Marking Time
Sunday night Remus came home late. It was a warm night, but inside the house he found himself shivering. A year's worth of cleaning hadn't seemed to dispel a lingering chill that went to the bone. The house was quiet. The curtains were pulled across the portrait in the hall. They stayed closed as he passed.
Remus noticed, with the peculiar clarity that seemed to have descended in the last few days, that the house also still smelled of mice, that the candle on the landing had gone out again, and that Tonks' hair was back to purple. She was sitting at the top of the stairs, looking out at nothing in particular, chewing on a purple fingernail.
"Wotcher, Remus," she said quietly. She hadn't bothered to hide the dark circles under her eyes. It was very late. He could hear a clock ticking somewhere in the house below.
"Lost?" he said, raising his eyebrows. She returned his shadow of a smile with her own.
"I wondered if you wanted company," she said, and then, as if she wasn't sure he understood what she meant, "Unless you only fancy men?"
"Well, I mainly do," Remus said. Sometimes Tonks made him feel old. "And I'm not up to anything it would matter for."
She shrugged.
"It's a cold night," she said. "I'd just like to sleep warm."
She looked less cold than tired, and very young. Remus had the urge to put an arm around her shoulders.
"Come on, then," Remus said. He gave her a hand up from her seat on the stairs.
He lit a candle but tried not to look around much. He stripped to his shirt and got into bed. The shadows were very dark.
Tonks crawled into bed beside him, still dressed in her Muggle shirt and jeans. There was a moment of awkwardness, and then she relaxed and settled next to him. They kissed on the lips with no heat, brothers in arms. She put her head on his shoulder.
"I rather fancied him," she said after a while. Then she shook her head against his shoulder. "I am clumsy."
"No," Remus said. He chuckled softly into her hair. "It's typical. Sirius always got more attention than he knew what to do with."
"I wasn't about to poach off you," Tonks said.
"I wouldn't have minded," Remus said. "But he would have wanted me to mind. And then we would have had a row. I'm just as glad we didn't waste time with that." He closed his eyes. She shifted to rest her chin on his shoulder.
"I think one of us should be breaking down," she said.
"I don't think we're the kind to," Remus said. "Go ahead, though, if you want."
She shrugged.
"I'm too tired," she said.
"Mad-Eye thinks I'm in shock," Remus said. "He keeps reminding me to eat."
"He thinks you're upset," Tonks said. "If he couldn't see that, he'd be blind."
"Did everyone know?" Remus asked.
"Not everyone knew you were shagging," Tonks said. "I wasn't sure for the longest time. But if you mean did they know you loved him, Mad-Eye says everybody knew that fifteen years ago."
"He means he did," Remus said. "Constant vigilance."
"Was Mad-Eye always that paranoid?" Tonks said.
"Voldemort killed half his friends," Remus said. "Although, yes, he was. But he has good reason for it." There was a long pause. He couldn't hear the clock anymore, and was glad.
"You must be really torn up," Tonks said.
Remus pressed his face against her hair.
"Poor Remus," she said, and reached across him to cup her hand over his shoulder. She put her head down on the pillow close beside him.
He didn't think they'd get through the night without one of them waking up in tears, which would make things awkward in the morning. But he supposed you couldn't have friends without taking a few risks. Besides, she was already going to sleep, her slow steady breathing marking time in the dark.