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hold-my-hand-kuroo · 4 years

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tendou as my favorite naruto!! openings-

it’s midnight where i am right now, so a big hbd to one of my favorite nerds!! here’s something quick and dumb that i did while i’m still functioning,,,this is what he would’ve wanted, i’m sure of it.

also before someone @’s me, i have more than four favorite naruto openings, but i just don’t have the time to write them all- (i am a “lovers” supremacist though).

pairing: tendou satori x reader

i. “We’ve pretended to forget the things we held dear, so we can just laugh and say it’s nothing.”

Tendou can’t say that quitting volleyball after high school was a bad idea. No longer does he have to ache throughout his legs and arms, and no longer does he have to practice inside a stuffy gym until the sun was gone. He can finally rest on the weekends or take time to work on assignments before midnight. It’s liberating and less stressful on his part. Plus, even if he slightly missed volleyball from time to time, he could just watch one of Ushijima’s games during his now-open weekends. For sure, Tendou can’t say that he regrets leaving the sport.

But he also can’t say that he doesn’t miss his paradise.

His favorite spot at university is the secluded spot in the back, hidden away from most students. It’s where you find him during long breaks in between classes or during lunch, and it’s where you sit under the shade of a tall tree, watching Tendou as he bounces the volleyball back and forth against the brick wall. The sound is soft, gentle, and steady, and it helps you concentrate on your work. Sometimes, after the long, grueling hours of an all-nighter, you find the noise to be lulling, almost hypnotic. It wasn’t hard for you to nod off.

Today is no exception. Procrastinating and leaving your final papers to the night before wasn’t your best idea, and after what seemed to be the strangest period of limbo, drifting between dozing off and waking up, you found yourself finally submitting and missing your entire night’s worth of sleep. You take your lunch break as an opportunity to finally get some rest, and when you round the corner, Tendou’s already there. He’s humming a tune, fingers pressing against the white ball. Hearing your footsteps, he turns and gives you a wide smile. Even then, he doesn’t stop tossing the ball.

“You look terrible,” he comments, stifling his laughter. You groan, settling against the wood of the tree but make no effort to respond. Tendou changes his song, picking a melody that is more calming while continuing to play. The gentle breeze sets you into a deep slumber with the redhead acting as your lullaby.

When you wake up, you find yourself leaning against his shoulder. Your eyes flutter open and then close almost immediately at the sudden intrusion of sunlight. Tendou chuckles from beside you, placing his hand over your closed lids and whistling to himself. Feeling around for his other hand, you trace your fingertips over his own, lingering touches dancing on his skin. You can tell that he’s in a good mood based on the song he’s humming. It was either that or the kiss he places on your cheek after letting you open your eyes.

“Satori?” you murmur, voice still tinged with drowsiness. He pauses his singing, signaling you to finish your thought. “Why aren’t you in the volleyball club?”

“Babe, are you getting sick of me? Or do you just hate me?” he laughs. “I’d run out of time to breathe, let alone see you on the regular.”

“You don’t miss it?”

“Are you really asking me if I miss being bruised all over and struggling to meet deadlines?” He laughs again and pokes your face with a teasing glint in his eye. “Y/N, I’m hurt!”

“You seem to like it a lot considering that you’re literally playing on your own every day.” You put extra emphasis on the last two words and give him a knowing look. Tendou just shakes his head.

“Nah. I only played in high school because joining a club was required. I don’t really care about it now.” His response is simple, less wordy than his usual elaborations, so you let the topic rest. Closing your eyes again, you take part in the humming. The melodies, completely different, clash like day and night, and it makes both of you laugh.

Tendou watches as you fall back to sleep, eyes filled with fondness. In truth, maybe Tendou misses his volleyball club a little bit. His paradise. Not the sport itself per se, but the people around him. It was hard finding classmates that didn’t find him utterly repulsive, so he wasn’t surprised that he fit well into a team that was filled with nothing but the most eccentric people he has ever met. Ushijima and his love affair with volleyball and Semi with his drive to risk it all were standouts, but he supposes that there were others too. Yeah, he misses them more than he’d like to admit, and he misses spending all his waking hours with them. Just a little.

“You stopped humming.” It’s more of a comment on your part rather a complaint, but you can tell by his jolt that you had unintentionally snapped him out of his deep thoughts. “There’s nothing wrong with missing high school, you know?”

“No, it’s okay.” He lies through his teeth, and you’re aware, but you decide to stay quiet.

ii. “I will never let go of your hand. Tell me what is on your mind.”

Tendou works hard because he knows he’s not enough. Because he feels undeserving.

When you waltzed into his life, he hardly had any time to prepare. It’s the first time someone has ever liked him back, and he’s still surprised to this day. Tendou’s not sure which qualities exactly that have caught your interest, but he’s almost 100% sure that your taste is terrible. There isn’t a day that goes by where he doesn’t think that the person holding your hand on the street could be someone so much more attractive, so much more appealing. Someone who didn’t make kids hide whenever they saw him or someone who could embrace you and say with full confidence that you deserved each other. You don’t need someone that constantly makes you worry. You definitely don’t need a guy like him.

He knows your entire schedule and pays special attention to your free periods so that he can visit you. His head is now space for him to keep notes on every little thing about you from your pet peeves to your favorite snacks. It’s counterintuitive for sure, thinking that he’s not worth your time but also desperately trying to keep a hold of you. It’s paradoxical, he knows, but he’s stuck in a limbo of wishing you the very best while also craving your touch and affection at any moment given in time. It’s selfish, and he finds himself wondering if the title of ‘Monster’ is fitting after all.

“Are you sure you’re okay like this?” he asks nervously one Saturday with you sitting by his side. You look at him curiously, setting your book down.

“What do you mean?” His eyes become shifty, looking away.

“I mean, aren’t you bored just reading manga at my house?” he asks, chuckling nervously. “We could go to that restaurant you wanted to go to instead-“

“We’re always doing the things I want though, Satori,” you whine. “That’s why today’s date is something you like. You’ve been wanting to catch up with this series for a while now, right?”

“Yeah, but-,” he tries to protest, frowning, but you just shake your head, silencing him. You don’t know much about the series, but you whenever you see Tendou’s eyes glitter at something particularly cool that his favorite characters did, your heart becomes warm. It’s incredibly endearing, and you definitely want to spend all day just watching him pursue his interests instead of fussing over you. You want to know more about his hobbies, his likes, and dislikes, but he’s oddly reserved about those topics.

“Which character is your favorite?” You ask in hopes of having Tendou open up and maybe give you a passionate rant, a sight you’ve been wanting to see for a while now. Nudging at his lanky arm, you crawl under, placing yourself in his lap. He immediately sets the volume down and pulls you into a tight embrace, balancing his chin on top of your head. You’re not upset about it, but you’re just a little disappointed. You were hoping that he’d keep reading.

“Do you know any of the characters?” he responds teasingly. You shake your head and pick up the book. “I can start from the beginning if you want-“

“No, no, no! Keep reading.” You’re urging him to continue, practically holding the pages over your head so that he can see them. Tendou laughs, shifts his chin to your shoulder, and complies, taking hold of the book once again. You’re not sure if he’s actually paying attention to the storyline since he keeps peppering you with kisses every few pages or so, but this is a good start. “What’s going on?”

“Curious, are we?” He clears his throat and points to one of the characters. “You see this guy over here? He’s the villain. My favorite, since you asked.”

“Is he…your type?”

“You’re my type,” Tendou coos, stifling another fit of laughter. He continues describing the plot, however, going through what has developed since volume one, each pivotal character, his favorite moments, and unbelievably deep analysis on symbols and events. He’s usually a chatty person, but you’ve never seen him rave over something so personal to who he is as a person. It wasn’t like when he would talk endlessly about something funny that happened or something he saw. Rather, his glow and animated gestures, his sense of comfort, and his lack of restraint keep you mesmerized, and it’s then that you realize that Tendou rarely talks about his hobbies in front of you. You wish he would.

“This is nice,” you murmur, returning a kiss onto his cheek. He immediately stiffens, and you’re a little bit startled. “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry for rambling,” he says rather on edge. He quickly closes the manga, arms returning to wrap around your body. “It was boring listening to me just talk about-“

“I thought it was cute though.” You sigh and turn around to face him. Pressing your nose to his, your lips are just barely a few millimeters apart from his. “I could listen to you talk about this all day, Satori.”

Tendou’s not sure if it’s the kiss that you press on his lips that intoxicates him or if it’s the fact that you smell like his shampoo, but for a moment, he feels himself wondering if it’d be okay to let you in onto his hobbies, his likes, his dislikes, and everything that he tries so hard to keep from you in fear of driving you away. Just for a second, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, it’d be fine for him to open up.

iii. “You cried just now like a sobbing child. Even if the future becomes invisible, I will protect you.”

An angel. That’s what Tendou thinks you are when you let him rest his head on your chest and wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him even closer into your comforting warmth. He’s calmed by the gentle rise and fall of your breathing and the soft beating of your heart. The way your fingers rake through his hair, the way your humming fills the emptiness, you’re his safe haven, his sanctuary. His new paradise. He likes how you just seem to know what’s wrong, because he hates to complain, especially to you. He would much rather prefer making you laugh with a funny joke or story, but for now, he lets you play with his hair and caress his back.

You’re humming the song that he often sings for you when you’re feeling down. While you’re not exactly the perfect vocalist, straining at some high parts, you wonder if it helps Tendou at all, even if minimally. He cries quietly, and you wonder if it’s because he’s spent years being sad alone. The thought pains your heart, so instead, you take his palm and place it against your lips, quietly whispering praise. Things about him being more than enough and things that you wonder if he’d laugh at, you pour your sincerity into it all. You know he’ll tell you when he’s ready, so you find a way to pass the time.

“Let’s take a bath, Satori,” you mumble into his hair, waiting to see if he’s willing to get off of you. His movement is slow, reluctant, but you do feel him nodding, getting off of you with his head hung low. He doesn’t mean to be so down, so annoying, and he doesn’t hold it against you if you get irritated. But you don’t, and he feels like he’s the luckiest man in the world. “I’ll wash your hair for you. Come on.”

He holds your hand all the way to the bathroom, refusing to lose contact from the warmth of your skin. Even when the two of you are getting undressed, he’s quickly back to leaning into you in the tub. It’s a little bit difficult since his limbs are so long and lanky, but with a bit of curling up on Tendou’s part, you make enough space for yourself. He practically sinks into your fingers rubbing through his scalp, and you see his shoulders begin to lose their tension. You hum, satisfied, and work the soap around his body, helping him wash up. The smile that spreads across your face when he starts humming back is wide. You feel a little bit dumb, but you’re just so relieved that Tendou’s energy is finally back. The giggles that spill from your lips as he splashes about practically pour out from your pretty lips that Tendou wants to kiss so, so badly, but he decides to wait for a more comfortable position.

He hates to admit it, but he loves the feeling of being pampered. Granted, he was always more of a giver, but he supposes that being on the receiving side of things isn’t as bad as he initially thought, especially when you take the towel to rub against his hair and sit him down on the couch with hairdryer in hand.

“My hair is gonna get all puffy if you use that,” is the first complete sentence that leaves his mouth after returning home that night. He lacks his usual energy, but you don’t blame him. Rather, his soft chuckle sends your own spirits flying. “I’ll look ridiculous.”

“Really?” you muse, plugging in the device despite his protests. “I think you’ll be cute, all fluffy and stuff.”

“Why don’t you get a pet or something instead then?”

“Wouldn’t you get jealous if I paid too much attention to a cat over you?”

He pretends to think hard, then nods his head rapidly. You giggle again, maneuvering the hairdryer around his head. The machine is a little loud, but you can hear Tendou back to his usual humming, moving his body around ever so slightly just to make your task a lot harder than it was supposed to be. You watch as he swings left and then right with a certain mischievousness about him, twiddling with his fingers and then casually flipping on the television to his favorite channel. You’re not sure if he actually likes the show that’s being broadcasted or just the BGM, as he never really watched it and would much rather prefer to listen to the audio only while doing something else.

“Babe, can this be our song,” he jokes before going back to sing the opening lyrics to the children’s show.

“Satori, I don’t even know this show,” you reply, trying to sound exasperated as possible. He knows you’re pretending though and raises a curious brow. Then, he breaks into a grin. “I don’t have a good feeling about this-“

“What do you want to watch then?” His question is abrupt, but his eyes glint impishly. You’d be nervous if you weren’t overjoyed at his newly regained energy. “You sound like you want to do something else.”

“You’ll catch a cold,” you try to scold, but he pays no head, grabbing the hairdryer out of your hand and shutting it off. He tugs at the chord gently, unplugging it all together, and reaches for your waist. He places you securely on your lap. You can only stammer short retorts that are muffled by the energetic kisses he places all over your face. He relishes in every giggle and every squeal that escapes your mouth. Even the ways your eyes crinkle when you’re smiling makes his heart go insane. Suddenly, he stops to rest his forehead against yours. Your gaze almost absorbs him completely, but he doesn’t have qualms about that part.

“What’s wrong, Satori?” you ask, barely above a whisper.

He takes a deep breath. “Do you…mind if I vent a little?”

