Last night had been a good night, Remus Lupin decided, as he opened his eyes sleepily. Much butterbeer had been consumed by all, but he had woken up that morning feeling none the worse.

The one pro to being a werewolf was that he had an extremely high alcohol tolerance. It took six bottles of firewhiskey in their sixth year on Christmas Eve for him to get anywhere near tipsy.

However, he couldn't say the same for Sirius. Perhaps it would be best to avoid him this morning...

And possibly Tonks, too, although she seemed to hold her drink better than her cousin.

Ahh, Tonks, he thought, smiling, that hilarious – if clumsy – Auror girl. If drunk Sirius wasn't funny enough, she had made the night by (somehow) persuading he and Padfoot to dance with her to some old muggle song on the radio. Eventually Sirius had collapsed in a heap, and the two of them had dragged him upstairs, laughing all the way, before dumping him on his bedroom floor and heading off to bed.

A small grin tugged at his mouth; she had a great sense of humour, better than most. She really did make him laugh. And she didn't care that he was a werewolf, either.

Delightful?Funny? Said a small part of him that had woken at the name 'Tonks' That girl is HOT!

Remus ignored it.

But, to be honest, he mused it was fairly true. The way her pale, heart-shaped face had flushed when she fell and he offered a hand up. It was just instinct for him to hold out his hand when she tripped, but she always seemed to be surprised. As if everyone else had given up on her. Then he would chide her with a jokey "Careful, Nymphadora," and her hair would glow red and she would correct him firmly.

And what about that time when she had cut herself on that broken plate? She had wailed for a few seconds, before turning to run it under a tap. But he had caught her before she could, taken her small palm in his own and healed the cut in a trice.

The look on her face in that moment; she was embarrassed, those porcelain cheeks stained almost as pink as her hair, but as always, she was surprised. Surprised that he had been so kind. Surprised that he had bothered.

And he always bothered. He always helped her up, dusted her down, checked she was alright. He wasn't entirely sure why, but he had a horrible suspicion that if he didn't, no one would. And despite being a fully grown woman, and an Auror too, Tonks still needed and craved someone who would care for her.

That could be you

"No," Remus shook his head. This was stupid. He could never get together with a girl her age. She was twelve years younger than him.

Heck, in their seventh year, he, Sirius and James had babysat her! He seemed to remember that they'd left him on his own to look after her in favour of speeding round the garden on Sirius's new motorbike, but the fact was that he was seventeen and she was five.

Besides, she probably didn't even like him that way. He had nothing to offer her.

She blushed, didn't she?

Probably embarrassed to be holding that hand of such an old duffer...

You're not old. You're 34, the same age as Sirius, her cousin. She never blushes when she's with him, does she?

That's different. He's family.

So? What about Bill, or Charlie Weasley? Never blushes around them. But you...

"This is stupid," he muttered, then realised he'd spoken out loud.

A shower would clear his mind and cleanse these stupid thoughts. He climbed out of bed and stretched, before glancing down to check what he was wearing.

All he had on was his pyjama bottoms; grey chequered. He supposed they could be worse. After spending a few moments scanning his room for his pyjama top, he gave in. It wasn't like anyone would be up at this hour anyway. Tonks was probably still fast asleep, curled up in her bed...

Wouldn't it be nice to be curled up next to her, her warm body entwined with yours?

"No!"

Remus grabbed his towel from where it was draped over the radiator and marched out of his room.

Nymphadora Tonks stepped out of the shower, shaking her head and sending droplets of water everywhere. She picked up her towel from where she'd dropped it on the floor and wrapped it around herself, using her palm to wipe the mist off the mirror.

She studied her reflection critically. Hair too long? Wrong colour? Perhaps a different style?

"Arggh!" she turned away from the mirror, frustrated.

She'd been working on her 'look' for ages. She just couldn't get it right! She was trying purple hair out at the moment, but it just didn't seem to be working for her. Made her look peaky. She could try turquoise today, but...

She pulled a face, watching her reflection wrinkle its small pointy nose and stick out its pink tongue.

