To qualify for Auror training requires N.E.W.T.s in several subjects – and one of them is Potions. If Tonks thinks it through, she might realize that she can do a very important favour for someone she cares a great deal about.

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. * . * .

1. Brewing Lessons

Horace Slughorn selected another piece of crystallized pineapple and popped it into his mouth before turning back to the letter he had just opened. Written with bright purple ink, in handwriting that was more enthusiastic than elegant, it contained a rather unusual request.

Dear Professor Slughorn,

I am a former Hogwarts student who would like to learn to brew a potion that is said to be quite difficult. May I consult with you about it? I am available evenings and weekends and will visit your office at your convenience.

Sincerely,

Nymphadora Tonks

Chewing slowly, he tried to match a face to the name, but couldn't; his correspondent must have come through school while Snape was Potions master. Could be that Tonks boy's daughter, he mused. Didn't he marry Andromeda Black?

Slughorn wasn't sure he wanted to bother with teaching a difficult potion to an unknown witch, but after so many years spent piecing together networks of useful contacts, that part of his mind was already scheming. Who was this person, and what did she want to brew, and why? Might as well let her come and talk to me – it'll be a bit of entertainment. I can always decline to help once I find out what she wants. He scrawled an invitation on a fancy piece of parchment bearing his monogram, and the waiting owl carried it off into the night.

. * . * .

The next evening found Tonks striding up through the Hogwarts grounds to the castle, chin held high. I'm not nervous. I'm not. Surely I can talk him into helping me. She had taken pains to look something approaching conventional: a solid, upstanding citizen with only the most noble of motives. Her hair was still short and spiky, but it was black instead of turquoise or shocking pink, and she was dressed rather like a staid Ministry bureaucrat.

Following Slughorn's directions, she navigated the castle's stairways and corridors until she arrived at his office.

He opened the door as soon as she knocked. "Miss Tonks. So delighted to meet you. Please come in." He showed her to a very soft armchair and settled himself into an even softer one. The office was large, but it was cramped with overstuffed furniture and strewn about with knickknacks. Slughorn even had a roaring fire going – in July. Tonks found the whole atmosphere rather oppressive.

"Thank you for agreeing to see me, Professor," she began politely, perching gingerly on the edge of the armchair to keep it from engulfing her.

"You're most welcome, my dear. Now, let me see...Tonks is not a very common name. Are you Ted and Andromeda's daughter, perhaps?" She nodded, surprised, and he smiled smugly, pleased that his guess had been correct. "Aha – that makes you a descendant of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."

Tonks tried not to frown. "Not in any relevant sense, really. The family disowned my mother for marrying my father, so they'll never acknowledge me." And I'm not exactly sorry, since they've always been a pack of Dark-Arts loving, prejudiced purebloods – the ones that aren't outright Death Eaters.

"A pity." Slughorn shook his head. "Being a Black can open a lot of doors in wizarding society, you know." His visitor's ill-concealed expression of distaste at those words piqued his curiosity again, but he filed away the information for future analysis and smoothly changed the subject. "So, I understand you're interested in brewing a difficult potion. Which one is it?"

Tonks nodded again, keeping her eyes wide and innocent and her tone casual. "Yes, Professor. I'd like to learn to brew Wolfsbane."

This was not at all an answer that Slughorn was expecting.

He stared at her for a moment, his florid jocularity rapidly fading. When he spoke, his tone was guarded. "That is a difficult potion, Miss Tonks. Not everyone would have the skill to learn to brew it."

"I have a N.E.W.T. in Potions," she replied, attempting an ingratiating smile (not generally one of her strong points). "I'm sure I could do it, if you helped me practice."

"N.E.W.T. level, eh? Hmmph." Slughorn was still eyeing her shrewdly. "But it's not only that the potion is difficult to brew, you see. There are security concerns."

"Security concerns?" It was a close call, but Tonks managed not to roll her eyes. Of course there were security concerns. Anyone with half an ounce of common sense could see that. A potion that allowed werewolves to keep their own, human minds during the full moon would prevent a well-meaning werewolf from hurting anyone, but the opportunities it would create for a werewolf who wanted to attack people, someone like Fenrir Greyback, were too horrible to contemplate. And she would only be able to get what she needed from Slughorn if he didn't think she was contemplating those opportunities. She held the old teacher's gaze and tried to look both meek and persuasive – and certainly not desperate, for heaven's sake.

"Who is the potion for?" Slughorn glanced out the window at the full moon, just visible through a gap between the clouds above the Forbidden Forest. "Not you, obviously, as you're here now."

