Ink: An Epistolary Romance

When Tonks awoke the next morning, a number of thoughts assaulted her unprepared brain. Most of them had to do with kissing and letters and such, and there was one inexplicable one involving a hand-puppet and an unnaturally large lemon. (This, she decided, was probably a remnant of a dream, and so she left it alone.) But the most prominent thought was a recognition of the basic human need to avoid going to work.

Usually she was able to overcome this primitive urge to remain in bed for the rest of the day, but on this day she knew there was simply no getting around it. She didn't have the energy. So she sent an apology to the Ministry via owl, with the simplest explanation she could think of: she was sick, she wanted to stay home and rest, she'd see them all tomorrow, and have a pleasant day. Then she went right back to sleep.

Shortly before noon, she finally ventured into the shower and then downstairs for something to eat. She'd fully expected to find Sirius downstairs, and there he was, reading the Prophet in his usual armchair in the sitting room. He smiled at her as she passed.

What she'd not expected, though, was to find Remus - but there he was too, sitting in the kitchen with a scrap of parchment in his hand. The very same scrap of parchment that she'd slipped under his door the night before.

"Good morning," she said warily, and he looked up at her with a bright smile.

She lingered in the doorway and her eyes lingered on the note, but as soon as he realized what she was looking at, he tucked the scrap into his pocket and rose from the table.

"Fancy a bite to eat?" he said.

"Not really," she faltered. It was true; she suddenly wasn't entirely sure she could handle the process of chewing and swallowing while he was there.

"Coffee, then?" he said. "I've made some."

She couldn't help smiling, especially when she saw that he'd already taken a mug out for her.

Filling the mug and handing it to her, he said, "Sit?"

She did so, silently adding a couple of sugars to her drink before taking a sip. And another sip. And another. He was quiet, and she was concentrating on her coffee, but she could tell that he was watching her.

"Are you going to say something?" she asked after a few long moments.

"I was waiting for you."

"And I was waiting for you," she countered.

"Very well," he said with a smile. "Yes, I did read your letter."

She looked sharply up at him. "I didn't ask."

"Maybe not," he conceded. "But you were wondering."

The look on his face told her that he knew he was right, but it wasn't a smug look. It was simply the look of someone who knew, and was content with knowing.

With a small sigh, she stirred her coffee and said, "Yeah."

After another moment, he said, "Thank you for writing it."

She looked up again, thoroughly perplexed.

"I mean," he said, "for confiding."

"Oh," she said, feeling herself blush. "There was nobody else I could tell, really. Except for April - you don't know her - but she was at the pub too and she didn't think anything was wrong. And Sirius, but he'd laugh, probably."

"He would?"

"Of course he would. He's Sirius. And anyway, you were the one I wanted to tell."

He folded his hands modestly on the table, inclining his head ever so slightly as he studied her. "Was I?"

"Mmhmm," she mumbled through a sip of coffee. "I thought you'd understand."

She watched with worried eyes as he considered this. "Because of the notes," she added, as if this needed to be clarified.

He nodded, his brow furrows, and that little line appeared....

"Because it didn't feel right," she pressed on, unable now to stop the words coming out of her mouth. "It didn't, I mean, I didn't know him. I only kissed him because I was being stupid and I was tired of waiting and--"

"Waiting?" he said, and the one quiet word stopped her dead in her tracks.

She stirred her coffee steadily. "For the right one. Waiting. I'm tired of it. Or I was last night, anyway."

"You'll find him," he said softly. "I said you would, remember?"

She met his eyes again, her lips pressed tightly together in frustration. Surely such a bright man couldn't be so dense.

"Unless," he said slowly, "you already have someone in mind?" She saw him watching intently for her reaction, and she dropped her gaze as she nodded. "Who is it?"

"Um," she said awkwardly, wrapping both hands around her coffee cup for balance or support or just something to keep them from shaking. "Do you promise not to laugh?"

They were stupid words to say, she knew, but she had to make sure. He might not love her back, but he had better understand that this was a serious matter for her.

"I promise," he said, and she heard no trace of irony or sarcasm in his words.

She said, "You."

There was a silence. Tonks didn't dare look up.

"I thought it might be," he said after a moment. And then, more softly, "I'm glad I was right."

"You are?" said Tonks quickly, but at the same moment the kitchen door swung open and Sirius strode in. "Tea, Remus?" he asked brightly, effectively cutting her off.

Tonks felt as though she could strangle her cousin with her bare hands, but Remus - no, Remus was as calm as ever. "I've only made coffee," he replied pleasantly. "If you want tea, you'll have to make it yourself."

"Right then," said Sirius, and busied himself doing just that. Tonks heard him mutter something involving the words "coffee" and "idiots," but that was the last thing she was concerned about.

When Remus looked back at her, his expression had changed. She couldn't quite put her finger on what it was, but he was somehow less focused on her, even as he looked her in the eye. It was as if nothing at all had happened between them before Sirius had walked in.

"Will you be here later?" he said, and even his voice was different.

"Are you leaving?" she asked in reply, unable to hide the incredulity in her voice.

"I have to," he said. "I'm sorry. But will you be here later?"

She nodded, dumbstruck, and he said, "Good."

Before he left, he kissed her forehead.

She could have screamed.