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On the rooftop

Tonks turned in her sleep - not so much that it resulted with falling off the bed, which was at least a weekly occurrence for a woman of such clumsiness. Feeling abruptly cold and a sudden draft, she pulled the bed sheet tighter around her body and automatically reached out for a familiar touch of skin, when she realised the bed space next to her was empty.

She quickly sat up, frowning.

Of course, she knew the reason why he wasn't snoozing soundlessly by her side.

Remus couldn't sleep.

Taking in a clear breath of fresh air in the darkness, he sat on the roof of Tonks' home, sitting on the peak with his legs bent and hands gripping the roof titles as he gazed upwards. The dark sky was illuminated by a half moon --a moon which he was on good terms with-- surrounded by scattered stars that simply couldn't be counted. He'd told himself climbing the roof was a hazardous idea, yet his legs had ignored his brain and the night brought out the slightly unruly side of him, especially on a monthly occasion.

"Remus, what in Merlin's name are you doing?"

For a second he'd thought the stars had been addressing him, rejecting his foolish idea of stargazing. Naturally, he figured the stars didn't sound exactly like Tonks (he reckoned the stars would sound more masculine and gruff) and he let his head fall from looking upwards to spot the witch popping her head out of the skylight window of the roof, a slightly miffed expression on her features.

"It's cold out here!" Tonks rubbed her shoulders, though she was wearing her dressing gown. "Come back to bed!"

"Ssssh," Remus hushed her softly, pressing a finger to his lips. Her shouting was disrupting the beautifully silent ambience but he used another excuse, "You don't want to wake up the neighbours."

"What, Mrs. Hathaway, the spinster from next door who likes to have conversations with her cats and smells of feline urine?"

"Hey," Remus smiled, "Don't make fun of her. That could have been me if I hadn't fallen in love you."

"If I wasn't so sleepy right now, I'd make a nauseating 'aaaw' at that comment," Tonks rubbed her droopy eyes, then stopped, her lips curving, "That wasn't a revelation of you actually being a woman, was it?"

"No, Tonks."

"Those slippers you wear make me question otherwise," Tonks smiled despite being in the middle of a yawn, "I mean, even my chequered slippers are more manly than yours, Remus. Now, are you coming back to bed?"

He didn't feel like returning yet, but at the same time didn't want Tonks to leave. "Come sit with me," he said tenderly, patting the space next to him.

Tonks shot him an outrageous look. "You are kidding, aren't you?" She looked from the spot she was currently at, and the top of the roof she had to reach which seemed exaggeratingly miles away all of a sudden. "I wasn't born with roof climbing skills, I'm sorry to say."

Remus patted the spot again.

"But I'll fall!" Tonks protested. "Remus, I will fall off the roof and you will see the headline of the Daily Prophet: 'Nymphadora Tonks - Death by Rooftop, see below for picture of her resembling a pancake'...actually, that's more of The Quibbler kind of title. But still, you know I am ungainly! The first time I met you I poured hot coffee onto your crotch!"

"A story definitely worth telling the grandchildren," Remus joked. Seeing Tonks' refusal to move, he reached down, balancing steadily on the roof titles, and pulled her up by the hand. She wobbled a bit until she plonked herself down, clinging onto Remus' arms as she eyed the ground with a timid look.

"If you were to fall," Remus murmured in her ear, "I don't think you'd resemble a pancake. I'd say you'd look more similar to pita bread."

Tonks slapped him playfully in the stomach, putting on a smile as she calmed herself down. She rested her head on his shoulder, following Remus' gaze upwards.

"What exactly are we looking at?" she whispered, trying to keep the soothing silence, " And please don't do a Centaur on me and say 'Mars is bright tonight'."

"It is rather though," Remus admitted. He gazed sorely at the half moon. "For once, I'd like to look at the moon as a full one, while still being...myself."

"The full moon isn't that great," Tonks divulged, trying to keep the conversation light. "I've seen pictures of it and everything. It's uninteresting."

Remus could see what she was trying to do. "I've heard that the image of a full moon is rather romantic actually."

"I prefer the half moon," Tonks said. "The full moon is just so...round," she didn't know where she was going with this, "you know...circular...and fat."

"Fat?" Remus echoed, holding back a laugh.

"Yes, fat, Remus Lupin. Do not question me and--why are you looking at me like that?" she broke off, noticing he was on the brink of a chortle, along with an odd Dumbledore-like sparkle in his eyes.

"Oh, I'd better not voice my thoughts. You'd be too sleepy to make a nauseating 'aaaw' at the comment," Remus echoed her words.

"Indeed I would be," Tonks agreed, feeling her eyes droop; they suddenly blinked awake when she realised she hadn't asked Remus something. "How come you can't sleep?" she asked him seriously.

"If I told you, you'd get upset about not remembering."

Tonks turned to look at him, her vibrant pink hair brushing with his robe sleeve. "No, I wouldn't! Not unless it was...Oh Merlin," her brain triggered the date, suddenly looking horrified, "Sirius..."

