bumper weekend," he said.

"So you were listening, then?" she said. "I thought you might have put a silencing charm on me or something."

"Now there's an idea," Remus said quietly, the flash of a smile on his face.

Three and a half hours down, eight and a half to go.

"What are we supposed to do now?" she said.

"Wait."

"For what?"

"For whatever happens next," he said. "Or morning."

Or for me to snap and strangle you for being so bloody annoying, she thought. Tonks picked distractedly at a loose thread on her robes, pulling it until the fabric puckered and then eventually a hole appeared. She let out a huff of annoyance at herself for doing it and Remus for not providing her with adequate distractions.

Four hours down, eight to go.

"You're going to have to talk to me," she said. He didn't respond. "Nothing fancy," she offered. "I'd settle for a nice chat about the weather."

"I hear it's raining in London."

She scowled at him.

He ignored her.

Four and a half hours down, seven and a half to go.

"You know," she said, "I'm going to have to tell Moody that the next time he decides I need some company on a mission, that stuffed owl in Scrimgeour's office will do just as well as you." Remus' eyes flickered in her direction, but he didn't say anything. "Are you sure you don't want to play another game?" she said.

"Yes, thank you."

"What do you want to do instead?"

"Sit here quietly," he said. "Although at the moment that seems something of a pipe dream."

Tonks folded her arms across her chest. "The stuffed owl wouldn't be this much of an arse," she said.

"I doubt it'd play games with you either."

"So you will play a game with me?"

"No," he said.

"Can I have a go at your notebook, then?"

"A go?" he said, eying her quizzically.

"A go at reading it. I'm just interested in what kind of charm you used," she said.

"Alright," he said, and he tossed it to her. "But do try not to, you know, harm it."

She shot him a thunderous look. "I am a professional. What do you think I'm going to do? Accidentally incinerate the evidence?"

The look on his face made her wish she hadn't said that. Evidently that was exactly what he thought she was going to do. "Do your worst," he said, raising his hands defensively, a slight smile on his lips.

Tonks held the notebook in her hands for a minute, considering it, her eyebrows pressed together in concentration. She tapped her wand on one corner. "Revelo," she said. Remus watched her evenly. It was more annoying than if he'd outright smirked. "I thought I'd start out easy," she said, and then muttered another couple of spells under her breath. "Aparecium," she muttered. Nothing happened.

She shot him a vaguely annoyed look, and tried another couple of spells. Remus continued to look at her with his even grey eyes, seeming simply intrigued to see if she was going to figure it out. A flash of inspiration crossed her mind, and she waved her wand over the page in a low whirl. Nothing happened. She continued to try spell after spell, refusing to give in, and Remus continued to watch her with the same expression of maddening, good-natured, intrigue.

Eventually she sighed and let the notebook fall into her lap. She drummed her fingers on it for a moment, her lips pursed in abject thought. "Alright," she said. "I know you're dying to tell me."

"On the contrary," Remus said. "You were quite close to figuring it out at one point. Please, continue."

She met his eyes. They were smiling slightly. She turned back to the notebook. "It's not something really obvious, is it?" she said.

"A little, perhaps," he said, with a nod of faint amusement.

Tonks drummed her fingers on the notebook again. "Accio ink," she said.

"Very clever," he said, but nothing appeared.

"Go on," she said. "Put me out of my misery."

Remus took the book out of her hands. "I solemnly swear that I am up to note-making," he said, and gave the notebook a soft tap with his wand. It fell open, and Tonks watched, smiling in spite of herself, as writing appeared on the page in a slow trickle. "Schoolboy trick," he said.

"Ingenious. Moody would be impressed," she said.

He tilted his chin down and peered up at her. "Am I to take it, then, that you are not?" he said, raising his eyebrows a fraction.

"No, I am," she said quickly, but as she met his eye she knew he had been joking and felt momentarily foolish for offering such an eager reply.

Remus tapped his notebook with his wand again, muttered a few words she couldn't make out, and the writing disappeared. "What time is it?" she said, forcing the words out against a yawn, and Remus obligingly checked his watch, tilting it towards the fire so he could read it.

"Just after midnight," he said, and cast an eye at the door. Five hours down, she thought. Seven to go.

All things considered, and duck ponds aside, she thought things weren't going too badly. At least they hadn't strangled each other.

Five and a half hours down, six and a half to go.

"Are you hungry?" he said.

"Starving."

He rummaged in his pocket for a moment and then pulled something out and tapped it with his wand, where it turned into a neatly wrapped package. He unfurled the foil to reveal a couple of sandwiches and offered her one, and momentarily she wondered if he thought she was stupid for not bringing anything herself. "They're cheese and pickle, and they don't bite," he said, smiling slightly and evidently misinterpreting her hesitation.

"Thanks," she said, taking a sandwich. She peeled the crusts off and ate those first, and Remus watched her curiously for a moment. "They're my favourite bit," she offered in explanation.

"If you'd said," he said, "I would have been only too happy to provide you with sandwiches with a crust and pickle filling instead of cheese."

She couldn't quite decide if he was being funny or making fun of her, and unable to properly read his expression in the darkness, she just chewed thoughtfully. "I brought tea too, if you'd like some," he said, rummaging in his pocket and producing a miniature flask that was soon full-size, and then conjuring a couple of mugs.

"You do like to come prepared," she said, as he tapped his wand on the side of the flask to heat it, and then poured the steaming liquid into one of the mugs and handed it to her.

