Why Do You Hide?

Tonks was more tired than she had ever been in her entire life. Between all the extra work that had been flowing in at the ministry and the almost-nightly missions for the Order she had been wearing farther and farther down over the past few days. Even what little effort it took to maintain her "masks", as Remus always called them, was rapidly failing her. If her hair, currently a rich dark blue, survived the night it would be a miracle. She needed sleep and she needed as much of it as possible as soon as possible.

"I'm outta here, Tim," she said to the man in the desk across from her.

"Paperwork overload?" he joked.

"Everything overload," she muttered, picking up her cloak.

"So if you owl in sick tomorrow, don't be shocked?"

She glared at him before going out the door. "If I don't wake up for the next year, don't be shocked," she grumbled.

On the walk from her office to the elevator Tonks considered her options. She could Apparate back to her flat, but thanks to the protective spells on it and the rules about such things she would actually have to Apparate to an alley around back, then after walking around the building she would have to climb three flights of stairs. Blast the people who built her apartment building for making it without an elevator. The fact that it was built before elevators were even invented was entirely beside the point. And, after all that effort, the bloody dog next door would wake her up a thousand times during the night. One of these days, she was going to snap and curse that thing into oblivion.

On the other hand, she could Apparate to Number 12 Grimmauld Place. It was still used by the Order as their headquarters, and Molly always said that anyone from the Order was welcome any time. She wouldn't have to go up near as many stairs to reach somewhere comfortable, there wasn't anything there that would wake her up in the night, and as an added bonus she wouldn't have to make breakfast in the morning. Molly always made enough food for the whole Order to have seconds and thirds of everything, regardless of how many people were actually going to be there. Tonks managed a smirk at the thought of who was almost guaranteed to be there: Molly and probably Arthur Weasley, maybe a few of their older children, depending on their schedules, and Remus. Her smirk gained strength and became a full smile as she thought of quiet Remus, with his 'happy self' locked away from the rest of the world, but not from her: she could make him forget himself, even without any real effort.

By the time Tonks exited the elevator and made it to the Apparition points, she had made up her mind.

*~*~*

Remus couldn't sleep, yet again. Every time he tried, he would have one nightmare or another. Their topics seemed to cycle through James, Peter, Harry, and Sirius but he was used to those. It had been three months since Sirius' death, and he had already come to terms with it. He'd suffered a lot of loss, and he was starting to become talented at dealing with it. But when Tonks became a part of the nightmares... That he couldn't handle very well.

One night they would be in the Department of Ministries and it was Tonks in Sirius' place, and Remus couldn't help her no matter how hard he tried. The next night it would begin as some sort of fantasy; he would finally overcome his fears and tell her he was interested in her, she would say she felt the same, they would be about to kiss, and occasionally would succeed, but then a transformation would come over him and she would soon be running from the werewolf while it grew nearer and nearer. Then on another night he would be greeting her at breakfast and she would suddenly go off on a long tirade about how werewolves are inherently evil no matter who they might be and how much she hated him and how she never wanted to see him again.

That was the one that bothered him most. He couldn't exactly place why, but he had a pretty good idea of it. In the other two nightmares she was simply gone, and there was nothing he could do. But in the third nightmare, she would still be there, still be around, but entirely out of his reach - even only for a friendship. It would be like seeing the best thing in the world just on the other side of a glass window instead of it having never been there at all or it being in his hands for an instant, just long enough to know what it felt like, before it disappeared forever. He sighed at the sad thought and looked around the room for something to cheer him up.

A book on his bedside table caught his attention. Tonks had given it to him and he had no idea what the title was, since it was written in hieroglyphics. All he knew was that it was about a boy who had left a country similar to Egypt but much smaller to train in a city similar to Muggle London to be an assassin. When his father, the pharaoh, dies, he goes back and tries to update the country with his newly-learned ideas but meets conflict from the corrupt high priest. He's building a pyramid for his father, the biggest pyramid ever, and it's causing all kinds of problems in space-time, a headstrong handmaiden has accidentally captured his heart by thinking for herself, unlike the rest of the country, but she's really his half-sister, and this was all in the first slightly-more-than-half of the book. Remus was amazed by the way the author - a Muggle named Pratchett - could make something as complex as that, in its own world, and have it all be funny and make sense. He suspected that Tonks had given him the book as an attempt to cheer him up after Sirius died, and it had worked. He needed cheering up now, as well, so he lifted the book from its place on the table, took a few soft blankets with him, and walked downstairs to the sitting room. There was a couch in there he liked particularly well, but he hadn't had much time to read since the children had left and while they were at the mansion one teenager or another had always claimed the couch before he could.