"It would've been a year since his death," he paused, checking his watch for the time, "today," he concluded.

Tonks' eyes appeared noticeably glossy. "I'm sorry-"she started.

"Hey," Remus shushed her, stroking her hand, "It's ok."

"...Are you ok?" she questioned, with much concern.

He didn't answer the question. "You know," he continued to stroke her fingers, "I've always wondered why he never got a proper funeral."

Tonks stared hard at the sky. "Its kind of...difficult, when there's no body," she said awkwardly.

"Sure, he made mistakes, but hasn't everyone?...He deserved a good send-off," Remus murmured, "He was a good wizard. A good man."

Tonks nodded, squeezing his hand. "I know."

There was the sound of a door creaking open and the two on the roof watched the nutty Mrs. Hathaway from next door stand on her front porch, bend over, and plop a bowl of cat food on the ground. The light from inside her house quickly disappeared as she shut the door again.

"Well, we just witnessed Mrs. Hathaway's two o'clock in the morning feeding of stray cats," Remus stated.

"We should make an effort to socialize with her," Tonks suggested, appearing sympathetic for the senile, lonely old woman. "You know, go round for a cup of tea and a game of scrabble."

"Considering she smells of cat urine, one can imagine her tea tastes of it too."

Tonks shuddered. "Mental images of cats squatting over tea cups, thank you." She rubbed Remus' arm for warmth and he slid an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. When he focused on the bowl of cat food again, he made a slight chuckle, and Tonks gave him an inquisitive look. "What?" she asked, nudging him.

"It's nothing. Just an inane anecdote."

"Ooh, I love those," Tonks grinned, and focused on the bowl of cat food Remus was looking at, "And it involves cat food! I must hear this one. Was this of your Hogwarts years, eh? Were you forced to eat cat food in a drunken game of Truth or Dare while inebriated on too much Firewhiskey?"

"No, thank goodness," Remus said with relief. Tonks nestled her head more comfortably onto his shoulder, and he took this as a cue for story-telling. "When Harry's parents, James and Lily, first moved into Godric's Hollow, they discovered one night looking out the window that a stray dog -or a neighbours, they were unsure at first- was rather fond of their garden. Now and again, they'd push back the curtains and there the shaggy dog would be; sitting on the lawn."

"Why was it there?" Tonks asked.

Remus shrugged. "They honestly didn't know primarily. It was almost as though the dog was guarding their house, James had told me. Lily, being partial to animals, felt sorry for the canine, and put out a bowl of dog food to feed it one day." Remus let off a chuckle. "It would never eat while Lily was there of course, but when she came out of the house again, the dog would be gone and the bowl would be empty."

"That dog was Sirius, wasn't it," Tonks guessed.

Remus cocked an eyebrow, quite impressed. "It was," he confirmed. "James and Lily had figured out evidently, but never told Sirius that they knew." Unexpectedly, his tone turned sad. "Do you know what night Sirius didn't visit to do his usual lookout?"

Tonks also emerged as gloomy. "The night Voldemort attacked them?" she guessed again, hoping dearly she was wrong. Remus nodded, and she sighed wretchedly. "Did Sirius ever blame himself?"

"He told me, in Grimmauld place, that he did," Remus said, looking pensive. "I eventually convinced him that even if he had turned up to guard James, Lily and Harry, he wouldn't have been able to stop Voldermort. Still, that unnecessary guilt made him into the dismal man you saw." He heaved a sigh. "He was never like that in our younger years. He was so…vivacious. I suppose everyone was back then. Wars drain a lot out of you and--hey, what are you doing?"

Tonks slid across the roof tiles, pulling him by the hand to the skylight window.

"Follow me," she said, oddly mysterious, and Remus obediently went along. Slipping through the roof window and back into the attic, Remus trailed Tonks through the house until she opened the front door and they winded up on the front porch. Checking first to see if there were no peeping muggles through the windows, Tonks conjured up a bowl of dog food with her wand and plonked it down on the doorstep, turning to Remus with a small smile.

Looking a little confused, Remus was about to ask whether she had turned into Mrs. Hathaway from next door, when he realised why Tonks had done what she did: it was in memory of Sirius.

Tonks put on a look which said she was expecting a kiss, and Remus pulled her forward to plant one on her forehead, and then stared out into the street of darkness.

"Do you think he's resting in peace?" Remus asked, almost child-like.

"He's resting in peace," Tonks reassured him, rubbing his torso. "And I think he would want you to, too."

Remus gently kissed her on the lips and let Tonks pull him back inside the warmth of the house, where the door shut soundly with a quiet click after them.

Almost immediately after they had gone, a dark stray dog emerged from the shadows. With it's tail wagging from side to side and its small feet pawing the ground, the dog ambled its way across the grass and to the bowl of dog food. Within seconds, the bowl was empty and the dog licked its mouth with it's tongue so to clean it. Now with a satisfied stomach, the dog let off jovial bark before speeding off down the street, using the moonlight to guide him.