“You know you never have to ask for permission about that, right?” You kiss him on each of his eyes, each a little bit puffy, and then on his cheek. “I’m all ears.”

iv. “So keep trying to break free to that blue, blue sky.”

It’s always a fun, albeit loud, time when Tendou invites his old Shiratorizawa friends over for his reunion parties. You don’t mind at all, of course, considering that you were the one who encouraged this gathering in the first place. To be honest, you’re a little bit curious about how he acts around his closest friends that he talks so much about. You even wonder if a man like Ushijima Wakatoshi, the one you only see on TV or in interviews, is actually as funny as Tendou makes him out to be. In other words, you expect your home to be loud, but what you didn’t expect was that it’d be loud over you.

“Guys, Y/N’s super-duper gorgeous, right?” he asks for what seemed like the thousandth time that night. He’s set on making Ushijima give in to the fact that you’re the most beautiful person in the entire universe, but you wonder how many times you have to witness the professional’s utter silence at the question before Tendou would give up. “Toshi, you should just give it up already and say it!”

“I haven’t seen every single person in this universe, so I can’t answer,” his friend answers, brushing him off. Shirabu snorts from Ushijima’s side.

“Boo,” Tendou whines, kissing your face. From the corner of your eye, you catching Goshiki gagging. “Can’t you be a little bit more excited over the love of my life?”

“We are excited.” Semi chuckles, whacking Tendou a few times on the back to which the red-head responds with feigned pain. “But we know you’ll start sulking if we go overboard with the compliments.”

“I do not sulk that easily!” Tendou huffs, chest puffed out, and slaps Semi back. He only laughs. “I can’t believe I’m being bullied by a guy with no sense of style at all!”

“I asked you about this jacket before I bought it, and you told me it was fine!”

“You shouldn’t have asked him at all.” Shirabu smirks from across the table, arms crossed. “I bet this smart ass thought it was Y/N texting him instead of you, Semi.”

“You didn’t have to do him like that,” Kawanishi mumbles from beside the former setter. Still, that doesn’t wipe away the smirks they’re both wearing, and Tendou can only chuckle sheepishly.

“Well, what am I supposed to when Y/N looks good in anything?” Tendou sighs. His exasperation and added theatrical flair make you giggle even though you’re slightly embarrassed that he’s showing off to everyone from his old team. “Semi Semi, if it was Y/N wearing that jacket, it’d look great. You? Not so much.”

“That’s the most roundabout way of insulting me.” Shirabu and Kawanishi snicker quietly, earning a glare from Semi that goes ignored. “I suddenly remember why all the underclassmen thought you were such a hassle, Tendou.”

You turn to him in fascination. It wasn’t a surprise to you that he liked to tease and poke fun of other people, but you never thought that he was a bully. You initially had imagined Tendou to be a well-respected senior based on his reputation as a middle-blocker. Never in a million years did you think that it was the exact opposite.

“Goshiki, is that true?” you turn to ask, and the younger man nods emphatically. He’s agreeing with Semi so much that his nods make his hair fly all over the place, earning a loud laugh from Tendou.

“Y/N, Tendou was the absolute worst,” Goshiki answers, setting down his drink so forcefully that it almost spills. “He’d always ignore us when we did something good, but then he’d compliment us for absolutely nothing. It messed me up so much that instead of expecting him to cheer for landing a really good serve, I waited for praise for turning off the lights or something. Tendou was awful.”

“That was probably you being dumb, but I do agree that Tendou was never quiet during practice.” Shirabu grimaces, but you’re not sure if it’s because he just remembered something particularly annoying or if it’s because he’s agreeing with Goshiki. “I never want to go back.”

“I remember one time, he thought it’d be funny to salt the water,” Kawanishi mutters and the entire table breaks into a loud groan. “Yeah, I think I have to agree with you guys. Tendou was a handful.”

From beside you, you hear Tendou tsking and catching him wagging a disapproving finger. “Guys, you can’t insult Y/N like that! I’m gonna beat you guys up if you keep going on.”

“Dude, we get it.” Semi punches him once on the arm and then another time for good measure. “You’re married. You’ve told us a million times.”

“There’s that and the fact that we were, you know, at the wedding,” Shirabu sighs.

“Congratulations.” Ushijima’s comment is a little out of place, especially since the ceremony was already a month ago, and he had been one of the first people that Tendou told, but you only smile and thank him again. “It was an honor to be the best man.”

“Toshi, you don’t have to be so formal, you know?” Tendou grins, resting his chin on his hand. From underneath the table, you feel his other hand reach for yours, running his digits over the silver band sitting on your ring finger. “But really, I’m just reminding you guys that Y/N and I are married. I wouldn’t be surprised if you forgot since you’re all always so busy.”

“Oh, what would I give to forget you?” Shirabu sighs, earning another chuckle from Kawanishi and even Semi.

You laugh at the playful banter between Tendou and his friends. You squeeze his hand gently, and even while he’s participating in a heated debate with Semi over the gray-haired man’s best album, your husband makes sure to return your squeeze. In full truth, Tendou’s still aware of every little thing that you do. It’s one of the many things that have stayed the same over the years. He still sings, and he still likes to mess up your hair, but most importantly, he makes it a point to keep remembering everything about you. Tendou’s aware that something in him has changed, so he reasons that maybe you had your little changes too. And he’d remember all of them.

“Hey, spill the tea, Y/N,” Semi jokes. “Doesn’t Tendou make for a terrible husband?”

“Yeah right,” Tendou scoffs. His grin doesn’t falter and only widens when you shake your head at Semi. “That’s absolutely correct! I’m the best husband ever."

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #satori tendou #tendou satori #tendou #tendou x reader #satori tendou x reader #tendou satori x reader #shiratorizawa #happy birthday tendou!!#nerd!!#lol how do you write dialogue???

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aidanchaser · 4 years

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Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince: Everyone Lives AU

Table of Contents beta’d by @ageofzero, @magic713m, @ccboomer, @somebodyswatson, and Aubs

Chapter Twelve Silver and Opals

As soon as the door to the cell closed behind her, Tonks slumped against the cold stone wall. She breathed out a silent prayer of gratitude that at least she did not have to deal with dementors on this trip to Azkaban. As horrifying as it was that the dementors had left and were loose around England, she was not sure she could have survived this visit otherwise.

“Alright?” Proudfoot asked with a raised eyebrow.

Tonks gave him a wan smile. “Alright. Except that the guy doesn’t know anything. Don’t know why Scrimgeour’s insisting we keep him.”

Tonks pushed herself off against the wall and followed Proudfoot down the stairs of Azkaban’s western tower. Her interrogation with Stan Shunpike had gone exactly as she’d expected. Stan had pleaded innocence, said he didn’t know anything, he’d been exaggerating, he’d been trying to impress people.

“I suppose even people who pretend to have associations with Death Eaters ought to be taken seriously. Prevents people from….” Proudfoot rubbed the side of his head and winced. Tonks didn’t think he noticed it anymore, but it had become a tick of his whenever he thought too hard about something, a remnant of his duel with Pyrites last spring. “Sorry. I guess I just mean we’ve got to take any threat seriously.”

“I don’t blame Scrimgeour and Robards for having him brought in,” Tonks said, and tightened the scarf around her neck as they reached the large doors leading out of Azkaban, “but I think he’s learned his lesson, don’t you? He’s not going to give us anything useful.”

The doors out of Azkaban stood nearly as tall as the castle wall itself. They were each a meter thick, crafted out of ironwood and reinforced with bands of steel that were then reinforced with enchantments that left the metal glowing an eerie silver. On either side of the doors were two security trolls who towered twelve-feet high, nearly as high as the door, and beneath them stood two burly wizards, arms folded over their chest. As Tonks and Proudfoot approached, one whipped out a Secrecy Sensor and the other a Probity Probe. Without further prompting, Tonks and Proudfoot raised their arms over their heads and waited until they were cleared. They’d done this a hundred times. It was standard practice before going into the office these days — so Tonks went in as little as possible.

When the guards seemed satisfied that Tonks and Proudfoot were exactly who they said they were, they ordered the trolls to open the doors.

Each troll grabbed the enormous handles attached to a wheel and chain and pulled. With a loud clanking and a low-pitched creaking, the doors to Azkaban opened, just enough for Tonks and Proudfoot to squeeze out, and then they slammed closed behind them.

The North Sea crashed around them, drenching Tonks’s hair and clothes. She pulled her cloak tighter and shivered, and reminded herself to be grateful that it was not her job to stand out here as a guard.

The two wizards who did have the unfortunate duty of protecting the gates outside of Azkaban handed them their wands, for no wands were allowed inside Azkaban. Finally, she and Proudfoot were able to Apparate back to the Ministry. It was not quiet, at least not as quiet as the late night hours usually were. A pair of witches waited at the golden gates for Security to let them in. Another wizard stood by someone in bright green healer’s robes, having a whispered discussion. Several Hit Wizards lined the Floo Network entrances, prepared to detain and interrogate anyone who appeared suspicious. They were not far from the new, gaping hole in the Atrium, while the Ministry figured out how they would replace the Fountain of Magical Brethren that had been destroyed in Voldemort and Dumbledore’s duel.

Exhaustion kept the two of them quiet as they headed through security and up to the Auror offices. Anne Scrimgeour was there, ready with their assignments for tomorrow. Just seeing the scroll in Anne’s hand made Tonks’ exhaustion level increase twofold. She hadn’t even finished her day, and already tomorrow’s task was looming in front of her.

She slumped into her chair and carefully flattened the scroll out over her desk. Part of her hoped it might be hunting down Fenrir Greyback, though she knew that Marcy had been put on that trail weeks ago. Instead, she discovered she was scheduled to be at Hogwarts for the weekend.

The Ministry had, of course, insisted on extra security for Hogwarts. They wanted round-the-clock Auror patrols of the corridors and grounds in addition to all the extra protections Dumbledore and the Ministry had already placed on the school. Dumbledore had, in turn, submitted a list of Aurors he deemed appropriate to patrol Hogwarts — meaning, Aurors who were also in the Order.

Shacklebolt was still working with the Muggle Prime Minister, and the Longbottoms were in charge of the recently added Dark Wizard Detection and Detainment Task Force, so it was mostly her, the Prewetts, and Moody. Moody was still technically retired, but he at least helped guard Hogwarts when he was needed. Tonks did not think there was any favour Dumbledore could ask of Moody that Moody would not give, and that was a hard level of respect to earn from Moody.

Padfoot leaned on her desk and craned his neck to get a look at her assignment. “Hogwarts? I got Knockturn Alley rounds this weekend with Savage. How did you even get on the Hogwarts list? You’re still the youngest of the Aurors — Diggory doesn’t count, and don’t tell me he does. He’s got three years of training to get through, just like we all did.”

Tonks tucked the new orders into her coat pocket. “You were still out for your injury when Dumbledore made his list. I’m sure that’s all it is. Did you write your report yet or are you just harassing me to procrastinate?”

When their reports were finally done, and they’d approved each other’s account of their interrogation of Stan Shunpike, they finally left the Ministry of Magic. Proudfoot, while not his usual cheery self, was his usual chatty self. He talked about his sister’s plans for a holiday in Florida in an effort to escape what was likely to be a harsh winter, the strange smell that had started to creep into his flat that he hadn’t had time to investigate fully, and a half-dozen other things on their wait in the lift and their walk out of the Ministry.

The night sky over London was dark, not a single star visible. Tonks was only able to find the moon, a vague, silvery light behind the cloud cover, because it was nearly full. Tomorrow night it would reach the peak of its cycle, and someone she loved very deeply would endure a lot of pain.

“I know a great twenty-four hour place,” Proudfoot said, pulling Tonks out of her staring contest with the hidden moon.

“What?”

“I thought you just said you were hungry.”

Perhaps she had murmured an agreement accidentally. And, as she thought about it, she actually was hungry.

Tonks checked her pocketwatch and groaned. “I can’t. I’ve got to be at Hogwarts first thing in the morning.”

“Hogwarts patrol is easy enough. Dumbledore’s got all the security in place, hasn’t he? You’ll wander around, get yourself an excellent meal, and be done with the day.”

Tonks did not think a Hogwarts patrol would be as simple as all that, but she agreed with him that it would be easier than today had been.

“Fine, but I need to let my mum know I’m alright. Hopefully she’ll believe me.” With a muttered incantation, Tonks summoned her Patronus and sent it off to deliver her hasty apology and promises she was alright.

It wasn’t until she saw Proudfoot staring at her, dumbfounded and scratching the side of his head, that she realized he was only familiar with her quick rabbit, not the lumbering silver wolf. An apology leapt to the tip of her tongue, but she held it back, unsure what she was to apologize for. Not telling him she’d fallen in love?

Proudfoot was the one to apologize. “Sorry. I thought — I dunno what I thought.” He continued running his hand through his thick brown curls and let out a long, slow breath. “A wolf, huh?” His patronus was a Kneazle, a far cry from the one she’d just revealed.

“Yeah — a wolf.”

“Used to be…?”

“A rabbit.”

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” He frowned, eyes still on the space where her wolf had vanished. “It’s the old legend, isn’t it? Patronus changing to match someone you love?”

“I didn’t ask the wolf, but — well, I ‘spect so.”