Someone had claimed his couch now, too. As Remus entered the room and turned to sit down he saw something he didn't expect - Tonks. She was curled up on the couch, asleep, and had obviously been completely exhausted because she held no mask as she dreamt. Her hair was about shoulder-length, slightly wavy, and a dark brown; her face didn't look much different than it normally did, but this face showed the signs of her fatigue: faint worry lines on her forehead, slightly sunken cheeks, purple marks under her eyes... Remus leaned in for a closer look just to make sure and saw that at the very roots of her hair half an inch of silver had grown. He touched the gray near the front of her scalp and let his hand slide down the side of her face from there. She turned into the touch, but she didn't wake up.

She looked older like this. He couldn't tell if he liked it or not, but he was leaning toward liking it. Seeing this side of Tonks made him feel less like a dirty old man. Here was a woman who was still in diapers when he first left for Hogwarts, but who seemed as old and-he smiled-gray as he did. Maybe, some part of his heart said, you could have a chance with this side of her. Some part of his mind added this to the list of things he loved about her.

It's like my whole body is against me, Remus thought bitterly.

As Tonks shifted in her sleep, Remus noticed that she was laying with her arms wrapped around herself and her legs curled close to her for warmth. Of course she was freezing in here, the only blankets available were flimsy afghans Molly had made to make the room seem more 'homely'. They did nothing, so it was no wonder Tonks hadn't even bothered to put up the fight it took to get one of them detached from its piece of furniture. Remus took the blankets he had brought off his shoulder and laid them over Tonks. She mumbled something too quiet and slurred for him to hear, stretching into a more comfortable position. When she was done shifting the blankets around he could only see a profile from the tip of her nose up.

He couldn't help but smile at her, especially since he could tell she was doing the same thing. Another item on the list of things he loved about her: she always smiled with her eyes. He reached down and ran the back of his finger along the edge of what little of her face he could see and for a moment entertained the thought of kissing her on the forehead, but he dismissed the idea quickly. Knowing his luck she would probably wake up the moment he did, and then things would be awkward. Instead, he simply turned around, picked the armchair across the room (also squashy, but not quite as much), opened his book to its small metal bookmark, and began to read. Every so often he would look up at the mass of blanket known as Tonks, imagining that he could see the sliver of gray, and his heart would smile at her, but before too long the book had drawn him in completely.

*~*~*

Tonks didn't have a reason to wake up other than force of habit, but she did it all the same. She sighed in exasperation, thinking of legal curses she could use to eliminate small dogs, but then it dawned on her where she was. She scanned the room with her eyes(the rest of her body was too comfortable and still too asleep to move) and squinted at the shape across the room from her. Buggered blind family... She morphed the interior of her eyes to correct the near-sightedness of her father and looked again. Remus was sitting in an armchair, reading the Muggle book she had given him. She fought to hold in a laugh at how he was reacting to it since he hadn't noticed she was awake. He was leaning forward slightly in suspense, and a position which was originally just resting the book on his knees had come very close to his elbows resting on them instead, and he had the goofiest grin on his face, occasionally laughing at an especially funny bit. Whenever he laughed he would glance at her to make sure he hadn't woken her up, so she would pretend to be asleep until he turned back to his reading.

She didn't get to see this version of him very often. This was the real Remus, happy-Remus, the one who had been around during his Marauder days. He was mindful of rules and homework and being polite, but he still knew how to have fun. This was the Remus she heard about in stories from Dumbledore, Sirius, McGonagall, anyone who knew him then. He was very different from hiding-Remus, as she called it, when he would try to be as bland as humanly possible in order to avoid attention. There was also depressed-Remus, who locked himself away in his room, angry-Remus, who never actually raised his voice but had mastered a disappointed tone that even Molly Weasley broke under, and mealtime-Remus, an odd variation of hiding-Remus, but with a bit of energy in him. Sometimes she could make mealtime-Remus more like his happy self, but it only seemed to last until it re-occurred to him that people were around and something dark suddenly fell behind his eyes and he would make some excuse to turn away from her.

At first she thought the darkness was him remembering that he didn't like her. Then after she knew that was false, she thought it had something to do with protecting his image from her childish behavior. She tried to behave better after that, but then he asked her what was wrong, if something was bothering her, so she knew that couldn't be it. Recently she thought the darkness had another level to it, that it was because she reminded him of Sirius too much. She didn't know what to do about that one.

She looked at him again, grinning like a fool at something as simple as a Terry Pratchett book, and couldn't help but smile herself. This was the sort of moment that made her wonder why he always went on about being so old. If he was always this way, open to people instead of trying to hide himself away she might have been more confident about someday telling him how she felt. If she tried to talk to him, regardless of which side it was, she would probably just be met with the darkness that closed him off from her. But every meal she managed to pull him out from behind his own mask her hope of being able to tell him would be brought back to life and would sometimes survive the darkness later.

She sighed in exasperation again. Why did he have to be so confusing?

