Remus Lupin had always been a man of few words, being a werewolf could do that to a wizard. For years he had lived in relative seclusion, hardly ever venturing out into society. Then again, almost every time he did, those that knew what he was stayed as far away from him as possible, and those that did speak to him only wanted to talk about what had happened to his friends. It seemed to be all the more reason for Remus to keep to himself.

That was why Nymphadora Tonks meant so much to him.

Remus had just left his teaching position at Hogwarts when he met Nymphadora. He had been waiting for Kingsley Shacklebolt to discuss building the ranks of the Order of the Phoenix. When Kingsley had finally arrived, the pink-haired Auror had been tagging along with him. Remus would never forget his first memory of her, she’d been trying to keep up with Kingsley when she tripped on one of the cobbles in the street and landed in a heap. Remus’ first instinct was to make sure she was okay, but the booming laugh coming from Kingsley had unnerved him.

“Don’t worry about her, mate. If an hour goes by where she doesn’t fall, stumble, or break something, then you should worry,” Kingsley said as he walked into the pub, shaking his head.

Remus had walked over to where Nymphadora was still sprawled in the street and looked down at her. Finally, he extended a hand to help her up.

“I apologize for Kingsley not introducing me. I’m Remus Lupin.”

“Nymphadora Tonks, but please, I prefer just Tonks” she’d said, as she struggled to her feet. “That oaf just leaves me where I’ve fallen. I guess he thinks I’ll never get hurt.”

Nymphadora had soon joined the Order. Remus had always assumed that she had her own reasons for wanting to see Voldemort defeated, but he had never asked her. He was just grateful that she never asked him about his friends, or his “condition.” They formed the easy relationship of colleagues at first, both working towards a common goal. Remus soon found that Nymphadora was quite the strategist. He was starting to see why she’d become an Auror, all clumsiness aside.

After many long hours plotting and training for the Order, they had become friends. Nymphadora was always good for a laugh, either by her sheer clumsiness or some off-color joke she’d picked up somewhere. Remus had come to appreciate that quality in her, especially when the hours were too long and the plotting too taxing. One moment always stuck out in his mind. They’d all had a long night at Grimmauld Place, discussing Voldemort’s latest movements and how to keep Sirius safe. He and Nymphadora had been at the kitchen table relaxing with a cup of tea when the handle had snapped off her cup. She’d tried to catch the cup before it fell and just ended up on the floor right along with it.

Remus had leaned over the table to make sure she was all right but when he saw how she had landed he couldn’t help but laugh. She was sitting in a puddle of tea and the cup had somehow settled upside down on her head.

“I’m glad you think you know me well enough to laugh at me,” she’d said, the twinkle in her eyes not matching the ire she’d tried to force into her words.

Remus had moved around the table, once more extending a hand to help her up. “Not laughing at you, laughing with you Nymphadora.”

“You know how I feel about that name.”

“Yes, I do, but it seems such a shame not to use it.”

That was the first time he’d seen her really smile, a full force beam that had been just for him. It was that moment that he realized just how much danger he was in. With the way their world was, with the way he was, he just couldn’t afford to get involved that way. Besides, Nymphadora Tonks deserved every happiness that could be given to her and he knew that he could never be the man for her. As sure as he was that he cared for her, he was equally sure that she could never know. It was the only way he could think of to keep her alive.

Over the next few months he subtly started keeping his distance. He really should have known better, Nymphadora was smart enough to realize what he was doing. She’d cornered him one night, after the meeting where Dumbledore had asked him to live among the werewolves in order to sway a few of them to their cause. The force or her outburst had shocked him, he had no idea she felt this strongly about him. He was worried she’d blow out the windows in the parlor before she was done.

“How could you?” she’d nearly whispered. By this time she had yelled herself hoarse. He’d told her that she couldn’t love him, he was too poor, too old, and a werewolf to boot. She couldn’t understand how he felt that way, to her he was a hero.

“How could you?” she’d whispered again.

“I have to, that is something you should understand.” He couldn’t even look at her. Just knowing that her normally happy face was covered in tears was too much. She’d turned her back on him then.