“And I haven’t heard about them because…?”

“Because it’s complicated.”

“Well, my food offer still stands. Tell me all about him. Or her.”

Tonks, who knew how hard it could be to extend friendship to someone you wished would love you, appreciated his offer more than she could put into words.

Proudfoot led Tonks towards a caff around the bend of the Thames. It was a few miles to walk, but the cold, fresh air felt good after so many hours in Azkaban. It also made it easier to talk.

“Start with their name,” Proudfoot prodded.

Tonks thought that was the last place she wanted to start. It would be easier if Proudfoot didn’t know who she was talking about and didn’t make a number of assumptions based on Lupin’s previous run-ins with the Ministry.

“He’s a friend of my cousin. So I knew him growing up. Always thought he was sweet, y’know? And funny. I mean, I really looked up to my cousin — Mum always thought he was a bad influence, but you know my Mum.”

“In concept,” Proudfoot laughed. “Just promise me the cousin you’re talking about is Sirius Black and not Regulus Black? Or Draco Malfoy?”

Tonks had never been more grateful for Proudfoot’s sense of humor. It was why the two of them got on so well. “Of course I’m talking about Sirius.”

“And the friend isn’t James Potter, is it? Because I think I can point out some quick problems with that relationship.”

“I do not have a crush on James Potter! Stop — did you want to hear about him or not?”

“You didn’t give me his name, Tonks! I’m just making sure the reason you’re keeping him secret isn’t because he’s already married to a very powerful and terrifying witch who has it in for the Ministry.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. It was sudden, uncontrolled, and brief. She couldn’t remember if she’d laughed in the last month. She couldn’t remember if she’d laughed at all since Voldemort’s return was finally public. Since she’d had a real conversation with Remus. But it was funny to hear how the Ministry felt about Lily Potter.

“I’m not in love with Potter. Promise.”

“Alright, alright, carry on.”

Proudfoot led her through a garden along the bank of the Thames. On any other day, Tonks might have worried he was trying to make this walk romantic, but she found it so much easier to breathe, now that he knew she wasn’t interested in him. She wished she had tried to talk to him about it all sooner, but they’d danced around the line between friendly and flirty for so long, she hadn’t known how to bring it up. Perhaps an accidental discovery like this was the only way for them to move forward.

“So I always sort of liked him,” she said, “but it was just a silly crush, you know? I dated at school and everything, but, well, I dunno, after I finished at Hogwarts I saw him at a party and I just — it all hit me all over again. My heart got all jittery, and I didn’t want to leave, even when my mum and dad left. I just wanted to keep talking to him. But then there was Auror training, and I was so busy and exhausted all the time —”

“I remember Moody ran you hard.”

“Yes! It was miserable, but worth it… Anyway, this past year, we’ve spent a lot of time together and — I dunno, I thought he finally saw me as an adult, not as his friend’s kid cousin. I thought that maybe he liked me too.” Tonks felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes and she instead latched onto her anger at herself for being so upset. She shouldn’t be reacting this way. Unrequited love hurt, but it was nothing worth crying to a co-worker about.

“I’m sorry.” And Proudfoot sounded like he meant it. There was no relief in his voice that Tonks wasn’t actually taken. There was no hope that because her love was unrequited she might turn her feelings to him. He was just sympathetic.

“When I tried to talk to him about it, he said there was nothing to talk about. It hurt, but I knew I could be alright with it. Even if he did have feelings for me and just wanted to be stubborn and deny it, fine. If he wanted to date someone else, fine. If he was content with his own company, fine. I could make my peace with that. But he….” She sighed and ran a hand through her thin, mousy brown hair, wishing that she could turn it back to her favourite vibrant pink. “It’s just a lot more complicated.”

Proudfoot considered this. He kept his eyes on the road ahead, following the occasional Muggle automobile that passed them along the embankment. His hands were in his pockets, presumably one on his wand, and Tonks hastily shoved her wand hand into her pocket. She’d been using her hands to assist her talking, but she knew Moody would have criticized her for taking her hand off her wand for even a moment.

“What reasons has he given you for not wanting a relationship?” Proudfoot finally asked.

“He says I don’t deserve him because he’s old and… and sick. He thinks I ought to fall in love with some young attractive Auror instead of him — his words, not mine.”

Proudfoot’s face flushed and a grin spread across it. “So he knows me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. But yes, he’s seen you before. He knows we’ve worked together. And it just makes me angry that he thinks he can tell me who I should fall in love with!”

Proudfoot nodded. “Yeah, I see that. Has he admitted that he shares your feelings? It almost sounds like he’s making excuses to avoid hurting your feelings — and failing spectacularly, I might add.”

“I thought that for a bit, but then I talked it over with Sirius, who knows him best. Sirius said he does have feelings for me, that Sirius is sure of it. Sirius seems to think the problem is that Remus doesn’t want to deal with his own feelings and insecurities, so he’s running from them.”

“Oh. This is about Remus Lupin. I see.”

The tone of Proudfoot’s voice turned from as comforting as her mother’s homegrown herbal teas to as cold and icy as a dementor’s chill. Tonks felt her hurt and anger stunned into temporary submission as her brain tried to work out which part of Remus Lupin it was that made Proudfoot so angry. Was it that he finally had a name and a face for Tonks’ love? Was it the werewolf thing?

Tonks did as she did best: tried to brush it off with a joke. “What? Would you be less upset if I’d said it was Emmeline Vance?”

Proudfoot did not see the humor. “I just think what he is matters. You can’t have a serious relationship with someone like that.”

So it was the werewolf. “Glad to have your opinion on it,” she said coolly.

“I just mean that you ought to think about it practically. He certainly is. You can’t live with someone with that kind of condition — it’s dangerous! You know he never registered himself? And imagine what might happen to your children —”

“Merlin’s merchant, Proudfoot, where do you get off talking about me having kids?”

“I’m just looking at it in the long-term. That’s all.”

“And I was so glad to have a friend to talk to about it.” Tonks rolled her eyes, embarrassed by the gratitude she’d felt just moments ago. “You’re unbelievable. Sirius is in love with the man and he’s a better comfort about all of this than you are.”

Without checking for Muggles and without waiting for another poor, insensitive explanation from Proudfoot, Tonks Disapparated, leaving the man she had — until just a moment ago — considered her best friend standing alone on the roadside in London. She Apparated into her mother’s garden, with no care for the mint plant she trod over, and stomped into the house.

Despite the late hour, Andromeda Tonks was still up with a book in her lap, and looked relieved to see Tonks. Her relief turned into concern when she actually took in Tonks’ expression.

“What’s happened?”

“Nothing. It’s fine, Mum,” she grunted, and stomped up the stairs to her bedroom, slamming the door closed.

“Nymphadora!” her mother shrieked, with the same strength and indignation she’d used throughout Tonks’ teenage years.

As another set of footsteps stomped up the stairs behind Tonks, the house seemed to groan with weariness. It had endured hundreds of similar arguments as Tonks had passed through puberty and into adulthood; it was likely to endure a hundred more.

Tonks was barely out of her coat when her mother threw the door open.

“Nymphadora!”

“What, Mum?” She was so tired of every adult treating her like a child, and she wished she knew how to stop herself from responding as if she still were a child.

“You know better than to come barging into this house at ungodly hours making that kind of noise —”

“Because you haven’t just woken half of the neighborhood yourself —”

“Don’t interrupt me! I’ve been up half the night, worried sick about you, and you brush me off like I’m little more than a house-elf —”

“I’m sorry, Mum. I’m tired. It was a long day.” Tonks hung her coat in her wardrobe, simply because her mother was still standing in her doorway and she knew she’d get another scolding if she left it on the floor.

There was a heavier set of footsteps in the hallway, joined by a loud yawn, and her father came stumbling down the hall, dressed in his nightclothes. He joined her mother in the doorway. “Dromeda, Dora, must we do this now?”

“She’s the unreasonable one!” Tonks said, raising her voice more than she meant to, an old habit of an oft-repeated phrase growing up. “Shouting like it’s the end of the world at Merlin knows what hour of the night!”

“I’m the unreasonable one? I’m just asking for the bare minimum — the absolute least you can do is say hello when you come home. Some basic decency is all I ask for in this house.”

“I’ve said I’m sorry, Mum. What else do you want? I’ll remember to send my Patronus earlier next time.”

“You have no idea what it’s like, waiting up with worry while you’re only child is off fighting who-knows-what and who-knows-who and —”

“Yeah, and I ‘spect I never will. I was at Azkaban half the day, and I’ve got to be at Hogwarts in the morning, and I’d like to get just an hour of good sleep in, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Ah,” Ted Tonks said, and stifled another yawn. “There it is. Did you have another run-in with Lupin?”

“No! Dad — just go back to bed.” Her cheeks flushed, and had she been thirteen instead of twenty three, her hair would have burned bright red with embarrassment.

“Are you really still interested in him, Nymphadora?” asked Andromeda. “It’s been nearly six months since you’ve even spoken to him.”

Tonks rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mum, I’m aware. You say it like I can help it.”

“Oh, please. You are not the protagonist of some Russian novel who can stand around waiting for him to reform bad habits and realize he’s been in love with you all this time. You cannot mope about —”

“I’m not moping!”

“Then change your hair. Fix your nose. As much as I love seeing my face on my daughter for once, I miss seeing your father’s. You’ve let this man take a wonderful gift from you, and it’s growing ridiculous.”

“Dromeda,” Ted said, and put his arm around his wife, “don’t pretend you were any less romantic about love when you were her age. I recall several impassioned speeches about what you thought of your family’s philosophy, and how you didn’t care what it cost you, you would have me no matter what.”

Andromeda’s face grew red. “That was different! We had each other — and we had a plan —”

“It’s not the same, but it’s not that different,” Ted said. “Come on, let’s get to bed before any of us say something we’ll regret in the morning. Will you be home tomorrow night, Dora?”

Tonks, still furious with her mother shook her head. “No. I’m at Hogwarts this weekend. I expect I’ll be home on Monday.”

Andromeda’s face was shrewd. “Why not come home tomorrow night? London’s no closer to Hogwarts than we are.”

“Let it go, Dromeda,” Ted said. “She’s an adult, and if she wants to keep throwing herself at this, that’s her choice.”

Andromeda did not look like she was going to let it go. “This conversation isn’t over, Nymphadora.”

Tonks rolled her eyes. “Brilliant. Can’t wait until we pick it up again.” She considered never coming home again, but the last thing she needed was her mother pounding on the Potters’ or Weasleys’ doors, demanding to know where she was and how to get to the Order’s headquarters in London. As her bedroom door closed, and she was finally alone, she reminded herself that her parents were simply looking out for her. Her mother cared, as difficult as that could be to see. Tonks tried, as she tried every night in the middle of this war, to count the things she was grateful for, and having two living parents who loved her was at the top of the list.

—————————— ✶✶✶ ——————————

At the bottom of Tonks’ list of things to be grateful for was the weather. Though she’d been glad to have the dementors out of Azkaban just yesterday, she was already wishing them back. Hogwarts was bitterly cold, and it wasn’t even November.

Tonks doubled her scarf around her face to shield herself from the biting cold atop the Astronomy Tower. She leaned over the edge of the parapets and watched the students file out, all successfully passing Filch’s Secrecy Sensor. She thought about how many times she’d tricked Filch during her time as a student, and wondered if his Secrecy Sensor was as reliable as he’d insisted.

Tonks watched until she saw a group of four wrapped in Gryffindor scarves — one with short, messy dark hair, another with long untidy red hair, someone with dusty blonde hair, and someone with long, thick, curly hair — set out from the castle to brave the icy cold wind that blew down the path to Hogsmeade. Tonks was, as her Auror assignment said, guarding Hogwarts in Dumbledore’s absence. But more than that, she was guarding Harry.

And she’d expected him to head out into Hogsmeade, which is why she was up here on the Astronomy Tower, watching to make sure he’d gone, though she’d been hoping he wouldn’t bother to brave the weather. With a disappointed sigh and a curse on courageous Gryffindors, Tonks cast a simple Disillusionment Charm on herself and mounted her Comet Two Sixty. She wasn’t used to having to resort to spells for Disguise, but she’d gained a lot of practice these last few months.

Her gift hadn’t vanished right away. It had been slow, like exhaustion creeping in as the day grew longer. At first, she’d thought it simply was exhaustion. Changing her appearance became like stretching an over-extended muscle. It hurt, and she could do it, but not for long. Then the things she did without a second thought seemed to take all of her concentration. Her hair, her eyes, her nose, her jaw — the things about her that mirrored her mother that she had spent her whole life disguising, first out of spite and then out of habit — all relaxed into their natural shape. Until one morning, she found she was unable to shrink her nose or soften her cheekbones. She could not grow her nails into claws or turn her hair from brown to pink.

She’d thought it was the war that had worn her out, but when she had seen Remus after his transformation last July, she had known exactly why she was so tired, so exhausted. The war was something she had trained for, and she’d been trained well for it by Mad-Eye Moody. Falling in love with someone who repeatedly tormented himself — not just on the full moon but on each night of his life — had never been something she’d prepared for.

Tonks landed her broom just outside the Three Broomsticks and tucked it away in a shed behind Rosmerta’s pub. She’d retrieve it later.