The sleep that had remained in her body poked at her eyes and mind again. She rolled over to get more comfortable and began to drift off again. She'd explore her options at breakfast. It was high time she acted on this.

*~*~*

Breakfast had fewer people than it had probably ever had before. Arthur and Molly Weasley were already seated on one side of the table and Remus on the other when Tonks walked in. Molly essentially forced everyone in the Order to have a spare change or two of clothes at the headquarters itself, simply by means of browbeating them into it. Tonks had never seen the point before now, and she walked into the kitchen in black Muggle jeans, white socks, and a gray-and-burgundy baseball tee. Remus was slightly surprised to notice that she hadn't changed her appearance very far beyond her clothing: her hair was the same as it had been last night but she'd changed the gray to its original color. She had fleshed out her cheeks as well, but left the rest of her face to its own devices. The faint worry lines remained and sleep had removed most of the purple from beneath her eyes, which Remus noticed were the same gray as Sirius' but without the fathomless, empty quality Sirius' eyes had after Azkaban. She gave Remus a small smile as she sat beside him, then acknowledged the other two people at the table with slight nods.

"Good morning, Tonks," both Weasleys chorused in unison, then after an exchanged glance Molly continued solo. "Remus said you were here. How're you feeling?"

"Much better, thank you." Tonks smiled humbly back. "I didn't mean to sneak in, but I was just too tired to let anyone know I was here."

"It's all right, dear. You're welcome any time, especially if you're exhausted like that." Molly's voice and expression rang with concern for Tonks' well-being.

"Eh. I've recovered, it's okay." She puffed her chest out. "I'm a tough sort of girl." Unless she was going crazy, she heard a slight laugh from Remus. She loved it when her opportunities to play with him came up early. She feigned being taken aback, turning to face him. "Is that a challenge I hear?"

"Perhaps." He was still bland for the moment, but she could wait. "You were the one who came here to sleep and then wasn't brave enough to battle afghans."

"Hey." She glared at him playfully, brandishing the egg spoon, and he smirked back. "Those things are vicious."

"Oh, yes. Kill a man just by looking at him. I quake at the very thought of what may have happened to you were it not for your excellent judgment."

Tonks nodded pointedly, as though she had won. "That's right. Fortunately for the afghans, they had the wisdom to leave me be." He just shook his head, laughing softly.

"Before you two go too far into your own world," Arthur interrupted, "Molly and I have a mission to go on. Make sure you clean up the dishes when you're done."

"Alright, she will," Remus said at the same time Tonks was saying, "Alright, he will." They exchanged a glance before bursting out laughing. Arthur and Molly exchanged meaningful looks as well and left the other two to their own devices.

"Maybe today," Molly said when they were out of earshot, "All that flirting they do will amount to something."

"That'd make life easier," Arthur responded with a grin, "So I doubt it."

As the laughter in the kitchen died down, Remus considered Tonks more carefully. "Why'd you change back?"

"How do you mean?"

"Well, your hair for one, and your face. You didn't change much back, but you did change. Just enough to notice." Tonks gave him an almost sad half-smile.

"It was mostly for Molly's sake. If I came in here and said all this work was making me go gray," she let her hair go back to its natural state, "and that I was withering away," the sunken quality came back as well, "she would have a fit, worry for no good reason, and try to feed me every bit of food in this kitchen." She had made her point, but she left her features the way they were, just because he had noticed them.

"True, true," he nodded, "but I like to see the real you, without your masks, and your health is a good reason to worry." He laid a hand on her arm and looked her in the eye. "It shows that people care about you." Their eyes stayed locked for a long time, until he removed his hand and she saw the darkness begin to come over his face. She decided to do something to fight it back and went with the first idea that came to mind.

"What about your masks?" The darkness lifted a little, so she continued. "You try to make yourself invisible, to not draw attention to yourself. Why?"

He shrugged, and looked very intently at the table. "I don't want people getting close to me. Something always happens to me or them, or they find out that they're against werewolves, or they decide they're not and get too close to the werewolf..." he trailed off, thinking about everything that had gone wrong in his past relationships and his nightmares.

"Have you ever noticed how you always talk about the werewolf like it's a separate person all together?" He blinked at her, drawn suddenly out of his thoughts and uncertain of where this was going. He nodded eventually, and she continued. "That's a sign that it is a separate person. It's not you, and it doesn't affect people's view of you, if the person is even worth the effort of being around them. Regardless of what you are, people will love you all the same." He had looked away again by this point, but she made him look at her before she continued. "And you know they will. You have proof of it in the people who already love you, like Arthur, Molly, the teenagers, me--"

"All right," he interrupted, "so there are people who love me as a friend or as a son or father figure. But, Tonks, what about everything else? I don't want to be a bachelor my whole life." He didn't realize his slip until she grinned at him.

"You just said that you did. Something about things happening with the werewolf?"