“Don’t you understand? I love you, Remus. I don’t care if I shouldn’t. I love you and there is no way you running away to live with the other werewolves is going to change that. I’ll worry for you everyday and I’ll be waiting every time you come back. You say you don’t love me, but I know the truth!”

“I don’t love you Nymphadora! For once I wish you would understand that!” he’d exploded at her. He cursed himself the moment the words were out of his mouth but there was no taking them back. He’d had to leave; there hadn’t been time to lose before the next full moon.

While he was away with the werewolves he thought of her often, much more than he would have liked to admit. There were times that he wished to be near her, to have her swear as she knocked something over and blush madly. Other times he wished he could let her know that he was well, but owls were dangerous to send. In all seriousness, it was these moments of weakness that scared him the most. They meant that she meant more to him than even he had realized.

He saw her occasionally on those few instances that he had made it to an Order meeting. It nearly killed him to find her hair mousy brown instead of its usual vibrant pink. He hated to see her so desperately unhappy and know that he was the cause. The others had noticed as well and he wondered if they knew exactly what had happened. The looks Molly Weasley kept giving him made him pretty sure that she did at least.

Then that fateful night had overtaken them all. Remus could barely remember any of it, it had all happened so fast. Once he had gotten word of what was happening, instinct took over and he was at Hogwarts in minutes. It was only as he stood in the hospital wing with Nymphadora by his side that the adrenalin wore off and he realized how very tired he was. Dumbledore was dead and they had been betrayed by Snape. Bill Weasley had been attacked by Greyback in his human form and no one really knew what the consequences would be. Remus had wanted nothing more than to sink into a chair and close his eyes to hide the horror. It was then that Nymphadora had started in on him.

“You see!” she had said, glaring at him for all she was worth. “She still wants to marry him, even though he’s been bitten! She doesn’t care!”

He hadn’t known what to say at first. An angry Nymphadora Tonks was a sight to behold.

He tried to tell her that what had happened to Bill was different and she had responded by nearly shaking the daylights out of him. Then Arthur had Molly had started in on it, and worse yet, Minerva. Didn’t anyone understand that she deserved better? Didn’t anyone understand that she deserved someone whole, someone who could give her everything?

What Arthur had said next nearly broke him. “But she wants you, and after all, Remus, young and whole men do not necessarily remain so.”

~ * ~

Remus Lupin rolled over and gazed at the sleeping form of the witch next to him. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe that Nymphadora was still with him, he had thought that she would have left long ago. Still, she was here by his side, his rock and his salvation if he was honest with himself. He couldn’t even begin to think of what he would do without her.

By some grace they had both survived the war, not completely unscathed. Lupin had been attacked by the same werewolves that he had been communing with on Dumbledore’s orders. He had nearly died but Nymphadora had stubbornly refused to let him go. He had recovered enough to fight alongside her at the final battle. She’d been badly hexed while his back was turned and it had been Remus’ turn to fight for her.

The years after the war had been kind to them. Nymphadora still worked as an Auror, though the work was admittedly less dangerous without the likes of Voldemort causing problems. It was almost too quiet for her and she said so often, but she loved her work and could not bring herself to leave. Remus worked for the Ministry as well, as a liaison between the Ministry and the werewolves. Though Remus had more or less been accepted by the Wizarding public, the rest of the werewolves still lived in exile. Remus was trying to remedy that situation.

Best of all were the moments they had together. Remus had never thought that he could be this happy; he never thought he deserved it. Nymphadora had shown him that love could heal more thoroughly than any spell, and that acceptance was a balm to the soul. In return, Remus showed Nymphadora a devotion that was rarely seen. She never wanted for anything; though Remus felt that he could give her everything in the world and it would never match all that she had given him.

She had also given him the two things he cherished most in this world, their children. He was constantly in awe of her for this, that this woman would give him such a gift. She always insisted that he did play a part in producing them and joked that she would have let him have them if it were possible. Remus always smiled at this, not because of the words, but because of the way she blushed when she said them.

Remus was reminiscing about the better years when Nymphadora gave a start and rolled over, landing on the floor with a thud. She was as clumsy as ever and Remus had to stifle a laugh as he leaned to peek over the edge of the bed. A dark eye met his through a curtain of pink hair and he heard a soft snort.

“Are you going to help me up or are you just going to stare at me all night?”