"A friend," said Tonks firmly. I'll do whatever else it takes, but you're not getting his name out of me. Especially if you're the sort that thinks being a Black is a good way to get ahead in life. She shivered in spite of herself, her thoughts straying to a shabby basement flat and a wolf, trapped, howling and thrashing in self-destructive rage. "Someone whose health I'm concerned about."

Slughorn frowned, absently smoothing his sleek moustache. This Miss Tonks was obviously putting on an act to try to get around him, but there was a certain honest pleading, just discernable behind the false saintliness, that made him feel...sympathetic?

Finally he sighed, shaking his head; perhaps he was remembering a certain careless disclosure of sensitive information in his past, one with deadly and ongoing consequences. "If I don't know who the potion is for, and why you want it, I'm afraid I can't help you. In dangerous times like these, we must be very careful about security."

Tonks's bitter disappointment was entirely unfeigned. Grasping at straws, she blurted, "But I'm not a security risk – I work at the Ministry!"

Slughorn smiled blandly. "Unfortunately, as the Headmistress so often reminds us, that's not necessarily an adequate credential these days."

Tonks blinked. The Headmistress...McGonagall! Of course! Cursing herself for not thinking of this before, she pasted her innocent expression back on. "Professor – would you just talk to the Headmistress before you make up your mind? She might be willing to vouch for me."

Slughorn knew that the sensible thing to do was to send his visitor on her way. But this whole situation was so very interesting! Why was a nice young witch like this concerned about werewolves? And why was she so emotional about it?

. * . * .

Minerva McGonagall looked up from her desk at the knock on the door. "Come in."

"Good evening, Minerva. May I have a moment?"

Slughorn was flushed and a little out of breath, as though he'd been hurrying. McGonagall wondered what could possibly be important enough make him expend actual effort. "Certainly, Horace."

He sat, mopping his brow with a flowery silk handkerchief. "It's most intriguing. A young witch has come to see me. Wants to learn to make a potion. But it's a sensitive situation – security risk, don't you know. I was hoping you could tell me a little more about her."

"Who is it?" asked McGonagall sharply, reflexively wary.

"A young woman named Nymphadora Tonks."

"Ah." McGonagall's face cleared. "I know Miss Tonks quite well. In fact, I've been in touch with her often these last few years."

"I see." Slughorn, reading between the lines, took that to mean that his visitor was a member of poor old Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix. As far as anyone knew, Dumbledore had only been hoodwinked by two members of the Order in twenty years. Those were fairly good odds...

McGonagall allowed herself a small smile. "I suppose the potion in question is Wolfsbane?"

Slughorn stared. "How on earth did you know that?"

"Rumour has it," she said delicately, "that Miss Tonks has recently begun a romantic relationship with Remus Lupin."

"Oho!" Slughorn beamed. Expending effort had paid off. Now he understood the reason behind the young woman's anxious stubbornness. "I remember Lupin. Quiet boy. Nothing particularly interesting about him – apart from his condition, of course."

McGonagall frowned a bit primly at her Potions master. She didn't necessarily agree with Slughorn's views on what kinds of people were interesting. "In any case, he's absolutely trustworthy. They both are."

Slughorn nodded thoughtfully and heaved himself out of his chair. "Thank you, Minerva."

She watched him leave, hoping Tonks would be able to persuade him to help her. Goodness knows Remus deserves it.

. * . * .

Slughorn strolled slowly back through the corridors toward his office, sorting and filing his new information. So crafty Miss Tonks was a member of the Order of the Phoenix. That would certainly explain her attitude toward the Black family. Lupin was probably in the Order as well – he had been the last time around. If I help with the Wolfsbane, I'll collect two Order members who owe me favours. Might be useful if I get into a tight spot.

He made his way carefully down a broad staircase, considering which of the many ingredients required to brew Wolfsbane were difficult to prepare. I wonder if she's as good at Potions as she says she is. As much as he had looked forward all year to a summer of leisure, he had to admit it would be interesting to have a bit of a mental challenge from time to time during the holidays.

And somewhere, in the depths of his mind, shone a faint, distant memory of how it felt to be young and in love. Not that that has anything to do with this, of course. Slughorn reminded himself firmly that he was much too practical to base his decisions on such sentimental nonsense. Hmmph.

. * . * .

Come on, McGonagall, come on – tell him I'm all right. Tonks was standing as far from the well-stoked fire as she could get, idly reading the titles on one of Slughorn's bookshelves. He'd been gone longer than she'd expected, and patience wasn't one of her strong points either. Please.

The clouds shifted. Cold light poured across the floor. Tonks turned toward the window to scowl at the bright, pitiless moon. "I'll get this, Remus," she whispered. "I promise. If Slughorn won't help me, maybe someone at St. Mungo's will." She clenched her fists and tried not to worry about what he must be going through. Eleven hours to moonset.

