Fan-fiction: Panic - A Harry Potter Fan-fic

They were sitting in a large and sprawling bush that grew around the end of a  low stone wall, which they were using as a seat. It had eventually stopped raining, but the wall was damp, and the leaves on the bush were slowly gathering little pools of water that would weigh them down and regularly splash onto Remus' head, adding to his discomfort. His cheap boots were already sodden from a ditch that, had it been any deeper, he would have been swimming in, and he couldn't even dry himself with his wand, because even that small magic would be detected.

Spying on Malfoy Manor was generally considered a very boring duty, as nothing really ever happened there, or if it did it was well hidden, and the wet weather lately had only made it more unpleasant. Sirius had grinned rather nastily when Remus was leaving. Remus knew he was bitter that he wasn't allowed leave the house, but doing his damnedest to get everyone to throttle him in the night – because that was where his attitude was slowly but surely bringing him – was not the answer.

Yet Remus couldn't really bring himself to be dismal. The reason was sitting next to him with pink hair and a slightly sour expression.

“I keep getting excited every time I see her leave the house, but it's always for something boring, and distinctly lacking in evil,” groaned Tonks in frustration, after leaning forward excitedly when Narcissa Malfoy had briefly stepped out to water her flowers. Well, to order a house elf to do it, anyway.

An involuntary smile tilted the corners of his mouth, but he kept his eyes focused on the nearby manor. From their vantage point they could see the front door and little else, but it was the best they had. Nowhere else offered a good view and cover, and magic was out of the question. The Malfoys had very sophisticated wards.

“I thought you would be better at stakeout, considering your profession,” he remarked.

“Nope, never had the patience. Basically, anything to do with waiting or sneaking I'm bloody awful at.” She didn't sound particularly unhappy about it.

“Fair enough.”

Silence descended again.

He liked sitting here beside her, liked talking to her, liked the silence between them. She relaxed him, and catching sight of her bright pink hair out of the corner of his eye never failed to bring a smile to his face, even though his feet were getting colder by the minute and rain water was occasionally dripping down his face.

She was always there, recently. A year ago he didn't know who she was, that she existed. But one day Sirius had introduced her as a new member of the Order, his cousin, Andromeda's, daughter.

They got on well. Often he would get off a midnight shift and, if he knew she had a later shift, or finished shortly after him, he would put the kettle on and wait for her in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. She was new, she had a stressful job, and she had been beginning to look almost as tired as him after a full moon.

It was always worth losing an extra hour or two of sleep to see her smile gratefully as she took a cup of tea and talked to him about … anything, everything, nothing at all. Something about her, possibly her vibrancy – her inner vitality, not just the hair – made her light up the room. Or bush.

“You know what, Remus?” she said, and he saw her turn to him, so he glanced at her and gave her a smile, but returned his eyes to Malfoy Manor. Just in case.

“What?”

“I think you're my best friend,” she said, and grinned before giving him a brief, one-armed hug.

“Oh, thanks,” he said, feeling his skin heat up oddly, and tingling where they'd touched.

He felt suddenly aware of just how small a space they were in, and tried to shift without being it noticeable. There was only a few inches of space between her left arm and his right.

She was watching the manor now, but he was having difficulty keeping his eyes away from her.

“Don't tell Sirius,” he said, nervously, his mouth inexplicably dry – the only part of him that was, at this point, “but you're far more pleasant company than he is, so …”

“Why, thank you, Remus,” she said, laughing as softly as she could. “I'm glad I'm more fun than a moody escaped prisoner.”

“No! That's not what I …” He could feel his face begin to burn. What was wrong with him? They had joked earlier that day without him feeling at all awkward.

She laughed again. “Relax, and don't worry, I appreciate the sentiment.”

When she laughed, her lips thinned and curved upwards and her mouth opened, her shoulders shook slightly and her the skin around her eyes crinkled. She laughed properly, fully, nothing forced, nothing polite and delicate. He couldn't help wondering, as he watched her chuckle happily, what it would be like to press his lips against her laughing mouth.

The thought appeared in an instant, and left its image branded on his mind. His eyes widened and he hurriedly shifted until there was at least two feet between him and Tonks.

She turned in surprise. “What's up?” she asked, looking at him in confusion.

“Nothing,” he said, quickly. “Um, there was a … spider.”

She laughed again, and he quickly averted his eyes from her lips. “I didn't know you were scared of spiders. You've been sitting in a damned bush all day! How do you manage?”

“No, I'm not scared of spiders, it was just … it just surprised me, that's all. It was pretty big,” he added.

“OK, whatever you say, Remus.”

For the rest of their shift he fidgeted and kept glancing at his watch, praying for an end to this confusing day. If he just had a day without her presence he was sure he could figure this out. He tried not to look at her, but remained aware of her every movement. Any time she spoke he kept his eyes straight ahead, but attempted to smile (failing dismally). He answered her briefly when he had to.

Inside, he was panicking. Nymphadora Tonks was a beautiful, young, funny, kind, intelligent woman; what right did he have to be having inappropriate thoughts about her? They had been getting on so well! She was one of the few Order members who he truly enjoyed the company of, felt comfortable with and, even more rarely, seemed to really feel comfortable with him. This could ruin everything. He didn't want to lose a good friend, but if he couldn't manage to get a grip then wouldn't it be better for her if he just … backed off a little? Kept his distance? The main problems were a slight ache in his heart as he thought about not talking to her, not seeing her – and her words: You're my best friend.

When their shift finally ended the sun was beginning to come out, and a weak and washed out rainbow had appeared in the sky. Its pale colours seemed to match Tonks' hair, which was looking a little lack lustre, as they Apparated away without a word. He failed to notice a disappointed look in Tonks' eyes as he made his excuses after they arrived back at Headquarters and vanished to his room. He lay down on his bed fully clothed, sopping shoes forgotten, and buried his head in his pillow.

He desperately needed to rid his mind of ridiculous notions.