"I--well--" He sighed, admitting defeat. She's done it, he thought. She's broken through. Damn it all. "Before the Wolfsbane Potion was developed, I would have said that I was better off alone, but now... Now I don't have to be and I don't want to be."

"You won't be." She stated simply with a strange look on her face.

"Why not?" If she was inside his barriers, why not explore her thoughts? "There isn't a single quality in my favor that isn't cancelled out by something negative."

"Oh, please." Tonks couldn't help but roll her eyes at him. "I could name off more positive things than you could negative, I'm sure."

"All right," his posture changed to something straighter, more serious, "We'll alternate, and see which one of us runs out of things to say first." He wasn't vying for her attention or her compliments. Really he wasn't.

"All right." Her posture changed to mirror his. "You're loyal."

"Werewolf," he stated levelly.

"Honest."

"Werewolf."

"Oh, come on, you can't use the same thing twice," she objected, her serious posture disintegrating into something closer to a three-year-old.

"That's bad enough to count as two!"

"Is not."

"Is so."

"Is not."

"Is so."

"Is - Fine," Tonks surrendered with a playful sigh. This could go on forever. "You've got determination."

"I'm stubborn," he corrected with a smile.

"You're smart."

"I'm old." She barely resisted the temptation to roll her eyes again, he could tell.

"Handsome."

"Covered in scars." She tilted her head at him, appraising the validity of this last statement.

"I've only ever seen the ones on your face and arms."

"Well," he muttered, slightly unnerved by the intensity of her stare, "They're there, and worse in the places you haven't seen. Hence why you haven't seen them," he added.

"Hmm." Her head remained tilted for a long moment as she scanned his face and body. About when he began to wonder what she thought was so interesting and he was beginning to feel a little hot around his collar, she straightened her neck and posture. "Anyway, back to our game?"

Remus shrugged. "If you have any more."

"You're sweet," she smiled without a moment's delay. Sweet? He made a skeptical face at her. "You know, kind," she explained in an exasperated tone, "To me, to Molly, to the teenagers, but mainly to the girls."

"Thus far you have described a dog." He grinned at the shocked face she made.

"I have not!" She sounded scandalized though she grinned a bit in spite of herself. Remus was starting to understand why Ron enjoyed riling Hermione up so much. There was something strangely attractive about it.

"Except for smart, yes you have." He smiled at her and her reactions, but that must have triggered a completely different thought in her head, as her watched her expression shift to something closer to seductive. Or at least, he hoped it was seductive.

"All right, then." Her voice had lowered, and his temperature rose a few degrees at the rumbling sound of it. Yes. Definitely seductive. "I have one that would apply to no dog."

"What?" He gave her a wary look, but that didn't defer her at all.

"You're absolutely adorable when you let your guard down and get completely absorbed by something as simple as a book." She smirked at him, regaining a little of her usual tone, but that didn't help the mild shock that hit him.

"When did..." He trailed off, looking into her eyes and remembering the events of the previous night. Oh, Merlin, no.

"Last night, after you gave me those blankets." No... No... Please, no... "When I woke up, you were so far gone that you didn't notice." Remus started breathing again. Thank Merlin, she didn't know about his touching her face. "It was cute," she grinned. They looked into each other's eyes for a moment before both turned away, blushing in unison.

Tonks' voice was as soft as the hand that drifted to cover his, and both sent pleasant shivers down his spine. "Now... Do you need to hear any more of the reasons why I love you?"

Damn his insecurities. "Friend love, or romantic love?" He had to be sure. Many nightmares and relationships-gone-wrong had taught him a few lessons.

"Remus." There was a sort of patient impatience in her voice, somewhat like the tone someone takes on when reassuring a curious child that the man in the red suit was really Santa and they should not tug his beard to be sure. He looked up at her to see a similar expression drawn on her face, but he only saw it for the few moments before her lips brushed his(and her nose only slightly bumped into his).

It was like something had exploded inside him, some intense joy he hadn't felt for years. He'd tugged on that silly beard anyway, and it had been attached. That was the real Santa. He wasn't able to return the kiss before she pulled away, looking into his eyes and grinning. "Which do you think?"

He returned the grin and pulled her toward him for another, deeper kiss. Happy Christmas, and God Bless Us Everyone.

*-*-*

"You can pay me that galleon any time, Kingsley." George Weasley, watching as stealthily as he could from outside the kitchen door grinned at Kingsley Shacklebolt in triumph.

"Oh, shut up you." Kingsley glared at the couple in the kitchen. "You just couldn't hold out another week, could you?"

"You're not the only one losing money on this. As I understand it, Gin had a bet going on with Hermione, mum and dad had one going on, I think Fred talked Mundungus into making a wager..." George's voice faded out of hearing, still listing pairs with running wagers, as he and Kingsley walked away to leave Tonks and Remus alone together. And to their own devices.