Heavy footsteps sounded in the corridor. Tonks spun around to face the door, her heart pounding. Slughorn swept into the office and paused dramatically, letting the tension build. Then he winked. "So it's for Remus Lupin, is it?"

Tonks bristled. "I was attempting to respect his privacy."

Slughorn chuckled at her protectiveness, waving a hand expansively. "He was a student of mine, you know. All of us on staff were aware of his condition."

Her eyes widened. "Then – if you know Remus, surely –"

Relenting, he ended the suspense. "The headmistress has indeed approved your request, so I suppose there's no reason why I shouldn't help you with this."

Tonks drew a deep breath and closed her eyes briefly. "Thank you." Abandoning her strained attempt at an angelic persona, she gave her new mentor a real grin.

Slughorn rubbed his hands together in anticipation of the intellectual and practical challenges ahead. "All right, then, let's go down to the Potions classroom and see what we can do."

. * . * .

. * . * .

2. A Potion and a Promise

The clock on the mantel chimed, startling Tonks, who dropped the book she'd been trying to make herself read. Seven o'clock! He'll be here any minute.

She gave up pretending to wait patiently and put the book away. Pacing around her small cluttered kitchen, she kept glancing at a tightly covered cauldron that sat on the counter. Finally, unable to resist, she went over and pried off the lid, wrinkling her nose at the unpleasant odour that wafted out. At least the potion was perfect – "as it ruddy well ought to be," she muttered, "since I've spent three weeks learning how to brew it." But that didn't solve her new problem: how to tell Remus Lupin what she'd done. Will he be offended? Embarrassed? This is awfully personal territory I'm treading on. He was opening up to her more and more these days, but their new closeness was still a little fragile sometimes.

The sound of a soft knock made her jump again and quickly snap the cover back onto the cauldron. The door opened and Lupin appeared, beaming from behind a large paper sack that smelled tantalizingly of curry. "I know I said I'd come over and make supper tonight, but here's some take-away instead! It's from that little place you like, near the Ministry."

He looked so pleased with his surprise treat that Tonks didn't have the heart to protest. Her concern must have shown on her face, though, because he gave her a slightly sheepish grin. "It's all right. I've just finished a research assignment for the Wizengamot, and I got paid for it today. So I can afford a little celebration, for once." He put the sack down on the table and started lifting out steaming cartons of curry and rice. "It smelled so good all the way over here. Let's eat!"

"Er – actually – can I have a word with you about something first?" Her voice wasn't entirely steady.

"Of course." Lupin turned, giving her his full attention. "What is it?"

Tonks cleared her throat and tried again. She would have preferred to put this conversation off a bit longer, especially since he was in such a lighthearted mood, but the potion had to be taken on an empty stomach. Go on, get it over with. "I – oh, bother – there's something I need to tell you, but I'm not sure how to put it."

The flicker of panic in his eyes was gone in an instant. If she hadn't been looking right at him, she would have missed it. Then his expression went completely neutral, perfectly calm, revealing nothing. His defences were back up – those walls of self-protection that she'd worked so hard to break through.

Her insides froze when she realized what he thought she was trying to say.

"Hold on a minute." She grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed him very deliberately. After a few seconds, his stiff posture relaxed a little and he returned the kiss thoroughly, if unsteadily. When they finally came up for air, Tonks gave him a gentle shake. "Will you stop expecting the worst all the time? I am not trying to give you the heave-ho. I'm just embarrassed, all right? There's something I've done – and I probably should've asked you, but I really couldn't – and I had to do it –" She trailed off, realizing that she wasn't making sense.

His eyes met hers, a bit uncertainly, but the walls were gone. He nodded and waited for her to go on.

"Come on, let's sit down," Tonks said with a small sigh. They settled into their usual places at the little round table.

"I know how important privacy is to you," she began yet again. He started to protest, but she put her hand over his where it rested on the bright red tablecloth. "No, it is, and you've let me into your life all the same. I would hate to violate that trust by intruding, by getting involved in...things...that you'd rather keep to yourself." She swallowed, and flushed almost as pink as her hair. "But what I hate even more is thinking about all you have to go through, and not being able to do anything to help."

Now Lupin was slightly pink too. "You do help," he said. "It helps a lot, spending time with you, knowing that you're looking out for me."

Tonks shook her head. "That's not enough." She squared her shoulders. "You know I've been up to Hogwarts a few times recently. I let you think it was for Auror duty, but it wasn't – I've been meeting with Slughorn. I didn't want to tell you, though, not until I was sure it would work."

