Lupin gets the dubious pleasure of waking Tonks up for breakfast every morning for a week. Timeline is during Order of the Phoenix. Written in 2005.
Tap, tap, tap.
A muffled groan from within her bedroom told Remus Lupin that Nymphadora Tonks had heard him knock, at least. He did not, however, hear sounds of movement. Why Molly Weasley had sent him up to retrieve his fellow Order member, he had no idea—but the errand was proving more difficult than he had anticipated.
Tap, tap, tap. More insistently this time.
“Mmfff,” was the only response. Lupin raised his hand to knock again, and then considered something. What if she had actually hurt herself somehow, and all he did was knock on her door? The thought made him open the door quickly and step in, scanning the room for danger. The sight that greeted him, however, was less dangerous than humorous. On the bed was a twisted pile of blankets, presumably encasing the object of his inquiry. It twitched slightly, and another muffled sound came from within—recognizable from this short distance as a curse. The blanket-Tonks thing wriggled again, and a foot appeared. It was too much for Lupin to suppress, and he started to chuckle.
“Bloody…” Tonks said, having finally extricated her head from the tangle of blankets and sheets. He heard her voice, but still couldn’t see her face—and given the position of the foot he could see, he guessed that she was getting a lovely view of the carpet in the corner. Or, rather, the clothes piled on the carpet in the corner. He couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that escaped him. “Lupin?” said the still-hidden Tonks. He froze.
“Uh, good morning,” he said, lamely. “How did you know it was-“
“Your shoes,” she cut him off quickly.
“Ah,” he said. “Molly sent me to see that you were up.” He wondered why he was catching a sense of guilt in her scent. The embarrassment was natural, but…
“I’m up!” said a flustered Tonks, proving herself false by choosing that moment to fall out of the bed completely. He caught a glimpse of a shapely leg before he hastily retreated behind the door again.
“I’ll, err, tell her you’re awake, then,” he stammered. Another crash and a curse were her only reply. As he descended the stairs to the kitchen again, his eyes flickered to the mismatched socks he wore. He stopped short, and stared into space for a long moment, remembering what she’d said about recognizing him by his shoes.
“What are you staring at?” asked a portly man in the painting in front of him. Shaking his head, bemused, Remus Lupin continued down to breakfast.
Tap, tap, tap.
Remus very much wondered if half-strangling herself with her bedclothes was a habit for his colleague, but, given that she was an Auror, decided that he didn’t want to push his luck by investigating the theory. Instead, he listened closely at the door, and was rewarded by hearing a series of creaking springs, indicating that she’d heard him knock. A moment later, however, his keen hearing detected the steady breathing of a sound sleep. He sighed, beginning to realize why Mrs. Weasley had sent him up to wake Tonks instead of attempting it herself.
Tap, tap, tap, tap.
The bedsprings creaked, and he heard her distinctly.
He stifled back a laugh, and could literally picture her on the other side of the door, piling her pillows over her head to block out the sound. Lupin told himself he probably should just say something, but her reactions were far too amusing to deprive himself of the experience.
Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.
This time, a groan, as she hadn’t quite managed to slip back into sleep before he knocked again. There was dead silence for a long moment, during which he hovered his hand near the wood of the door, preparing to knock again. Again, he caught a mental image of what she was probably doing inside the room—hunched over in bed, waiting to see what he would do. He willingly obliged her.
“Merlin’s beard!” she exclaimed crossly.
“Go away!” muffled from under the pillow.
Tap, tap, tap
Remus jumped back as the impact of her pillow hitting the door set his heart racing. A random thought flitted across his consciousness—/at least she isn’t dull/. He grinned at the door, despite himself.
“I see you’re awake,” he said to the expectant silence, laughter in his voice. A second THUMP! punctuated his statement, and he laughed out loud.
“See you at breakfast,” he said, and practically skipped down the stairs, passing a shocked Arthur Weasley as he went.
Tap, tap, tap.
Lupin had come to expect the surprised squeaking of her bedsprings at the first knock. He wondered what delightful way she would greet his attempts to wake her, this morning.
Tap, tap, tap.
More bedsprings, a grumpy mutter, and a painful sounding thump that he interpreted as her knocking herself on the headboard. He winced in sympathy, but he had his orders.
Tap, tap, tap.
This time, he was rewarded with a practically feral growl.
“Are you all right in there?” he called out, trying to mask the amusement in his voice. Not everyone, after all, could be a morning person. A frustrated groan was the predictable response. Suddenly, Remus had an idea.
“Not being attacked by some sort of creature in there, are you?” he asked, feigning concern. Another groan and a thump that sounded suspiciously like a badly aimed pillow thrown in his direction was his only answer.
“Would you like to be?” Heart pounding, he could scarcely believe he’d said it. He didn’t need to wait long for her response.
The door burst open and a disheveled Tonks stood there in a rather fetching pair of pink shorts and tank top. Her hair was bright blue, and her grey eyes were wide. He smiled at her, pretending he hadn’t said something completely outrageous not a minute before.
“Good morning, Nymphadora,” he said nonchalantly, and turned to walk down the stairs.