You could always ask him

Tonks tugged at a strand of hair aimlessly as her thoughts returned to the handsome werewolf who'd been inhabiting them so much recently. She'd asked him what colour he liked best, once, and he'd merely smiled and told her that is probably wasn't wise to ask his fashion advice, besides, she looked wonderful whatever colour.

Oh, how she'd blushed at that! Stupid girl she was, she'd let him see how much his words flattered her. Her blasted hair had turned bright pink and she couldn't calm it down for over an hour.

Later, creeping past the dining room for a midnight snack, she'd overheard Sirius calling him a smoothie.

And the way her stomach did somersaults when he took her hand to help her up. His rough fingers entwined in hers, her tiny hand clutched in his large one.

She loved the feel of his hands. Being an Auror, she was always the one doing the protecting, but with her hand enveloped in his, she felt small and helpless. In need of a rescuer.

That would be him, of course. The tall, rugged, handsome man, with enough issues to start a shop with. But girls loved guys with issues. And she loved him, with his werewolf and my-best-friend's-an-escaped-convict-who-everyone-thinks-murdered-our-friends-but-actually-it-was-our-other-friend-problems. Him being older was just a plus – it made him more mature, more world-savvy, able to protect her...

There was one thing about him that annoyed her, though. He took the burden of the world on his shoulders, believing if the slightest thing went wrong, it was his fault. So he punished himself by not doing anything, or getting close to anyone that he loved. It didn't help too that he believed himself to be impossible to live with, as he was a werewolf. There was wolfsbane, of course, but still he distanced himself from everyone.

She'd seen him once, on a full moon night, when she couldn't sleep. It was her third night at Grimmauld Place. She'd been downstairs in the drawing room, reading a book, when he'd stumbled in.

What she saw horrified her and amazed her at the same time.

By the looks of it, he'd just transformed back. His trousers were ripped severely on the legs, and his shirt only existed now as shredded sleeves hanging round his wrists. His breath was coming in wheezy heaves, and fresh blood dripped down his fingers.

But the thing that made her gasp most of all was his chest. The shirt had been ripped away, leaving only his skinny frame. Not so skinny that he looked starved, but skinnier by far than a normal person. She could see scars running the length of his shoulders and across his Pecs, and fresh ones on his upper arms.

"Remus!" she'd exclaimed, jumping from her seat. He'd waved her away, but she'd approached nonetheless. She took his bleeding hand in her own, touched it gently with her wand and wiped off the blood.

"What happened?" then she quickly added, "To your hand, I mean."

"Tripped." He gasped hoarsely, "Broken glass."

"Here," she led him to the kitchen table and sat him down, proceeding to heal his legs where she'd noticed him limping.

"You shouldn't..." he had croaked, "You ought to...back to bed..."

"No, no, its fine." She'd said firmly.

They spent the rest of the night talking quietly. Remus recovered a little when he'd choked down some tea and his stash of chocolate. Three times he tried to tell her to go back up to bed, but each time she insisted that it was ok.

That was the start of their friendship. She witnessed the vulnerable, broken side of him, and realised just how strong he was for keeping the thing that put him in such a state at bay. He saw the calm, concerned part of her, the whole reason she was such a good Auror, and he admired that.

She'd woken that morning in her own bed. Before she could suspect that it was some kind of dream, she noticed a note on her bedside table.

Thank you.

Tonks blinked a few times, realising that she was no longer in her bed or at the kitchen table. She flashed a smile at the mirror and, content with the whiteness of her teeth, opened the door to the bathroom and left.

Remus ascended the stairs, reaching the top a little before he'd expected to and dropping his towel.

Its Tonks's influence! Too much thinking about her makes you clumsy!

Tonks stepped out of the bathroom, turning to close the door behind her. Too much steam would alert the stupid muggle fire-alarm that Arthur had installed for 'precautionary measures'. She didn't want to wake up Sirius and Remus with its wailing.

The first thing Remus saw as he looked up was rather strange. Two rosy pink round things were just in front of his nose, partly cocooned by something green and fluffy. He stood stock still for a few seconds, letting his brain come up with suggestions as to what they could be.

He'd never realised just how perverted his imagination was. After ideas such as two broccolis missing the carrot and a pair of bowling balls in a grassy sleeping bag, he let his gaze travel up to what was above them.