His face showed dawning comprehension, so she plunged hurriedly on. "I hope you don't mind too much that I went ahead and did this without asking you first, but Slughorn's taught me how to brew Wolfsbane, and I've made enough for you to take every night this week. If you want to, I mean."

He had gone pale, and he was gripping her hand very tightly. "You've made Wolfsbane? For me?"

She nodded and smiled tentatively. She couldn't quite read his expression, but at least he didn't seem to be offended.

"It's supposed to be difficult to brew." His voice was low, and a little hoarse.

"A bit, yes. Slughorn went over all the steps with me first, and we made a couple of practice batches together. Then I made this batch by myself, but he watched everything I did and he assures me it's all right."

"Your potions skills are clearly far beyond mine." Lupin, smiling now, squeezed her hand gently and leaned over to give her a quick kiss. "Please believe me when I tell you how much I appreciate all the effort you've put into this." He sighed, and the smile faded. "The problem is, when you go off Wolfsbane, there's a sort of withdrawal effect – the next couple of months are actually more difficult than usual. So even though it would help me this month, I'd probably better not take it, or I'll be worse off next time."

Tonks frowned at him. "I'm not just talking about this month. I'll brew it every month. Slughorn says he's willing to supervise until I can do it safely on my own."

"Every month...?" There was still something in his expression that she couldn't interpret. He shook his head slowly, regretfully. "That just isn't possible."

"Why not?"

Lupin suddenly looked very tired. "It's too expensive. There's no way I can afford the ingredients every month. You know I've got to be careful – you didn't even like my buying the take-away curry tonight."

"Remus, don't be an idiot!" She suppressed the urge to shake him again. "I'll be the one buying any potion ingredients."

"No, you most certainly will not. You don't need to be wasting your hard-earned salary on me. I'm used to the transformations, after all. I've been managing for years." His jaw was set, his shoulders tense.

"Wasting my –?" Tonks stopped and made herself soften her tone. "Honestly, what could possibly be a better use of my so-called hard-earned salary, than helping the man I love to have a little less to endure?" Her voice rose again. "Do you think I'd rather be off buying imported cognac, or a fancy racing broom? For heaven's sake!"

Lupin sat motionless, staring off into the distance, and said nothing. Tonks watched him, trying to understand. There was more going on here than she had expected. His face was still pale and drawn, and his eyes were troubled. His fists were clenched so tightly that the knuckles were white. The only other time she had seen him look like this – yes, of course – was the night that Dumbledore was killed, when she had dragged Lupin into an unused classroom near the hospital wing and hounded him until he admitted that a relationship might work out for them after all. That night, he had been torn between wanting something very, very much and believing that he didn't deserve to have it.

Ah.

"Wolfsbane makes a big difference, doesn't it," she prodded carefully. She knew the answer, from the research she had done, but she wanted him to tell her himself.

Lupin hesitated, but then he nodded abruptly and buried his face in his hands. Tonks put an arm around his shoulders and leaned her head against his.

"I can't even begin to describe what it's like," he said, very quietly. "Sitting alone, waiting for moonrise, knowing that a monster is coming to take over my mind." He shuddered, and she gave him a sympathetic squeeze. "Knowing that it will seize any chance it can to use me to hurt people, or contaminate them, or even kill them. Knowing that there's not a single thing I can do about it except lock myself up and wait for morning." He raised his head to look at her, his eyes haunted by the memories of a lifetime of full moons. "Wolfsbane makes the transformation less painful, and of course it prevents the rage-induced injuries, but what really matters is that it lets me keep my self."

"Well then, that settles it, don't you think?" said Tonks, her voice uncharacteristically gentle and a bit shaky again. She went over to the counter, pulled the cover off the cauldron, and measured some of its contents into a small earthenware goblet. Holding the goblet carefully in both hands, she carried it slowly across to the table, watching her feet (don't trip...don't trip...). She set it in front of Lupin and sat back down next to him.

Lupin stared at the goblet and then slowly turned to look at her. His eyes now held a sort of hesitant wonder. "Are you sure you want to do this? Every month?"

Tonks had recovered by then, enough at least to raise an eyebrow and produce a weak but cheeky grin. She swatted him lightly on the arm. "As I believe I've already told you, yes. Every month. Now will you stop wasting time? There's a marvellous curry waiting for us! Go on, take your potion so we can eat."

The corners of his mouth twitched a little then, in response to her teasing, but something also changed behind his eyes. She watched the last of the uncertainty disappear, to be replaced by something new: absolute trust.

Lupin raised the goblet in a silent toast and swallowed the dose all at once. He grimaced at the taste, but then he gave her a smile that lit up his whole face – a smile that made her catch her breath, and grin for all she was worth.

. * . * .