“Unless you want to be attacked by some sort of creature,” she said in a very disgruntled voice, “/don’t call me Nymphadora!/” Lupin felt a rush of air at his back from the force of her slamming the door, and he started whistling as he made his way to breakfast.
Lupin stopped outside of Tonks’ door that morning, and seriously considered charming the thing to bounce any thrown pillows back to their owner. /Probably a bad idea/, he realized.
Tap, tap, tap.
Instead of the expected creaking bed noises, however, he heard a muffled thump.
“Did you just fall out of bed?” he asked, amused.
“Bugger off, Remus,” came her endearing response.
“Certainly, Ms. Tonks,” he said cheerfully. “As soon as you open the door.” Her reply made him color slightly, and wonder idly if Auror training included how to swear in five languages.
“Good morning to you too.” He wondered what made it so irresistible to tease her every morning…
“Dunno what’s so good about it,” he heard her mutter under her breath.
“Well, let’s see,” he said, unable to stop himself from goading her. “It’s sunny, the wisteria bush is blooming,”
“Remus,” she said, in a dangerously sweet tone.
“If I open the door and prove I’m awake, will you quit listing things?”
The door popped open and a pink-haired, violet-eyed Tonks appeared, one arm disappearing into her favorite Weird Sisters shirt.
“That’s ‘good’ enough for me,” she said, sarcastically. “/Good morning/, Remus.” He couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the look she shot him before she tripped her way down the stairs to breakfast. He pulled her bedroom door shut and made to follow her, knowing she’d gotten there safely by the sound of breaking china.
A loud crack of thunder reverberated in the small room, seeming to Nymphadora Tonks as if it had been generated there. She had a sneaking suspicion it had. Flying out of bed after laying frozen there for a split second in terror, her fear turned to anger. She whipped open her bedroom door and flung herself into the hallway. Sure enough, he was there. She stood there for a long moment, trying to formulate a coherent reply, her white hair sticking out in every direction and her albino eyes flashing in anger.
“Something wrong, Tonks?” Remus asked her calmly.
“Yes, there’s something wrong!” she fairly shrieked at him. “Your bloody thunder scared the color right out of me!” Even though she hadn’t had the time to glance in a mirror, she knew by the way she felt that her words were true. “What the hell were you thinking?!” she demanded, furious.
“Well,” he continued in the same irritatingly calm voice. “You seemed to dislike my cheerful comments so much that I thought I’d try something new.” The man actually leaned against the hallway wall as he spoke, looking for all the world like he was conversing about the weather. Which, she grudgingly admitted, in a way he was. Tonks stood there spluttering for a minute or two before her words started to make sense again.
“Remus,” she tried to say, but it came out in more of a low growl. She was pleased by his reaction to it, however—he stopped lounging against the wall and straightened a bit, eyeing her warily. Tonks closed her eyes and forced herself to calm down. When she spoke again, she appeared to have mastered herself, although her eyes almost glowed with intensity.
“Remus, ‘trying something new’ is not what one generally does to an Auror,” she said, a tiny hint of menace in her voice. It pleased her that he seemed to find her words slightly disturbing. “That is,” she continued, stepping forward a little, “if they want to remain attached to all their limbs.” She put her hands on her hips.
Lupin looked dumbstruck for a long moment, and Tonks felt the chill of victory. Then, he smiled at her. /Odd reaction/, she thought.
“Good to know,” he said blandly, crossing in front of her without any fear whatsoever and walking down the stairs to the ground floor.
Tonks sincerely wished for a pillow. Was he whistling?
BANG, BANG, BANG.
Remus Lupin woke with a start. What on earth was making that racket? He looked around, bleary-eyed, but didn’t see anything that would be responsible for…
BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG.
“Bloody Hell!” he said hoarsely.
“Good morning, Remus,” said an entirely too cheerful Tonks, from the other side of his door.
“It’s /Saturday/, Tonks!” he protested, rolling over and piling his pillows on his head.
“Yep, a gorgeous one!” crowed Tonks. Doesn’t take a hint, that one/, he thought grumpily. /Maybe if I…
“Bugger off, Tonks!” he hollered at the door.
“Certainly, Mr. Lupin—the instant you open the door.”
Lupin walked towards Tonks’ door, his mind full of all sorts of possibilities, each more delicious than the first. He’d simulate an earthquake and shake her out of bed. He’d charm his voice into that of her father’s, and frighten her awake. He’d…
Remus leaned against the door, deciding which horrible way he’d wake her up as revenge for her ruining his Saturday morning. He’d just lifted his hand to knock on the door when it opened. As the now non-existent barrier of wood had been supporting most of his weight, he toppled into the room, landing at a fully dressed and chipper looking Nymphadora Tonks’ feet.
“Falling for me already, are you?” she said, mimicking the irritatingly calm voice he’d used in speaking to her last week. Tonks stepped over him primly and out into the hall, shooting a “Good morning, Remus,” over her shoulder at him.
Lupin got up slowly and dusted himself off, shaking his head at the inconsistency of women. Shutting her bedroom door behind him, he called out down the hall, “At least you get up at a reasonable hour, now!”
The familiar sound of breaking china, and Tonks’ voice muttering curses at him was the only response.