For now, Tonks walked the streets of Hogsmeade. She was familiar with its layout, having visited enough times as a student. It wasn’t particularly crowded, with how terrible the weather was. Still, she found it strange to watch the clusters of students hurry from shop to shop. It wasn’t too long ago that she had been one of them, and yet it felt like a lifetime ago. The only students she could possibly know were the seventh years, who had only been bitty firsties when she’d been in her final year. She didn’t think she’d recognize any names.

The students she did know — Harry, Hermione, Neville, and the Weasleys — were nowhere to be seen. Tonks tried to think of where Harry might go. She knew he’d been to the Hog’s Head before, but from what she understood it had been a special occasion. She wondered if he was continuing Dumbledore’s Army now that Umbridge had been deposed, if he’d decided it was still necessary with Snape in charge of Defense.

Tonks wandered the path down to the Hog’s Head, but it didn’t seem like any students were particularly interested in braving the long walk to the edge of town, away from the warm, inviting shops. When Tonks did open the door to the Hog’s Head, she was greeted by the smell of animal dung and an unwelcoming grunt from the barkeep. The place itself was empty.

“Wotcher, Aberforth,” she said as she approached the counter.

Aberforth half-growled. “Don’t have time for your funny business, Nymphadora.”

Tonks wished she felt anything like funny business. With the loss of Proudfoot, Aberforth was the last person left in her life she could joke around with. “I’ve outgrown all that,” she said with a shrug. “Just checkin’ to make sure you aren’t serving Firewhiskey to firsties.”

“Not unless they’re as wrinkled as shrivelfigs. Or if you’ve got another student that can make their face look as weathered as mine.”

“Just me, far’s I know. Any interesting shrivelfigs come through?”

“In this weather?” Aberforth stroked his beard. “‘Dung came in here, tried to sell me something. I gave him a firm reminder he was banned. Are you going to buy something or did you just come to annoy me?”

A drink sounded tempting. “Sorry, but I’m working. Maybe tonight.”

“Butterbeer for the road, then?”

Tonks could not resist something warm in this terrible weather. As grumpy as he was, Aberforth was an excellent salesman. Or maybe he was just trying to unload his dusty collection of butterbeers on unsuspecting Aurors. Tonks’ lips curled back in disgust as he handed her the glass bottle coated in a quarter inch of muck, as if he’d unearthed it from the floor.

“Cheers,” she said, and tucked the glass bottle into her coat. At least it was warm.

She left Aberforth, cheered by the interaction. She’d once made the mistake of impersonating Dumbledore in her third year in order to get herself a drink at the Hog’s Head. It had gone terribly, but how was she to know that the barkeep was the Headmaster’s estranged brother? Aberforth had promised not to tell the school what she’d done as long as she promised not to let everyone know who he was. It had been a fine arrangement, one Tonks had leaned on and abused to get the occasional free drink in her later years.

As Tonks headed back to the shops in the center of Hogsmeade, she wished she’d spent time practicing warming charms instead of Disillusionment Charms. The wind was picking up, and she was pretty sure there was a storm coming.

She caught sight of Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione exiting Zonko’s and hurrying across the street towards the Three Broomsticks. They didn’t seem to notice her, which she was grateful for, though disappointed they’d chosen the Three Broomsticks. She couldn’t very well go in and have Harry recognize her, but she did very much want to get warm.

She ducked into Gladrags. Though most of the window was plastered with Death Eater wanted posters, there was a space in the corner where she had a good view of the Three Broomsticks. Tonks settled into the corner and when the shop owner asked her to buy something or leave, she simply flashed her Auror badge. He ignored her after that.

Harry and his friends stayed in the Three Broomsticks just long enough to enjoy a nice, warm butterbeer before heading back into the cold. She waited until they’d passed by Gladrags before heading out into the cold herself. The butterbeer in her pocket wasn’t especially warm anymore, and she pulled her coat closer to stave off the bite of the windchill.

She squinted up at the castle, and wondered if she ought to take her broom back. The wind was picking up, and she didn’t have any desire for her Comet to get caught in a gale and have the both of them into the Whomping Willow. She also had no desire to walk into the wind. In the end, Tonks chose the lesser of two evils. She pulled her collar tight and trudged up the path towards the castle. She had barely crested the first hill and taken in the vision of the Black Lake, with white caps on its traditionally mirror-smooth waters, when a blood-curdling scream cut through the air.

Tonks bolted into a run. The glass bottle in her coat pocket swung like a pendulum as she hurried towards the sound, wand out, eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of distress. The scream continued, even as she ran, and as she mounted the ridge where she had last seen Harry, she saw a young girl, hovering six feet in the air just at the end of the bridge that crossed the Black Lake, screaming with all her might as the wind whipped around her. Tonks had barely taken two more steps when the girl collapsed to the ground in a heap. Five students clustered around her. Tonks saw the one she thought was Harry run towards Hagrid’s hut. That was good; Tonks was still far enough away that Harry might reach Hagrid first.

Tonks searched for more strength to put into her sprint, but it felt like no matter how hard she tried, she could not run fast enough. Then, as her feet left the well-worn path and hit the hard, stone bridge, she tripped and sprawled onto the ground. She heard the glass in her coat pocket shatter, and the left side of her chest grew wet and warm. She did not even stop to consider the sensation; she only cursed her clumsiness and picked herself back up.

When she finally reached the end of the bridge, she skidded to the young girl’s side, this time intentionally slamming her knees into the bridge. Hagrid and Harry were just steps away.

“Get back,” Hagrid shouted at the students as Tonks ran her wand over the girl on the ground.

The girl was still screaming and writhing in pain. Tonks hated these kinds of curses, the ones you could neither see nor defend yourself against. She was not very good at treating them, either. Snape was better. And Hagrid was faster.

“Get her to Madam Pomfrey,” she said, though Hagrid had knelt down to scoop her up as soon as Tonks pulled her wand away. “And get Snape!” she added as he ran off with the still-screaming girl in his arms.

“Is anyone else hurt?” Tonks looked at the five students — Harry, Ron, Neville, Hermione, and a girl she’d never met.

They all shook their heads.

“Did someone attack her? What happened?”

The girl Tonks did not know pointed at some brown wrappings on the ground. “It — it was when that package tore,” she sobbed.

The wrappings were nearly soaked through, and as the wind whipped the loose edges around, Tonks saw something glittering underneath.

Ron knelt down and reached for the package.

“Don’t —” A jinx shot from the end of Tonks’ wand and knocked Ron backwards. She hadn’t meant to use the Knockback Jinx, but she’d been so determined to keep Ron away from whatever was in that package, she’d reacted without thinking.

Harry knelt next and, before she could even open her mouth, said, “I’m not going to touch it!” Instead he reached for the wrapping, and pulled it back to reveal a stunning opal necklace, glittering with iridescent greens and blues and whites.

“I’ve seen that before,” Hermione gasped. “Or one just like it. It was on display in Borgin and Burkes this summer. The label said it was cursed. Katie must’ve touched it.”

“Where’d your friend get this necklace?” Tonks looked at the group of students. They all looked at the girl.

“That’s why we were arguing.” The girl started to shake, and Hermione put an arm around her. “She came back from the bathroom in the Three Broomsticks holding it, said it was a surprise for someone at Hogwarts and she had to deliver it. She looked all funny when she said it…. Oh! Oh no — she must have been Imperiused and I didn’t realize!”

“She didn’t say who’d given it to her, Leanne?” Hermione asked.

“No —” Leanne hiccuped on another sob. “She wouldn’t tell me. I said she — I said she was being stupid and not to take it up to the school, but she wouldn’t listen, and then I tried to grab it from her and —” Leanne let out another heaving sob and buried her face into her hands.

Tonks appreciated how calm Hermione, Ron, Neville, and Harry were as Hermione patted Leanne’s shoulder, and how carefully Harry and Neville examined the necklace. They had what it took to be Aurors, or maybe they’d just been through enough to make them that way.

Tonks took off her wet cloak and tossed it to Ron. The warm butterbeer had quickly grown cold, and Tonks thought she’d be better off with no cloak than a cold one. “Wrap it in this. Do not touch it — do you understand?”

Ron nodded solemnly and used her cloak to scoop up the necklace. “Why is it sticky?”

“Hippogriff piss,” Tonks said, and didn’t feel any urge to even smile at her own humor. “I need you to run on ahead and get that to Snape. It’ll help him treat Katie.”

Ron, though he looked pale, did not ask questions. He did as Tonks said and hurried on ahead.

“Come on,” Tonks said to the rest of them. “Let’s get out of this wind and get somewhere warm.”

Hermione kept her arm around Leanne’s shoulder as they walked up to the castle. Harry fell into step beside Tonks.

“Do you think Katie will be alright?” Harry asked as they trudged into the wind.

“I don’t know,” Tonks answered honestly. “You lot were in the Three Broomsticks just now, weren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me everyone who was in the Three Broomsticks.”

Harry frowned. “I dunno — Ron, Neville, Hermione, and me. A Slytherin from our class. A couple of warlocks… Katie and Leanne…. I dunno who else. It was kind of full with the weather so bad.”

“I thought Mad-Eye would’ve taught you better.”

“What do you mean?”

Had Tonks been her usual self, she would have scrunched up her face into her wizened mentor’s shape. As it was, she simply mimicked his voice. “Constant vigilance!”

Harry looked appropriately reprimanded. “I didn’t think about it in Hogsmeade. It’s so close to Hogwarts, I thought it was — I don’t know, safe?”

“Doesn’t matter where you are. How many times have you been attacked in places you’ve felt safe?”

Harry didn’t answer, and Tonks didn’t need him to. She could tell from his face it was a mistake he wouldn’t make again.

“I think it was Draco Malfoy,” he said suddenly.

Tonks raised an eyebrow at him. “You sound certain.”

“He saw the necklace in Borgin and Burkes this summer,” Harry said. “Remember I told you we tailed him?”

“You didn’t tell me he purchased something. You told me he bullied Borgin into repairing something for him.”

“Right but — he could’ve purchased it. Or he could’ve gone back and purchased it.”

“Did you see Malfoy in the Three Broomsticks?”

“No, but there were a lot of people there.”

“And you think a lot of people would not have noticed a young man in a Hogwarts uniform slip into the girls’ bathroom?”

Harry considered this. “Leanne didn’t say Katie got it in the bathroom, just on her way back from the bathroom.”

“Alright, that’s a fair point, but I’ve got one more question.”

“Okay.”

“Katie — she looked like she’s a sixth or seventh year?”

“Seventh.”

“She a good duelist?”

“Yeah. She was in the D.A. She’s on the Quidditch team, too, ever since she was in second year. Good reflexes.”

“You think if Malfoy so much as approached her in the girls’ bathroom or anywhere in the Three Broomsticks with his wand out she wouldn’t Stun him or even shout?”

Harry didn’t answer, as they climbed the steps into Hogwarts. Filch growled at them and waved his Secrecy Sensor, but McGonagall came running down the stairs and waved him away.

“Let them in, Filch,” she said. “My office, all of you.”

Tonks could not help but feel like a student again as she trooped into McGonagall’s office. Ron was already there, with Tonks’ wet and sticky coat draped over the back of a chair. The necklace was nowhere to be seen.

“Well!” McGonagall said, and shut her office door firmly behind her. “Hagrid says you are the ones who saw what happened. Mr Weasley, I hope you’ve caught your breath enough to tell us what’s happened.”

“Leanne’s the one who saw it all,” Ron said. He still sounded short of breath, and Tonks was proud of him for putting in so much effort.

Leanne, between sobs and hiccups, was able to tell McGonagall what she had told Tonks: Katie had entered the bathroom at the Three Broomsticks and come out with a strange parcel and acting very odd, and they’d argue over delivering the strange package, until they’d torn the package in their argument. At this point, Leanne became inconsolable, and neither McGonagall’s stern demands nor Hermione’s gentle coaxing could convince her to finish her story.

“Go up to the hospital wing, then, Leanne,” said McGonagall in a kinder voice than Tonks had ever heard from her, “and have Madam Pomfrey give you something for shock.”

Leanne rubbed her eyes and obediently left the office.

“What happened when Katie touched the necklace?” McGonagall asked. She was looking to Tonks for answers, but Tonks did not have any. She looked at Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Neville.

It was Harry who hurried to answer. “She rose up in the air,” he said, “and then began to scream, and collapsed. Professor, can I see Professor Dumbledore please?”

McGonagall frowned, clearly uninterested in this change in topic. “The headmaster is away until Monday, Potter.”

“Away?”

“Yes, Potter, away. But I assure you, we are in quite capable hands regardless. Now, is there anything else you have to say about today’s incident? I believe I am most needed in the hospital wing.”

“That’s about it, Professor,” said Tonks. “I’ll see these four back to their common room.”

“Thank you,” McGonagall hurried out of the office without another word. Tonks could see Harry burning with frustration, but she ignored it, instead looking at the Quidditch Cup sitting on a shelf in McGonagall’s office. She felt bitter at seeing it here, especially after so many years of Charlie Weasley crushing her team in Quidditch.

“Who do you reckon Katie was supposed to give the necklace to?” Ron asked as he handed Tonks her cloak.