"This is not my first night sitting in the undergrowth, waiting for Malfoy to make his move," Remus said.

"Oh?" she said. "We're not just here to spot party-guests?"

"Added bonus. He's up to something," Remus said. "Has been for a while."

Five and three quarter hours down, six and a quarter to go.

Tonks sipped her tea while Remus polished off his sandwich and then reached for his mug. "Who do you normally sit in the undergrowth with, then?" she said.

"Why?" Remus asked, taking a sip. "Are you jealous?"

"Only if you play games with them."

Six hours down, six to go.

Remus leant back on his hands and offered her a look of amused resignation. "What would you like to play?"

"Thumb war?" she offered.

Six hours, seven minutes down, five hours, fifty-three minutes to go.

"You let me win that last one," she said.

"Yes."

She was slightly taken aback that he hadn't even put up a token protest. "Why?" she said.

"I thought you deserved to at least win one for effort," he said. "After all, I do have something of an unfair natural advantage."

She was torn between thinking that that was maddeningly annoying, and really rather sweet.

Six and a half hours down, five and a half hours to go.

"Can I ask you something?" he said quietly, and she turned towards him expectantly. He regarded her curiously, as if she was a puzzle he was trying to figure out. "Why did you lie?" he said.

"Lie?" she said. "About what?"

"Why didn't you want me to know you'd fallen in the pond?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"If it was," he said, lowering his chin and peering at her with a rather amused expression, "I wouldn't be asking."

She rolled her eyes, more at herself than at him. She looked away into the darkness. She couldn't tell him the truth and have him look at her at the same time. "You already think I'm an idiot," she said. "I suppose I didn't want to give you any more cause."

Remus let out a faint sigh. "You know," he said, "I'd appreciate it if you'd let me earn your low opinion of me rather than just automatically assuming the worst. It's more fun."

"My low opinion of you?" she said.

"Yes," he said. "You just assumed that I think you're an idiot, when in fact, I think anything but."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," he said.

"Then why are you always laughing at me?"

"Did it ever occur to you," he said, "that I'm laughing because I think you're funny?"

"No."

"See?" he said, raising an eyebrow at her. "Low opinion."

She shifted uncomfortably on the grass.

Six and three quarter hours down, five and a quarter to go.

"What else do you think about me?" she said. He raised an eyebrow at her, and reached for his mug, hiding his grin behind it.

"Now you're just fishing for compliments," he said.

"Am not."

"Are," he said.

"Am not."

"Are."

"Am not."

"Are."

She opened her mouth but was stopped mid-am by the sound of the Malfoy door slamming open and the Lestranges storming out. They Disapparated without saying a word. "Dissention in the ranks," Remus said evenly, picking up his notebook and scribbling in it intently. "Maybe they didn't like the snackable petrified hamsters."

She laughed.

Seven and a half hours down, four and a half to go.

"Tell me a story," she said.

"A story?"

"A story about you."

"Does Moody tell you stories?"

"No, but you're not Moody."

"No," he said. "He's far better looking."

"And slightly better tempered."

Remus made a noise of vague protest, and then laughed. "Do you really think I'm funny?" she said. He met her eye briefly and then gazed off into the distance, the faintest trace of what may well have been a grin on his face, had he have allowed it to form.

"Why else would I be laughing?" he said serenely.

Eight hours down, which meant...how many to go? Oh bugger it, she thought.

Tonks yawned, realising just how tired she was. She shook her head to try and clear it and stretched. Then she slumped forward onto her knees, and just closed her eyes for a second.....

A voice, hoarse and yet insistent, seemed to be saying something. "Tonks?" the voice said. "Wake up."

Tonks thought that if she ignored it, it'd probably go away. She reached for her blanket and pulled it tighter around her. The only problem was that her pillow appeared to be twitching. And bony. "Tonks."

"Hmmm?" she mumbled, pulling the blanket closer.

"Nymphadora."

The voice sounded amused. It was definitely laughing at her. She opened her eyes and then sat up, coming face to face with Remus. For a second she wondered what he was doing in her bedroom. "What?" she said, drowsily.

"It's morning. You fell asleep."

She took in the daylight, and where she was sitting, and what she was clutching in her hand, and realised that she must have fallen asleep on his shoulder, and that at some point he'd draped his coat around her. Embarrassed, she bundled it into a ball and handed it to him, rubbing her arms against the cold that quickly wrapped its way around her. "Sorry," she said.

"Quite alright."

"No it's not," she said. "I shouldn't've - "

"Has anyone ever told you that you snore?"

"Do not."

"Yes you do," he said. "The ground was shaking, the trees were moving...at first I thought it was an earthquake."

She glared at him. "How long have I been asleep?"

"A few hours."

"You should have woken me up."

"And deprive myself of the pleasure of floating leaves on your snores and tickling you under the chin to see what kind of amusing faces you might pull?" he said.

"You didn't."

"I suppose you'll never know," he said, scrambling to his feet.

Git, she thought, only this time it felt a little bit half-hearted.

"Come on," he said, "let's get out of here." He held out his hands to her, and she took them and let him pull her to her feet. She stamped the feeling back into them.

As they slipped back under the Invisibility Cloak and trudged out of the woods and into the harsh sunlight, she couldn't help thinking that only half-heartedly thinking he was a git was a rather worrying precedent. Especially when it was a lie. She didn't really think he was a git at all. Not any more. Worrying.