Which happened to be the shoulders, neck and head of one Nymphadora Tonks.

Remus was staring at her face now, which, she had to admit, was a lot more comfortable than where he'd been staring before. Not that it was his fault, of course – he been bending down and she'd turned round at the same moment he stood up, which meant he nearly ended up sticking his nose in her cleavage.

Part of her was in hysterics at this point. This was by far the most awkward situation she'd ever been in. Remus was clad in nothing more than his pyjama bottoms, fluffy green towel held loosely in his hand.

Her eyes travelled to his bare top half. He was less skinny than before - Molly's Sunday lunch had attributed to that. He had also put on some muscle on his arms; he and Sirius had been shifting cabinets and wardrobes muggle-style because Mrs Black had spell-stopped them. The scars had faded a little and he looked a lot healthier than he had that full moon.

All in all, Tonks came to the conclusion that, with his mussed up bed hair and checked pyjama bottoms, Remus Lupin looked rather sexy.

His mouth gaped.

Merlin's beard, you were staring at her-

"Hi, Remus," she said, eyebrows raised.

Time to start grovelling and pleading for your life.

"Look, Tonks I'm sorry, I-"

To his surprise, she laughed, "No, don't worry; it's not your fault. I'm just glad you don't apparate into the bathroom like Sirius does – not that he's caught me." She added quickly, grinning.

Remus laughed too, thankful for her forgiveness and feeling some of the awkwardness disappear.

He noticed her shoot a quick glance up and down him, before blushing slightly and pressing her fingers to her mouth, other hand clutching tightly at the green fluffy towel.

Merlin, she's so beautiful...

It was true. Her porcelain skin practically glowed, cheeks flushed red and dripping hair draped over her shoulder. She couldn't seem to make her mind up about whether it should be maroon or magenta. Or maybe she was just embarrassed – he knew he was.

His gaze travelled to her feet. He'd never noticed before, but, Merlin, they were tiny! So small and white compared to his.

He looked up again, trying to keep his focus on her face, but unable to keep it from slipping down.

Don't-stare-at-them-don't-stare-at-them-don't-stare-

She seemed to notice his inability to concentrate on anything above her lapel, and she giggled, blushing harder.

"Remus, I'm having a little trouble deciding what colour to keep my hair, could you help?"

To help him decide, she switched her hair several different colours, landing on lime green. He snapped out of his reverie, blinking,

"Uh, what?"

She burst out laughing and he felt his cheeks burn – she'd caught him out!

He'd been staring at your boobs!

"Are you going to have a shower?" Tonks giggled, gesturing towards the bathroom and simultaneously shifting her arms so that the towel accentuated her femininity. How to tease a man! Her mother would be horrified.

"Uhh," he said blankly, looking everywhere but her, "Um..." then he seemed to snap out of it, "Yes, sorry, yeah, a shower,"

She turned to leave, still grinning.

"Oh, and in answer to your first question..."

She turned back, eyes sparkling, "Yes?"

"Green isn't your colour. I prefer pink."

And only when Remus stepped into the bathroom, with what he considered to be an adequate comeback ringing in his ears, did he realise that Tonks's towel had been green. And her hair had only gone pink when she'd realised that he was staring at her boobs.

"Merlin!" he groaned, banging his head against the wall, "She must think I'm some kind of-"

But his rant was cut off by a loud crack.

Standing beside him was the just-woken Sirius Black. His jet hair was sticking out at odd angles, messed up from sleep, and his eyes were bleary. Remus noticed that he was still clad in his clothes from the night before, a little worse for wear.

"'Ello Moony," he yawned, raising a hand in sleepy greeting. He walked over to the shower and pulled back the curtain, nearly falling into the bathtub as he did so. He leant in to turn the shower on and made a strange whining noise as he was sprayed with cold water.

Sirius seemed to remember that his best friend was still in the room, and turned round, thick eyebrows raised.

"You weren't gonna 'ave a shower, were you Moons?"

Remus stared at Padfoot for a few seconds, before sighing and rubbing his eyes.

"No, Sirius, I wasn't."