Tonks shook her head. “I doubt we’ll know unless Katie can tell us.”

“Whoever it was has had a narrow escape,” said Hermione. “No one could have opened that package without touching the necklace.”

Tonks led the four Gryffindors out of McGonagall’s office and towards the stairs to Gryffindor tower.

“It could’ve been meant for loads of people,” said Harry. “Dumbledore — the Death Eaters would love to get rid of him. Or Slughorn — Dumbledore reckons Voldemort really wanted him and they can’t be pleased that he’s sided with Dumbledore. Or —”

“Or you,” Neville whispered.

Tonks raised an eyebrow, prepared to comfort Harry, but Harry only shrugged.

“Couldn’t have been, or Katie would’ve just turned around in the lane and given it to me, wouldn’t she? I was behind her all the way out of the Three Broomsticks. It would have made much more sense to deliver the parcel outside Hogwarts, what with Filch searching everyone who goes in and out. I wonder why Malfoy told her to take it into the castle?”

Tonks sighed. “Harry, the Malfoys have been searched as thoroughly as anyone has ever been searched. And I find it far more likely that a woman cursed Katie with the Imperius Curse and had her deliver the parcel.”

“He could’ve asked Pansy Parkinson,” Harry said.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Pansy couldn’t curse a toad to sing.”

“Whoever it was,” Ron said as they arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady, “wasn’t very slick, were they? The necklace didn’t even make it into the castle. Not what you’d call foolproof.”

“You’re right,” Hermione agreed. “It wasn’t very well thought out at all.”

Tonks examined each of the brave Gryffindors and considered her own Auror training. They all had the temperament for it, if nothing else. And they were asking all the right questions, the ones she’d been asking herself since she’d seen what had happened.

“What was it about the plan that went so wrong?” she asked them, curious to hear what they’d noticed.

“Even if Leanne hadn’t thought it strange, Filch would’ve caught the necklace with his Secrecy Sensor when they walked in,” said Neville.

“And no one’s really traveling alone these days,” said Hermione. “Someone like Leanne being suspicious was practically guaranteed.”

“Anyone could have opened the package,” said Ron. “Or like what happened — it opened accidentally and Katie got cursed.”

“The possibility for collateral damage was high, and the chance of success slim,” Tonks agreed. “So what does that tell us about the culprit?”

“Someone not very bright,” said Harry, “like Malfoy.”

Three pairs of eyes rolled in unison. Tonks sighed and shook her head.

“Not necessarily. What happened to Katie requires a certain level of skill. And brilliant people can make foolish mistakes. But it does tell us she’s definitely inexperienced. You four thought quickly today and reacted coolly in a stressful situation. That’s something to be proud of. Stay vigilant, alright?”

They each nodded and Hermione said, “Dilligrout.” The Fat Lady’s portrait swung open. Ron helped Hermione inside, then followed. Neville scrambled over the large step into the common room. Harry, though, hesitated.

Tonks thought he was going to give another argument for why Draco Malfoy had been the one to curse Katie, but instead he said, “How long are you staying at Hogwarts for?”

“As long as I can be useful. Mad-Eye should be here ‘round supper time. He might be a better help for Katie, but I’ll do what I can.”

“Are you… Are you going to see my parents at all tomorrow?”

Tonks wished she had control over her Metamorphmagus ability if only so she could hide the blush creeping up her neck. “I’m supposed to spend the night with your mother, actually. I hope she won’t worry too much if I’m late.”

“Oh — does that mean… does that mean he’s coming home tonight?”

“As far as I know, he’s planning to, yes.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, I hope so.”

“I’m glad someone can keep Mum company, too.”

“I’m happy to do it. Your Mum’s cool. You’re lucky, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Go on, before your friends worry that you’re having a tryst with a mature, older woman.”

Harry pantomimed searching high and low, and even peered around the Fat Lady’s portrait. “Huh. I don’t see one around.”

Tonks stuck her tongue out at him and playfully shoved him into the short tunnel into the Gryffindor common room.

—————————— ✶✶✶ ——————————

That night, when Mad-Eye relieved Tonks of her duty, she trudged back down the path to Hogsmeade. The wind had died down, but it was still bitterly cold, and she didn’t have a cloak. She had her butterbeer soaked cloak draped over one arm, and the only thing really protecting her from the cold was the knit scarf around her neck.

Though Tonks would have loved to stop in the Three Broomsticks for a proper warm butterbeer, to make up for the broken, dirty one, but she was expected at the Potters’ Hogsmeade cottage, and she didn’t dare delay any more than she already had filling Moody in on the events at Hogwarts.

Remus Lupin had not come home for the full moon at the end of August, but he had returned for September, of his own accord. Lily had said he was reluctant and sullen about it, but regardless, he’d finally come home.

Unfortunately, all of that bitterness and irritation that Remus brought home with him carried over into the full moon. It wasn’t just that he’d surprised Lily by showing up on their fireplace hearth an hour before sunset, asking if it was alright to stay the night. It wasn’t just that Lily had needed to put together a half-dozen potions on little notice. Whatever it was that Remus carried with him into the full moon had nearly ripped both him and James to shreds, and Lily, with the help of the Potters’ house-elves, had barely managed to keep the two of them alive.

So this month, she’d asked Tonks to help.

When Tonks reached the cottage, she knocked, and was surprised when one of the Potter house-elves answered. Tonks hadn’t really been properly introduced to them, but she thought this one was called Picksie.

“Miss Tonks!” the house-elf squeaked. “A moment —” The small elf squeezed her large, purple eyes closed and snapped her fingers. There was a blue spark, and Tonks felt a shock run from her head to her toes. She jumped back, startled, and fumbled for her wand.

The elf, however, opened her eyes and smiled. “It is you! Come in, come in.” She stepped aside and motioned for Tonks to enter. “Picksie has been practicing, detecting Polyjuices and hidden curses! But you is you, so come in, come in!”

Tonks could not help but smile as she walked in. Picksie’s pride in her success was contagious. “Impressive. House-elves might make better guards than trolls if they practice as hard as you.”

Tonks was not certain whether house-elves could blush — the only one she’d had any real interaction with had been Kreacher — but she thought that Picksie was glowing with pride.

“Thank you, Miss Tonks! You is very kind. Mistress Potter is in the kitchen, finishing a potion.”

Tonks let Picksie show her the way. She’d never actually been to the Potters’ cottage. She knew James had purchased it to be closer to Lily during her brief stint as a Hogwarts professor, but she wasn’t sure why they’d held onto it all these years. It certainly came in handy on a night like tonight, when their house was occupied by a bloodthirsty werewolf, and the Order’s headquarters were little more than a way-station for overworked Aurors these days. The life that had returned to Grimmauld Place when the Order had needed a London base had all but vanished after the Ministry was no longer the primary battle ground. Even Regulus wasn’t around as much. Tonks had heard he was on a special mission for Dumbledore, separate from the Order’s task, but she couldn’t recall who had said it to her.

Tonks didn’t find this cottage much more homely than Grimmauld Place as she looked around. The fireplace was empty, and the furniture was covered. It was clear that the Potters didn’t spend much time here.

The kitchen Picksie led her to was smaller than Styncon Garden’s, which said a lot, considering that their kitchen there was not especially large, not compared with homes like Grimmauld Place or the Burrow. There was enough room for a woodstove and a hand-pump sink. It seemed that James hadn’t been looking for grandeur or comfort when he’d bought the house. He’d only been looking for somewhere close to Lily.

Lily stood over the wood fire, waving her wand over a cauldron. Picksie waited in the doorway until Lily had finished her spell and used her wand to siphon the potion into a bottle before announcing Tonks.

“Mistress Potter — Miss Tonks is arrived. Picksie is doing the checking of her myself. Miss Tonks is who Miss Tonks says.”

Lily smiled. “Thank you, Picksie. I don’t know what I’d do without your help. Tonks can help me with the last of the Blood-Replenishing Potions. Why don’t you check on Mellie and get some rest?”

Picksie bowed and disappeared with a pop.

“Is Mellie alright?” Tonks asked.

“She’s old, and more and more tired these days…. But we all are, so maybe it’s nothing.” Lily corked the bottle of thick red liquid and set it into a box. “One more should do the trick. I wish I could brew these in advance, but they only last about forty-two hours, and I never know how much I’ll need.”

“Depends on his mood, doesn’t it? How was he tonight?”

“Better with Sirius gone, I think.” Lily rubbed her eyes and leaned against the sink. “You haven’t heard from Sirius or Emmeline, have you?”

“I read his report about two weeks ago. It seemed like they had a lead.”

“I’m just worried that she threw herself back into the field too soon after her recovery… and for Sirius to take a mission that would take him so far from us for so long….”

Tonks worried, too. But she had a feeling Sirius had run to give Remus less excuses. The last thing he’d said to her in July had been, “Whatever I’ve been doing to help him hasn’t worked in all the years I’ve known him. Maybe I’ve mucked up too many times to make it right. I don’t know….”

Lily stared at the fire as it slowly burned itself out. The dim, flickering light danced in her green eyes, and it made it hard for Tonks to tell if she was near tears or not. “If Sirius isn’t back next month, he’ll miss Harry’s Quidditch game.”

“No one ever said any of this would be easy,” said Tonks.

“No, but I don’t understand why Remus has to make it harder on everyone.” Lily shook her head. “Sorry — I know that isn’t fair to say. I just….”

Tonks knew what she meant, though. They couldn’t blame Remus for going through something difficult, any more than Tonks could blame herself for not being able to use her Metamorphmagus ability. They each had their own boggarts to confront, and all of it happening in the middle of a war only made things more difficult on everyone.

So Tonks didn’t press Lily to explain. She simply began to help clean up the cauldron Lily had abandoned on the fire. She wasn’t the best at cleaning, and she fumbled each time Lily handed her a glass vial, but Tonks did her best to help Lily prepare another bottle of Blood-Replenishing Potion. Lily didn’t seem interested in talking while they worked, and that was okay. Tonks focused herself on the task at hand, making sure not to break anything or accidentally drop anything into the potion. She wasn’t entirely sure how she’d passed Potions at N.E.W.T. level with her consistent clumsiness, other than through sheer determination to become an Auror.

When the potion was safely sealed and labeled, Tonks put it in the box with the others. There was one potion glowing light blue — a fresh batch of Burning Bitterroot Balm, she guessed — and the rest were red potions with dates and times scrawled on them, going back to noon yesterday.

Lily made them a quick cup of tea, using her wand to heat the water instantly. Tonks took a moment to be in awe of Lily, who seemed a master of the house-keeping charms that had eluded Tonks, Potions, which had always been a challenge, and dueling, which was the only thing Tonks had ever shown a talent for. Tonks had spent her life mastering one thing and working hard to be passable at others; Lily seemed to have it all under control. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d told Harry his mum was cool.

“Thanks again for helping me.” Lily led Tonks back into the sitting room and pulled a cover off of the sofa so that they could sit. “It’s nice not to sit up alone, praying everyone’s alright.”

Tonks carried the warm mugs, and was careful not to spill as she handed one to Lily. “I think you’re doing me a favour just as much. It’s nice to know that I can do a little something for him, even if it isn’t a lot, even if he won’t talk to me.”

Lily used her wand to light the fireplace, then curled herself up into the corner of the sofa, hands wrapped tightly around her mug. “I can’t understand it, really. But I’ve never been good at understanding Remus.”

“I thought you two were close.”

“Close, yes — we tell each other almost everything. We spent a lot of time together as prefects. I almost made him my chief bridesmaid,” she laughed, “but I don’t understand him. I was rather harsh with him last July.” Lily blew on her tea and took a sip. Her gaze was not on Tonks as she spoke; she seemed to be staring at something much farther away.

“I didn’t know about his condition until our seventh year. I’d always assumed he understood what I was going through because he had a Muggle mother. I’d never dreamed it was because he knew better than I did what it was to be persecuted by wizards. But I always fought to prove myself. I was loud, angry, and maybe not willing to hex someone who mocked me, but I’d certainly outshine them in class. Remus was always quiet, secretive, and avoided people as much as he could. If he hadn’t been roommates with Sirius and James, or at least with people like them, I don’t know that he would’ve ever made friends.”

“It’s a bit different, though, isn’t it?” said Tonks. She flinched as she took a sip of tea and found it still too hot. “I just mean — being Muggle-born. You had ten years at least of a normal life.”

“I suppose. Though I always knew I was a witch. I had… a friend who was a wizard, who knew all about Hogwarts. But he never — well, while we were children — he never did treat me differently because I was Muggle-born. I suppose Remus never knew anything like that, not until he met James and Sirius. But we’ve all been friends for twenty-five years now. And I know what he goes through isn’t easy, but I’m so tired of him tearing himself up over it. I don’t know how to make him understand that we love him, not despite what he is but including what he is.” Lily closed her eyes and leaned her head against the back of the sofa.

Tonks ran her thumb along the edge of her mug. She took a moment to let the steam warm her face before blowing on her tea and taking a sip. It didn’t hurt so badly as her first sip, but maybe she’d just burned the feeling out of her tongue. “Sirius says he’s just using the werewolf bit as an excuse so he doesn’t have to deal with his feelings.”

