Every Second of My Life

I saw her at the first meeting of the re-organized Order of the Phoenix. We all descended on Arthur and Molly’s, as Sirius hadn’t figured out that he could enter his abandoned family home as of yet.

It was the night after Harry had returned from the Triwizard maze, bringing news of Voldemort’s return. Of course, as trustworthy and honest as Harry is, we were greeted that night with Severus Snape’s account of meeting a Voldemort who was very much alive and very much in control of his facilities.

That was the only time, since we were in school and very young, that I’d seen Severus show any emotion other than anger, as he shuddered convulsively from the after-effects of the Cruciatus curse he’d been privy to as punishment, I assumed, for being late to his old master’s side.

We stuffed into the Weasley’s small and friendly sitting room, about twenty of us, and we listened to Dumbledore recount what Harry had told him, word for word, it seemed. Horrified, struck dumb, staring open-mouthed. And I noticed Nymphadora Tonks standing there, next to Mad-Eye. Her hair came to her waist, and it was blue.

I immediately felt an intense surge of guilt for checking her out during such a solemn and terrible moment.

Oh, if only the guilt ended there.

I put her out of my mind until the next meeting. Sirius and I had visited his Grimmauld Place on the theory that, if he could access his family’s Gringotts account, he could enter his old house.

It worked, of course, and that night, like some sort of bizarre, extremely depressing party, the Order started to show up. Molly made hors d’ oeuvres. We discussed the dark magic used on Harry. It was all rather surreal.

Then, it was made worse when a mysterious blonde girl tripped down the stairs from the loo and woke Sirius’ mother up. While Sirius dealt with the portrait, I helped the poor girl up, and was greeted with startlingly black eyes.

“Oh…goodness…” the girl said, brushing herself off, as the house was still quite dusty, “I’m so sorry! The carpet is snagged a bit, here on the bottom step…and I’m dead clumsy, you see…” she looked at me, stuttered, and actually blushed, an effect I’d never had on a woman.

I wondered briefly if there was something embarrassing written on my face, before Sirius came over and threw an arm around the girl.

“Remus! I see you’ve met my little cousin, Nymphadora Tonks.”
“Cousin? Really?” I said, trying to cover up my own embarrassment by shaking her hand.

“Yeah, daughter of my…aunt…no, wait…Andromeda was my cousin…yeah, you’re my second cousin, Tonks, sorry.” Sirius was saying, “Haven’t seen her since she was about four or five, right before I went to prison?”

Tonks blushed still further and mumbled some sort of assent. I was overcome with another bit of guilt for being attracted to someone fifteen years younger than I was. Sirius was laughing like his best friend wasn’t in some sort of agony.

Something clicked in my mind. “Ah,” I said, “You’re the girl with blue hair from the last meeting.”

Glad, I suppose, to have something solid to talk about, Tonks replied, “Yeah…I’m a Metamorphmagus…it comes in handy for work…and blending in at Muggle rock concerts…”

My experience with contemporary Muggle music consisted entirely of the Beatles, who were popular everywhere, of course. But I laughed anyway, and it came out somewhat higher-pitched than usual.

Luckily, Severus chose that moment to knock on the door and sweep scowlingly into the hall, so Tonks was saved the horror that is Remus Lupin Trying to Be Charming to the Ladies.

In hindsight, perhaps if I’d tried to impress her then, I’d have scared her off to go sit next to Mad-Eye again, wondering who that creepy old man was with the bad clothes.

Retrospect.

Alas.

As it was, we all trundled down to the kitchen to begin the meeting, and Tonks sat next to me. In the corner. Next to the oven.

So she took her cloak off.

I began to sweat more than was strictly necessary.

We must have discussed something prophecy-related, but I couldn’t tell you a word of that meeting to save my life.

I could see the outline of her tits. That was closer than I’d been to tits in about two years longer than I would have preferred. And there she was, in a tight black Muggle t-shirt, making quite intelligent comments on whatever subject those normal people were discussing, and I was extremely appalled at myself.
And it continued like that.

For months. Months and months.

I tried shutting her out of my mind, but it was useless. Sirius kept commenting on it, how much she flirted with me, but I had never been one to notice things like that, and I must have been completely clueless from the very beginning that the attraction was mutual.

And then it happened. It was around mid-March, and the Order meeting had ended early.

Things were going well, on the whole, around that time. We’d continued to guard the Hall of Prophecy with few setbacks since Arthur was attacked, and we’d added a few more members to our ranks. Even considering that Dumbledore was officially an outlaw from the Ministry, he still showed up to every meeting, deaf to our queries as to where he was staying and even much of what he was doing.

Most of the members left as soon as we’d adjourned, but many stayed for dinner, mostly the old crowd.

Soon, though, I looked around and found myself alone. Arthur and Molly had turned in, and Sirius had muttered something about how much fiber there was in Molly’s cooking, promising to return in “God knows how long, but I know I’ll have something alcoholic with me.”

Tonks had just come back down after depositing Mundungus on the front step, as he’d gotten drunk quite early and gotten sick in the pantry.

She’d been about to leave, but had left her cloak in the kitchen. I stared at it, hoping it was a warm night, hoping she’d come by and get it later.

But she didn’t. She stumbled down the stairs, picked herself up, and blushed, looking at me.

“I…erm…forgot my cloak…” she said.

The British-raised fool in me stood up quickly, picking up her cloak and holding it out for her to put on. She complied, hesitantly.

I found that I could smell her, and that it was a mind-numbing scent of lavender.

She smiled up at me.

“Thanks, Remus,” she said, and hesitated just a moment before pushing on into my worst nightmare, “I was wondering…your birthday was last week, right?”

“Er…yes…” I said, confused.
“Well, I know…it was a full moon during that time…so you didn’t really…get to celebrate or anything…”

That was not strictly true, as I’d gotten drunker than was healthy I’d gone back to being human.

“So…” she was continuing, “I was just wondering… if perhaps you’d like to go out this Friday, maybe get something to eat…or something.”

It probably wasn’t the smoothest way to ask someone out, but as a man who’d never been asked on a date himself, and done very little asking anyway, it sounded like poetry.

Unfortunately, it hit me like a sack of bricks in the stomach. I’d never dreamed that she’d fall for me, I’d made no secret to the Order of my being a werewolf, and it was common knowledge, just by looking at the state of my robes, that I was quite poor.

I’ve never been much of a looker, and we’ve established that I’ve got as much charisma as a flobberworm.

So it was out of fear that first time, more than anything, I think, that led me to tell that poor girl that I couldn’t.

Tonks looked a bit taken aback. She blinked her eyes, which had gone from violet to brown very quickly. She said something awkward like, “Oh, perhaps next week,” and “W-wotcher, Remus,” before practically running up the kitchen stairs.

I stood there, letting it sink in, and with the timing of gods as usual, Sirius came down with an already opened flask in hand.

“What was that about?” he asked.

“W…what?”

“Tonks…she looked pretty upset about something when she was leaving…”

“Ah.” I said, sitting back down heavily.

“Bloody hell, Remus, she didn’t…”

“Yes…”

“And you didn’t…”

“…”

“Bloody fuck, Remus!”
And I was forced to listen to his increasingly drunken prattle about how much of an idiot I was.

As though I didn’t already know.