Grimmauld Place was as gloomy as it had ever been. The windows, so grimy one could hardly see through the smoky glass, were beginning to collect steam as the large dank parlor warmed up by the light of a weak fire in the massive stone fireplace. Fog rolled carelessly outside, giving the house a choked enclosed feeling. Anyone who was inside the house felt as if they couldn't leave.

Of course, the house didn't have to be this way. Looking at the grand architecture, one could see that in its day it had been grand, but now so neglected, uninhabited since the death of its owner.

In the parlor, sitting in one of the large musty armchairs sat Remus Lupin, flipping slowly through an old book, pages yellowed with age by the flickering light of the fire. A half full glass of fire whiskey sat on the small coffee table in front of him. He was there on duty that night for the Order of the Phoenix. He had tried to protest, but no one else could take the time. Arthur and Molly were busy. Kingsley was on duty protecting the muggle Prime Minister. It was painful being in Sirius' house since his death. The house, so gloomy even when Sirius was alive, was even more melancholy now that he was gone. Remus had spent so much time in this house; he kept expecting Sirius to come out of the darkness and say something humorous.

But he had to come to grips with the fact that his best friend was gone, and with him, the happiness and light that now only haunted the endless quiet of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

And besides, tonight was going to be a full moon. He was safe in the house. It was so magically well protected, there was no way to hurt anyone but himself, and that was important. It might as well be him on duty tonight. He didn't really mind. He would read until the moon rose, and then curl up for the next few days and let himself heal. It was routine now. Nothing new.

But that wasn't entirely true. No, there was something new. A certain purple haired metamorphamagus who kept flitting in and out of his thoughts. Nymphadora Tonks.

It was nothing at first. It should have been nothing still, but it was not. It was more.

He had always found her amusing, cute even. She had a childlike glow about her that never ceased to bring a smile to his face. It had been he and Alastor Moody that had taken her on her first Order Assignment. She had been so enthusiastic, so excited, and then sobbed like a baby when she realized they were investigating the murders of muggle children.

But that was Tonks. She wore her heart on her sleeve. She had a comedic element that always could somehow light up the room, whether she was changing the proportions of her face, or tripping over something. Remus had a hard time not laughing when he was around her.

That was how it was supposed to stay. Afterall, he was almost ten years her senior. She should have had no interest in him whatsoever. But the night Sirius died, he was sitting in Saint Mungo's watching her sleep. The healers said she had sustained some rather serious internal burns from Belltrix's curse, but she would be all right in time.

It was during that small time when Remus sat alone with her while she slept, that he realized that she was beautiful. Perhaps it was because when she slept, her hair and face turned back to normal. No pink hair, no pig snout, just a young girl. Her hair was a nice shade of brown, not extravagant or especially stylish, but pretty. She had a heart shaped face that really was put off by her usually vibrant hair. Just pretty.

That night, she had looked so pathetic, so helpless. When she awoke, he was the first thing she saw, and she begged him to check her out and take her home. She said all she wanted was to see her mother, but he said no. He couldn't let her leave without the healer's permission, and she was weak as it was.

"Will you stay with me?" she had begged.

His face softened. "Until morning." He said. "Then I have to go back underground."

"What do you do underground?" she asked, her hair taking on its old shade of violent pink.

"Dangerous things." He whispered, stroking her cheek. She was getting ready to go to sleep again. Her large dark eyes were drooping. "Go to sleep, Nymphadora. You need it. In the morning, your parents will come to take you home." She yawned, and held his hand.

In the middle of the night, she woke up sweating, and shaking, crying. Remus jolted awake and took her hands.

"What's the matter, Tonks?" he asked urgently. "Shall I get a healer?"

She looked confused, as if she had had a nightmare.

"No." she said absently. "It's just…he's really dead, isn't he?" The look on his face said enough. Her shoulders slumped, and she leaned against him. Remus immediately tried to pull away, but she was so warm, so little. Gently, he patted her back while she nuzzled her head into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Nymphadora." He said quietly. "He died a hero's death."

"He was my favorite cousin." She whispered, tears spilling out of her eyes.

They stood like that in the dark for several minutes, when Remus held her away from him.

"You should sleep, Tonks." He said. "It's nearly morning."

She looked at him, and pulled him towards the bed.

"Will you lay by me for a minute?"

"I can't, Tonks. It's not appropriate."

"It's just laying."

And before he knew it, he was nestled in a hospital bed beside a sleeping Nymphadora.

That had been the first instance. He should have said no. He should not have even agreed to stay with her. It was wrong, inappropriate, and completely out of range of anything real. And perfect too…

Since then, he had tried ignoring her. She deserved someone better, someone who wasn't so damaged. She was young and lovely. He was old…and a monster…