Lily hummed in agreement. “I’m sure that’s part of it. James described you as a catalyst, and I think that’s the best way to put it.”

“I don’t want to be anything — I just want to be me. And part of being me is loving him. But that part of me is making it harder to be myself, to be the person I know that I am.” Tonks bit down on her lip, realizing her words were heading dangerously close to thoughts she had been trying so desperately to avoid.

“Love changes us.” Lily’s smile was fond and distant. “You should’ve seen the way it changed James. I changed, too. James made me learn patience and humility, two things I’d never bothered with before. The love that makes you better is the one you want to keep around.”

Tonks was not sure she had changed for the better, at least not in these last six months. She liked spending time with Remus. She thought he made her more empathetic, more considerate, and more careful. Lately, though, she wasn’t happy with the ways she’d changed. She didn’t joke the way she used to, and she knew the loss of her Metamorphmagus abilities was an unfortunate effect. She supposed those losses weren’t because of her relationship with Remus, but because of how he had shut her out.

“What do you do when parts of him are good for you and other parts aren’t?”

Lily was quiet. Tonks wondered if she’d fallen asleep, and her question had gone unheard. She thought if she closed her eyes for even a moment, she might slip away too.

But then Lily said, “I think that’s why relationships are hard work.”

Tonks added emotional wisdom to the list of things Lily excelled at.

Tonks watched the fire as it slowly burnt out, intent on keeping a vigil all night, but at some point, Lily was shaking her shoulder gently. Tonks looked out of the window to find gray daylight creeping in. She stretched and groaned, stiff and sore from sitting on the sofa for so long. It was a familiar feeling after a life full of naps in odd places.

“Time to go already?”

“Just about.” Lily’s eyes were rimmed red and puffy. Her long red hair was a tangled mess. Tonks decided that she had no interest in looking at her own reflection.

They gathered up the potions and the house-elves. Tonks belatedly remembered her broom was still tucked away in Madam Rosmerta’s shed, but there would not be time to grab it. There was no telling what state Remus and James would be in. She just had to hope it would go unnoticed a bit longer.

Picksie, as a house-elf, had the ability to Apparate into Styncon Garden, and Tonks found it incredibly convenient, having made several uncomfortable Floo trips herself. She disliked traveling by Floo. She was always nervous that she would step into the wrong sitting room. Apparating was far more efficient.

Picksie’s ability also allowed her to Apparate around the grounds of Styncon Garden, which meant they did not have to waste time looking for James and Remus. Picksie was able to check the grounds quickly and return them to the kitchen for Tonks and Lily to treat immediately. With a pop, the house-elf was gone, and with another, she had returned to the kitchen with two very beat up and bloodied men.

As they had discussed beforehand, Lily prioritized the bite marks in James, and Tonks was to heal as many of Remus’s injuries as she could.

What caught her attention first were several punctures in his chest and abdomen that dripped blood. What worried her more than the blood was the way Remus gasped for air. Something, whatever it was that had gored him — Tonks couldn’t imagine what — had probably punctured a lung. Or if it hadn’t, any internal bleeding could be pressing on his lungs and even keeping his heart from beating properly. He may have had both a punctured lung and internal bleeding, judging by the pair of dark purple, heart-shaped bruises on Remus’s chest. Quickly, Tonks ran her wand over Remus’s abdomen, focused first on repairing the deepest of his wounds. Blue light pulsed at the tip of her wand, and she concentrated on that combination of Charms and Transfiguration that made up the root of healing magic. Her father’s voice filled her mind, reminding her of the basics of healing injuries. “The body wants to be fixed, and knows what to do; you’re just helping it along,” he had always said.

She did not have a lot of experience with internal wounds, and found it challenging to work on what she could not see, but she trusted in her own skill, and when his breathing was no longer strangled gasps, she dragged her wand over each of his external wounds, drawing blood away from cavities and knitting together open veins.

Once the immediate danger was settled, and she was certain Remus’s heart and lungs were working appropriately, she took an assessment of everything else. He seemed to have several misaligned joints, which Tonks thought odd injuries, but they were easy enough to set straight. There were also several superficial cuts and scrapes that she left alone, and three breaks in one of his legs that she set, but did not heal for fear of overtaxing his body. When she was confident she had done all that she could, she Levitated his body into the sitting room.

The last time Tonks had been to Styncon Garden, the sitting room had served as a make-shift hospital room for Remus and Sirius, and it looked as if it had not changed. Lily had thrown down towels and padding over both the floor and the furniture, then covered the entire room in white sheets.

Tonks gently set Remus down on the sofa and pressed the back of her hand to his cheek. He was cold and clammy. She hurried back into the kitchen, careful to step around Picksie and Lily, who were still at work on James — Tonks glimpsed a deep bite mark in his stomach as Picksie lifted a cloth so Lily could drip dittany over the wound — and dug a Blood-Replenishing Potion out from the box. She hurried back to Remus’s side and woke him just enough to get him to drink. Some of the potion spilled as she uncorked the bottle, staining the white sheets with bright red blooms, but Tonks had not expected to be perfect at this. She hadn’t been doing this for years the way Lily had.

Once Remus had finished the potion, with minimal loss down his chin, Tonks helped him lay back down. His eyes closed and he immediately slipped back into sleep. Not only was the transformation itself taxing, and running around at night exhausting, Tonks had needed to draw on his body’s own stores of energy for the healing. It was likely that he would be asleep for a while.

Tonks turned to help Lily, only to find Picksie lifting James with her own wandless magic and setting him down on a set of cushions not far from the sofa Remus rested on. Lily was two steps behind her, uncorking a Blood-Replenishing Potion. “Tonks, please get me another one,” she said, and Tonks rushed to follow instructions.

By the time Tonks returned with another potion, Lily had already gotten James to drink the first one without spilling a drop. Tonks made sure to uncork the second one before handing it to Lily. She thought she saw tear streaks on Lily’s face, which startled her, but she forgot as James coughed and spluttered.

“Hold him still, please —”

Tonks rushed forward and helped hold James’s shoulders still. She realized she was staring at the scarred half of his face and quickly focused on Lily instead.

“No,” he mumbled, half-awake. “I can’t do another —”

“James, please, you lost so much blood.”

It took a bit more coaxing, but Lily was able to convince James to finish the second bottle. Tonks helped him lay back down and pulled a blanket over him. Lily recorked the bottle and pushed herself back to her feet, but James grabbed her hand.

“Lily —”

She knelt back down and squeezed his hand.

“Lily, I can’t do another full moon. Not with him like this. Not without Sirius.”

“I know,” she said. She brushed some of his dark, messy hair out of his face and tears fell from her cheeks onto his. “We’ll talk to them both. We’ll make it work.”

Tonks looked away, embarrassed to be intruding on this private moment. She did not know what had happened during September’s full moon, but she knew that in July, Sirius had been the one to take the brunt of Remus’s anger, and James had largely been unscathed. She wondered if something had changed between them, or if James had simply become a surrogate for Remus’s anger.

Her eyes caught on something familiar on the mantelpiece. There, tucked among photographs of James and Lily, Remus and Sirius, and Harry, was a wand. Curiosity seized practicality and Tonks crossed the room to examine it more closely. She estimated it was just over ten inches, with a darkly polished handle, and a fine twist to the wood before it tapered off into the end of the wand.

“It’s Remus’s,” Lily said softly.

Tonks turned. Lily was still seated at James’s side, holding his hand, but James appeared to be asleep. Lily wiped her cheeks with the heel of her free hand.

“Remus left it here last May.”

“I thought he broke his wand dueling Bellatrix.”

“Yes, his first wand. He got a new one when Barty Crouch stole his wand a few years ago, the one you’re holding now. He used it for about a year, until Regulus took his old wand back when he killed Barty. It was that one he was using to duel Bellatrix. He never did care for the replacement wand, and hasn’t picked it up since his duel. Says he doesn’t need it when he’s talking to other werewolves.”

“Doesn’t he Apparate?”

“I suppose he doesn’t.”

Tonks set the wand back down carefully beside the jar of Floo powder. Lily extricated her hand from James’s with similar care.

“Watch them for me, will you?” Lily asked. “I’m going to help Picksie take care of the kitchen. I think James left half his blood in the floorboards.”

“Is it always this bad?” Tonks asked.

Lily shook her head. “I think it’s a lot harder, not just because Sirius is gone, and what that means to the both of them but — well, I think simply it is much harder for a deer to manage a wolf than for a dog to manage a wolf.”

Tonks suddenly understood all of Remus’s wounds. She imagined what it must have been like for James, who maintained his reasonable senses during the full moon, to have to corral a wolf in the body of a prey animal, to know he could defend himself but not in any way that might injure Remus too terribly until it was nearly sunrise, and help would be on the way. Tonks could see why he was so desperate to not let another full moon pass in this fashion.

She walked back to Remus’s side and settled herself into the small space between him and James, listening to their steady breathing. Though she knew Remus had passed a violent night, and those violent feelings were still trapped inside of him, he looked peaceful like this. Worn down in the corners of his eyes and in the grey in his hair, and gaunt just hours after a transformation, but peaceful. There was a thin scar that split his lower lip in two, and a striking set of stripes across his nose, but she did not think they made him any less attractive. She’d always been intrigued by her cousin’s best friend, this man who was quiet, respectful, and yet had somehow managed to capture the attention of someone as wild and loud as Sirius Black.

Remus’s breathing changed, and Tonks was pulled from her reverie. She pressed two fingers against Remus’s neck and checked his pulse. It was steady. She let out a sigh of relief, and, just to be sure, took her wand and ran it over his chest again. She saw no sign that anything had torn or open, felt no injury she had not repaired. Her own heartbeat slowed as she realized Remus was alright.

Then his eyes fluttered open and her heart rate picked up once more. They were green like Lily’s though not as striking, and they seemed strangely unfocused. They settled onto Tonks’s eyes and she wondered for a moment what colour they were. Were they her more usual warm brown? Had they settled into her mother’s grey eyes? Were they something else entirely? Something out of her control?

“Well this is a cruel trick,” Remus whispered, and smiled wryly.

Tonks’ mind whirred like a Snitch desperate to be free of a Seeker’s grasp, but she found no answer, no way to interpret the strange words and expression. Remus only made it worse as he reached up and pressed his hand to her cheek.

“I always knew I hated myself but I didn’t think I’d punish myself with a vision of you with his face.”

Before Tonks could protest that she was not a vision and that this was her face, just her unaffected face, Remus pulled her close and kissed her.

He tasted like blood. He smelled like morning dew. She had not expected to feel the raised scar on his lower lip, but she did. For a moment — the briefest of moments — she closed her eyes and allowed herself to believe this was real, and that she wasn’t going to pretend, for his sake, that he truly had been dreaming.

She pulled herself away and swallowed down the tears that swelled in her throat. “You should rest,” she said.

“You won’t be here when I wake up,” he protested.

“No,” she said. “I won’t.”

Despite her honesty, it seemed that the brief attempt at wakefulness was all he had, and he returned to his proper dreams. Tonks wondered if she would continue to feature in them. It was unfortunate she had never mastered Legilimency. There had been a special course for Aurors, but it required the steadiness of a one-track mind. Tonks may have been stubborn enough to succeed at difficult challenges, but focusing on one thing alone was too much for her.

Which is why her mind was still spinning down several different paths, spiraling out of control. Remus had kissed her. He had not thought she was Sirius. He had not thought she was someone else. He had known who she was, and had only noted she looked like a Black, that she looked like Sirius. He had known who she was and he had kissed her.

But he had thought it was a dream. Did it make a difference?

She wondered if that moment was the only one she would ever get.

She wondered if that moment made everything better or worse.

“Everything alright?” Lily asked. “Tonks?”

Tonks still had her wand on Remus’s chest. Though her mind was running at a hundred miles an hour, she had not moved an inch.

“Fine,” she said, though she could feel the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She shoved her wand into her pocket and rubbed her eyes until she did not feel like she was about to break. “He’s alright — I just had a little…. It was nothing.”

“Why don’t you get some rest? You’ve got to go back to Hogwarts soon, don’t you?”

“Twelve on, twelve off,” she sighed. She was supposed to be there by nine in the morning, but Mad-Eye had made her swear not to come back until noon. She’d overworked her shift to make sure Katie was cared for, and he’d made her promise to take her entire break. She checked her watch. It was nearly eight am now. She might have fallen asleep on her feet or curled up under the portrait of Sir Cadogan if she’d had to be at the castle by nine.

“I have a few hours,” she said.

“I made a room ready for you yesterday, just in case.”

“Thanks.”

Lily warned her to skip the fourth step on her way upstairs. Tonks thought remembering on her way up was simple enough. Remembering on her way back down would be harder.

Tonks collapsed into bed, not even positive it was the right bed. She could be in Harry’s bed for all she knew, but she didn’t care. Even her worries over Remus vanished when her head hit the pillow, and she knew nothing but sleep.

When her pocketwatch alarm did finally chirp at her, reminding her it was time to return to Hogwarts, the warm afternoon sun was spilling over the bed. It was warm, and she did not want to leave it for the brisk wind of Hogsmeade. Why did Hogwarts have to be so far north anyway?

But she had a job to do. Tonks pulled herself out of bed with a lot of grunting and groaning and stumbled downstairs. She skipped the fourth step largely by accident, after nearly tripping over the fifth, and returned to the sitting room.

Lily was there, but she had fallen asleep on the floor, not far from where James had been laying. She did not see James, but she noted that the door to James and Lily’s bedroom was open. She was glad James was awake and on his feet. She ought to be polite and say goodbyes, but she didn’t want to disturb any of them.

That, of course, all fell apart when she reached for the Floo Powder and dropped it to the floor. The ceramic bowl crashed into the stone hearth and Tonks swore under her breath. It was easy enough to repair, but the damage had been done. She heard movement behind her, the rustling of sheets. She prayed it was Lily. Her prayers went unheard.

“Tonks?” Remus said in a quiet, groggy voice. It was such a raw tone, and Tonks wished he would repeat her name that way over and over again. That prayer went unheard, too.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

As she scooped Floo into the newly fixed jar, she reminded herself not to turn around. She could not let him see her face. She could not let him realise his mistake.

“I just came to make sure you were alright,” she said. “Sirius and the Potters aren’t the only ones who get to worry about you.”

He was quiet as she replaced the jar of Floo Powder on the mantle. She told herself not to turn around. She told herself to throw the powder in and just go. He was alright, he was awake, and she did not need him to know that he had really kissed her. It would only hurt him.

“You shouldn’t.”

“Shouldn’t what? Shouldn’t be here?”

“You shouldn’t care.” It was such a vulnerable whisper, Tonks wondered if he still thought he was dreaming.

“But I do,” she said, with as much of her own vulnerability as she could muster.

“Well don’t,” he snapped.

Remus was the most reasonable and empathetic person Tonks had ever met, but in this one thing he was proving to be so unreasonably stubborn. She couldn’t understand how he could tell her to simply stop caring, when surely he, of all people, knew how little control you had over who you fell in love with.

She turned around, and it brought her no joy to see his tired, defeated face slacken into shock then twist into horror as he saw the proud Black family cheekbones and her strong jawline, so like Sirius’s. She knew the horror was not at how she looked but at the realisation of what he’d done.

“Fine,” she said. “If you don’t want to talk like adults, we won’t talk like adults. When you’ve decided that you’re ready to be friends again, and actually talk to me like another human being, let me know.” Tonks threw the Floo Powder into the fireplace and stepped through the green flames into the Potters’ cottage in Hogsmeade. She let the cold, brisk wind dry her tears as she continued her solitary walk back up to Hogwarts castle.

#harry potter and the half-blood prince #nymphadora tonks #remus lupin #harry potter everyone lives au #hp everyone lives #hbp

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sunshine--temptress · 5 years

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First, Tumblr is glitching (what's new?) and don't let people answer so I took a screenshot of the ask

Second, Anon I REALLY REALLY hope you will see this and that you will like it. I am so sorry it took me forever to write it. I hit one of the biggest writer's block ever and yesterday I was finally able to finalize this fic so here it is 😊

°•°•°•°

Niall had been craving coffee and an almond croissant all morning, unfortunately for him his flat was devoid of food as he had just ended up his tour and had been living on take out for the past few days, not in the mood to cook for himself yet. After procrastinating for the most part of his day, watching old game of golf he had made sure to record while he was on tour, he decided to hop in the shower.

Finally feeling a bit more awake and ready to face other human beings, Niall ordered an Uber. Niall spent the drive to the coffee shop in silence, not feeling like making small talk with the driver. Thankfully the driver, Andrew according to the app, wasn't the chatty type. Niall liked a few golf posts on Instagram and answered to one of Lewis' tweets.

When the driver stopped in front of the coffee shop Niall asked him to wait since it would only take a few minutes. Niall hoped it would really only take a few minutes. He never knew if he was going to meet fans and talked to them and take pictures. He loved it, it was part of the job but he genuinely enjoyed meeting fans on the streets and talk to them but today he was tired and not really feeling like talking to anyone.

Niall walked inside and noticed the place was practically empty, a guy sitting alone in the corner in front of his laptop lifted his head and clearly recognized Niall. He shot him a small smile, Niall nodded back, and the guy turned his head back to his laptop. There were only two people in front of him when Niall got in line to order.

When it was his turn Niall was happy to see his favourite barista behind the counter, she was very sweet and seemed to be able to catch up on Niall's mood when he didn't wanna talk, like today. Niall knew she wouldn't try to start a conversation. Other day he didn't mind and they often talked for a few minutes, next to the counter. She was also very discreet and Niall had never seen bits of their conversations pop on Twitter, not that he was telling her secrets or anything worth sharing...When she spotted Niall she smiled brightly and greeted him with her usual enthusiasm.

"Hi Niall, your usual?"

"No, I'll just have a tall black coffee and an almond croissant, please. I've been craving one since I woke up," replied Niall smiling.

"Perfect, that'll be £5,60".

Niall fished for his wallet in his back pocket of his jeans and gave her a tenner, dropping the change in the tip jar on the counter. She turned around to prepare Niall's order and Niall moved to the side in case another customer walked to the counter. Niall's phone vibrated in his hands, startling him. It was a message from Harry and Niall smiled at his phone. He unlocked the screen to read the message.

"Are you busy?"

"No, waitin for my coffee" replied Niall, smiling when Harry answered just as fast.

"Where are you?"

"Baker & Spice on Clifton rd"

The barista gave Niall his coffee and croissants in a small paper bag and wished him a good day. Niall smiled and wished her the same.

"Car?"

"Uber ! Didn't felt like driving"

"Don't move, i'm comin to get ya!"

"My uber ?"

"Tell him to leave"

"You close ?"

"5 mins"

Niall closed his phone and put it back in his pocket. He took a sip of his coffee and sighed. After craving it all morning his coffee tasted even more delicious than usual. Niall walked outside to where the driver had parked a few minutes ago. The driver had gotten out of his car and was leaning against it, looking at his phone.

"Did I made you wait for that long?" Niall asked even if he was sure he had been inside the coffee shop for less than 10 minutes.

"No, don't worry. I just get restless when I am not driving so I usually get out of my car and walk around it or play a game on my phone while I wait," replied the driver, making Niall laugh, "Are you ready to go?" he added.

"Actually no, a friend texted me and said he was just around the corner and he would come and get me so I am setting you free," said Niall, smiling kindly, "a friend texted me and he's just around the corner."

"Ya've got to be kidding me?" said Niall, trying to catch his breath from laughing so much, when a car honked behind him. Niall straightened up and turned his head to see Harry waving at him.

"Looks like my ride's here, thanks for keeping me company."

"It was no problem, really, your company is very enjoyable," said Andrew, his cheeks going slightly red.

"Thank you, likewise."

"Listen it might seem a bit weird or forward and I won't be offended if you say no but can I give you my number. I'm not asking for yours because I understand that in your situation giving out your phone number to a stranger may be not the safest thing and-"

"You're cute when you ramble," interrupted Niall and put his hand on Andrew's forearm, "I'd love to have your number."

Niall fished his phone from his back pocket and gave it to Andrew when Harry honked again. Niall rolled his eyes, Harry was usually more patient than that.

"Yes, yes, I'm coming Harry two seconds," Niall shouted over his shoulder before turning his attention toward Andrew again.

"You can put your number in my phone, I'll text ya' later."

"Great," said Andrew has he entered his digit in Niall's phone and gave it back to him.

Niall pocketed back his phone and waved goodbye to Andrew when he climbed into Harry's car.

"Sorry, didn't want to make you wait."

Harry shrugged and started driving without saying a word. He drove in silence until he reached Niall's house.

"You're being weird Haz, what is goin' on?"

"Nothing," answered Harry as he cut off the engine and got out of the car, not waiting for Niall. Niall followed him and unlocked the front door letting Harry in after him.

"You asked me if I wanted to hang out, remember? Now your giving me the silent treatment. I don't understand," said Niall walking toward his kitchen Harry in tow. Niall sat on one side of the counter, Harry already sitting in front of him.

"He seemed nice, he was cute," said Harry, ignoring Niall's question.

Niall arched an eyebrow, "Yes he is cute, he loves golf. That's what we were talking about," said Niall even if didn't have to explain anything to Harry.

"Made you laugh a lot."

"Yes he did, he's funny," answered Niall, getting annoyed by Harry's behavior, "what's the problem Harry?"

"You had your hand on his arm and you were doing your laugh," exclaimed Harry.

"My laugh? What are you on about, Haz?"

"Your 'me' laugh okay, it was your 'me' laugh," answered Harry, his voice suddenly small and his eyes were trained on his hands on the counter.

"Wait, wait, wait, are you jealous?" Niall asked in disbelief. Harry had absolutely no right to be jealous. They were not together, not anymore. Harry had lost his jealous "privilege" a long time ago. Niall had finally came to terms with the idea that Harry would never be completely his. Harry had been his first real love, first real heartbreak. Niall even went and recorded an entire album about it. But now it was in the past, they were able to hang out and be friends, something they had never really been before. They went from strangers to lovers real fast they never had time to just be friends. But now they were and Niall wouldn't let Harry's stupid burst of jealousy ruin this.

"I'm not jealous."

"No? Then explain why you're acting like a jealous twat!"

"I'm just being a nice friend."

"A nice friend? How?"

"I want you to be safe, you don't know him."

"That's what dates are for, learning to know people."

Harry groaned and pushed his chair back. He left Niall confused still sitting at the counter. Niall got up and followed Harry in the living room.

"So you're really doing this? You will go on a date with him?" asked Harry without looking at Niall when Niall sat next to him on the couch.

"Maybe."

"What if I don't want you to?"

Niall was getting more and more confused by the second. Harry was acting weird and Niall had gotten his hopes up to often when it came to Harry, he refused to do it again and believe that maybe Harry was feeling the same. Because as much as Niall wanted to bury his feelings for Harry by dating other people, they were always there.

"You have no control or power over what I can do or not Harry."

Harry turned his body, folding his long legs under him, and faced Niall. Gently he took Niall's hands in his and Niall knew he shouldn't let him do this, he knew.

"What if I don't want you to?" repeated Harry, this time looking at Niall in the eyes.

Niall swallowed thickly and licked his lips.

"Give me one good reason and maybe I'll think about it."

Niall watched Harry's face getting closer to his and his breath caught in his throat. Harry let got of Niall's hands and gently cradled Niall's face in his large palm, his thumb gently stroking Niall's cheek. He licked his lips and Niall saw Harry looking at his lips and then his eyes again. Niall moved his hand up and tangled his fingers in Harry's short hair at the back of his head. Niall knew he should take a step back, he should back up and not doing whatever what was going on now. It was a stupid idea. Harry brought his face even closer, their lips were a few millimeters apart and Niall could feel Harry's warm breath hit his lips. When Harry finally closed the distance between their mouth, Niall exhaled loudly, parting his lips slightly. Harry's lips were soft and warm, just as Niall remembered them. Niall moaned into the kiss when Harry slipped his tongue in his mouth. Niall tightened his grip in Harry's hair, keeping him as close as he could. Harry's kisses were intoxicating, they always been.

"What are you doing?" asked Niall when he broke the kiss.

Harry pressed kissed to the corner of his mouth, to his cheek, his jaw until he reached Niall's neck.

"I am kissing you," he replied between the kissed.

"We need to talk."

"Later, now I just wanna kiss you. I missed his, I missed you," answered Harry before capturing Niall's lips in another bruising kiss.

Later...Niall knew he should put his foot down but he had missed kissing Harry too, later would have to do.

#Niall Horan #Harry Styles #Narry #narry fanfiction #ficlet #my writing

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huangels · 6 years

Text

the universe works in mysterious ways - haechan

a/n: happy birthday to the shining sun, haechan!! this scenario is dedicated for hyuckie’s bday but it’s not june 6th anymore in korea but in america it is so-,, i didn’t expect this to be so long sorry dkshdh. i’m making a tag for birthday dedicated fics btw, (also i wanted it to be all in haechan’s POV butttt it didn’t turn out well so it’s half and half)

summary: Haechan bumps into you at the cafe you work in, and grows fond of you so he visits more often. Every visit is full of shining smiles and glowing eyes, until one night, he trudges in with a gloomy storm cloud above him.

genre: fluff, if you squint there might be light angst?

warnings: none

word count: 3.1k

[ HC's POV ]

The buzzing small cafe is filled wall to wall with people. As expected, since it is breakfast time. Haechan is lucky enough to get there earlier than the breakfast rush hour to find an empty small table near the corner. At least, the table is by the window (he likes to people watch).

Haechan's next class doesn't start until noon, so he has time to relax and study his notes, mostly out of spite (his friend Mark says he crams studying before an exam). His laptop, every inch of the back filled with random stickers, is spread out across his small round table, along with his textbooks full of stick notes and notebooks. It isn't that Haechan is a bad or inadequate student who doesn't take notes, he's just a professional procrastinator. While his eyes skim through his bullet-pointed notes, he feels the on-building regret of waking up 4 hours before his first class of the day just to study in the chatty and stuffed cafe.

Haechan debates on whether he should get up and stand in the lengthy line to wait for a large cup of caffeine. Although, his head unknowingly falling from his hand and almost hitting the table answers his question. To save his table, Haechan places his red backpack on his seat, making sure his valuables are hidden from prying hands (his computer closed and hidden under an opened textbook and his phone safely in his pocket).

Though the line is long, looping around the small range of the cafe, the employees work fast to cater to everyone's orders. In no time, Haechan reaches the front of the line.

In place of his friend, Mark, who is usually working behind the cashier in the mornings, stands a new face. A very attractive new face.

"Good morning! What would you like?" you ask, meeting the slightly wide-eyed Haechan. The friendly smile that spreads across your face causes Haechan's heart to speed up, losing track of how long he's been staring at you. Not wanting to come off as creepy, Haechan shakes his head away from the distractions that are you. His usual order (a large caramel latte with whipped cream and a cherry) is on the tip of his tongue, but he freezes before it leaves his mouth.

What if my usual order seems too childish? Haechan thinks mentally. He doesn't want you to think he's younger than he is, ordering the sugariest drink in the cafe, especially since the customers previously in front of him ordered dark coffees and shots of espressos. Remembering the order of the student before you, Haechan decides to change his order, just for today (hell, maybe he'll actually like it).

"A large - Americano," Haechan orders, dubiously. You press a few buttons on the screen attached to the cashier on the counter.

"For here or to go?"

"H-here."

"Okay, that'll be $4.79."

Haechan digs his pockets for his wallet, pulling out a five dollar bill. You ring up the bill before grabbing the exact change, holding it out with the receipt. Haechan involuntarily swallows while he grabs the change. As he comes into contact with your hands, his fingers feel like putty. He retracts fast, stuffing his hand into his front pocket to drop the change.

"Your drink will be with you in a moment," you inform him, then calling next. Haechan trudges back to his seat, thankfully still untouched. He removes his hand from his pocket, sure that it is melting on the spot.

Knock it out, you weirdo, Haechan hits the side of his head lightly. He looks down at his notes once more, trying to distract him from that fact that he's found his true love (Mark always says he's way too overdramatic, in which Haechan dramatically reacts by shoving him away).

His mind is filled with information about the British colonial system, when a beige plate with a matching large mug is placed next to his notebooks. Haechan looks up to quickly thank the waiter until he is lost for words once again. His eyes beeline to the cashier and standing behind the counter, taking orders, is Mark. Haechan's eyes return to yours, still as wide as ever.

"Hey, if you don't mind me asking, why did you order an Americano when you usually order a latte?" you wonder, carrying the metal plater to deliver the mug behind your back. Haechan's mouth becomes dry from holding it open for too long.

"Oh - erm - because I just wanted to...try something new, yeah," he answers after regaining his state. "Wait, how did you know?"

"I usually work behind the counter making drinks. But since it is so busy right now, we had to call in more workers, so today I'm a waitress."

"Then why were you behind the counter earlier?"

A faint blush paints the tips of your cheeks but you shift your head so your hair covers it as you peer to the ground. You toy with the platter behind your back, "Mark - he had to get something from the back...so I took over for a few orders."

Haechan isn't sure if you're telling the truth or not, since your voice is so quiet and the bustling cafe isn't helping. But he lets it slide, afraid that if he opens his mouth to interrogate, he might say something embarrassing or uncomfortable.

"Oh well thanks for the coffee," Haechan says instead, holding it up before bringing the rim to his parted lips. It's burning hot, no doubt, but the mixture of espresso and water with barely any milk to diffuse the bitterness causes Haechan's face to twist in a peculiar way. A laugh escapes from your mouth as you use your free hand to cover it (Haechan thought it was adorable). Before you walk back to the counter, Haechan catches a glimpse of your name tag, Y/N.

He'll be sure to remember that for next time.

And sure enough, he does. Haechan frequents the cafe you work at almost every day before and after his classes. He even goes as far as waking up hours before he usually sleeps until, to visit you. With his progressive visits, Haechan gets the chance to talk to you more, getting to know you little by little, and he grows fond of you.

[ Your POV ]

It's a Thursday evening, not many customers as it is the end of spring semester and everyone is home with family or out on vacation. The only people left in the cafe are students taking summer courses, trying to stock up on caffeine in order to finish up assignments and exams. You wipe the empty tables, getting rid of crumbles or coffee spills. Soon enough, the cafe empties out once the clock hits 10 PM, the students packing up and heading back to their dorms or such. You're now alone in the abandoned cafe, not even other employees are working since you're the only one that signed up for the night shift for tonight.

As you mindlessly clean around the shop, you wonder how Haechan is doing (he seems to be on your mind a lot recently). He visited earlier today, around noon, but there appeared to be something bothering him. When you took the seat in front of him and questioned why the long face, he would just brush it off, saying he had a bad day. Hopefully, that is untrue because today is a very special day. You hope that Haechan's mood has turned a full 180 and he's enjoying his day with his loved ones.

After clearing the round tables, you pull out the mop from the back room and drag it across the floor to clean any stains or dust. It's the routine for whoever works the night shifts, to clean up. Though, there are usually more people working to help out. But tonight, it's just you and the whirling of the coffee machines cleaning themselves. The ticking of the clock perched on the far wall continues, 10:52 PM, almost closing time.

You push the large tub of cleaning water and mop back into the break room before hanging up your beige apron. The sound of the opening entrance activates the bell, signaling that someone has entered the cafe.

"Sorry, we are closing in 5 minutes," you inform and turn around to let the customer out, but stop in your tracks as Haechan plops down in his usual seat. His expression is still gloomy, causing your heart to contort in an unpleasant fashion. "Haechan, what are you doing here?"

"A slice of vanilla cake, please," Haechan ignores your question, ordering the dessert with a gravelly and ruffled tone. He places his head on the table, chin resting on his folded arms.

"Cake? Don't you have cake at home?" you ask, but walk behind the counter to grab a slice from the display.

"I don't want to talk about it."

That seems like the go-to phrase of the day, with every question pertaining to his rainy mood, that is the response you are met with. With a sigh, you carefully transfer a slice of vanilla cake onto a plate and set it in front of Haechan. He grabs the small fork provided and just as he is about to dig in, you shout out for him to hold it. Confused, Haechan retreats his fork and watches as you scramble out of your seat in front of him to the counter once again. You dig around in the cubby under the counter where you keep your backpack, pulling out a box and grabbing some things from the drawers as well.

You shuffle back to him, holding the three items behind you back. Haechan raises an eyebrow, a question of 'what' about to spill out of his mouth. But before he can do so, you place the box on the table next to the slice of cake. Haechan's eyes switch from watching you to staring at the box in front of him. It's neatly enveloped in red and gold wrapping paper, a big golden bow taped on top.

"For me?" he asks, a finger pointed at his chest.

You roll your eyes teasingly, "No for the ghost behind you."

"Should I open it now?"

"Up to you."

Haechan reaches for the box, hand on the bow, but sets it down afterward. Your face drops, does he not like it? Is it too much to gift him something even if the two of you only met a few months ago? The beat of your heart matches you breathing, sporadic.

"Sorry, Y/N. Thank you so much for the gift. I really appreciate it. You're the only one who remembers," Haechan voices, though it's faint and full of gloom. He sets the box down, probably planning to open it later (you hope, that is).

"What? No way, I'm sure there's just a misunderstanding," you suggest, but the lack of response tells you to move on. Instead of prying further, you pull out the other two items from behind you. A package of used candles and a matchbox. Delicately, you stick a few of the small candles on the cake before taking a match to light them. Haechan follows you with full glassy eyes, he tries not to cry. You wave the match around to extinguish the fire.

"Happy birthday to you," you sing with a smile that illuminates brighter than the flames on the cake. "Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Haechan...Happy birthday to you!"

You clap gingerly, not wanting to blow out the candles with your movements. A tear rolls down Haechan's eyes before he quickly reaches to wipe it away, acting as if nothing happened. He leans forward with his eye closed, cheeks puffed, about to blow out the candle when you lightly clamp a hand over his mouth.

"You have to make a wish first, silly!"

Haechan scoffs nonchalantly, but the tint of his cheeks give away his cool facade. He closes his eyes once you withdraw your hand. The warm tones of the fire bring out the rich caramel color of Haechan's skin. You think it's beautiful, giving compliments every time the sun rays beam in through the window to kiss his vibrant skin. His shaggy brown hair falls over his forehead, lightly brushing his eyelashes. He opens his eyes, the chocolate-colored orbs gleaming down to blow out the candles. Snapping out of your unexpected trance, you cheer and urge for Haechan to eat the cake or else his wish won't come true.

After Haechan finishes the cake, you clean up the dish and silverware, not wanting your boss to scold you for leaving dirty dishes in the sink before closing the shop. The older boy moves to pay for the cake but you reply that it's your treat. It's his 18th birthday after all, he can't pay for his own cake.

Haechan and you walk side by side back to the dorms in the windy but humid night once you closed up the cafe. The silence is peaceful but there is something off about it as well, it bugs you. Haechan acts normally, but it seems as if there is something in his head that's bothering him. He keeps spacing out (walking into the road when the red stop light is on, missing a turn, almost hitting a stop sign). You have asked what it is that's troubling Haechan today but he doesn't want to share. Yet, you still feel the urge to question it. On one hand, you don't want to upset the latter, especially on his birthday. But on the other, he is already upset and there is a possibility you can make it better.

"Haechan?" you beckon in a hushed tone, even though there is no one out in the street at 11 PM. He hums in response but keeps his eyes trained in front of him on nothing in particular.

"Can you please tell me what's wrong? Why are you so upset? You know it's better to talk about things than to keep them bottled up."

Haechan releases a sigh, head leaning back to gaze up at the night sky, "It's my birthday today."

You wait for him to continue, not knowing what to say as you already know this information. Hence, why you prepared a gift for him. After a lengthy silence, presuming that Haechan is contemplating on whether to let it all out or not, he finally continues.

"But no one remembered," he exhales into the air, "no one except you."

"I'm sure there's a reason behind it. Maybe they texted you but it didn't send, technology can't always be trusted. Or what if they tried to leave a voicemail but your inbox is full or the machine isn't working. Or they tried to send you a gift but it got lost in the mail," you propose, trying to lighten the burden on Haechan's shoulders.

"Y/N...," he begins, his face now staring at you instead of the dark sky, "thank you, really. Thank you for always being there for me. For being here with me. And for remembering my birthday. I really don't know how I deserve someone like you, who is so warmhearted and positive, in my life. But thank you."

"Of course, Haechan. I care about you," you declare tenderly. Haechan stops walking, his arm holding onto yours causing you to stop as well. His eyes glisten, though you don't know if it's from the stars in the sky or of tears. Even when the sun isn't out, his skin still radiates warmth and glow.

"I like you, Y/N," he says without further thought. You're taken aback by his confession and expression, for it's serious with his eyebrows slightly furrowed and his lips tight in a line. Opposite from his appearance, you can't help but smile, fully comprehending his words. High on the rush of happiness, you swing your arms around Haechan's neck, pulling the latter closer to your body. Up close, his face is even more flawless, his eyes large, his nose round, and his lips plump and glossy. Though, you can't let your temptation for a kiss overrule your consciousness, so you lean to the side and plant a short kiss on his rosy cheek.

Haechan's eyes somehow grow wider, but before you can pull away, your lips are locked with his as an arm snakes around your waist to enclose you in his frame. His lips are as puffy and buttery as you imagined, the kiss chaste and soft. You feel as if the stars in the sky have stopped moving, the planet has stopped rotating, and everything around you has come to a halt. A charge of electricity runs up your spine, warming up your body. You imagine this feeling only happens in fiction, having read it multiple times, but this new experience is one you never want to forget. Haechan breaks away to your displease, eyes still closed, but he doesn't move far as he rests his forehead on yours.

"Would you look at that, half of my wish has already come true," the words leaving Haechan's mouth like silk. You lean your head back to look at him in the eye.

"What's the other half?"

"Can't tell you."

"Oh right, or else it won't come true!"

"I don't think it will anyway, but I'm more than content with what I've got right now."

"Oh shush, you never know, the Universe works in mysterious ways."

You peer up at the sky, the stars shining a lot brighter than before. You wonder if this is what it's like to be in love (though you don't really know what true love is), with everything becoming brighter and clearer. Haechan locks his hand with yours and continues walking back to the University dormitories.

"Can you stay with me tonight? I need comfort, we can watch movies - and cuddle?" Haechan asks, swaying your laced hands back and forth.

"Of course!"

It doesn't take long before reaching the large building of dorm rooms. Both male and female students share the same building but are located on different floors. Though, the RA doesn't really care who goes into who's room as long as no one is dying. With your hands still enveloped in his bigger ones, he reaches into his pocket for his keys, fumbling around before unlocking the front door and revealing his dark empty dorm room. Once he closes and locks the door, the lights flash on with a collective scream of "Happy 18th Birthday Haechan!"

Haechan drops his keys as it flies around in the air. He whips about his feet, meeting face to face with his friends, a birthday banner being held up in the middle. One of the guys walks towards Haechan, putting a party coned hat on him, while Mark snaps a picture of Haechan's reaction with a Polaroid. Haechan's death tight grip on your hand finally loosens as tears threaten to breach.

The other half of his birthday wish has come true.

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