The Trouble With Me (Tonks/Lupin)

Hi! I thought it might be fun to speculate how and when Lupin and Tonks got together. This story starts about where OotP does and goes through the end of it. I want to do one spanning HBP as well, which I think will be called The Trouble With Him. :lol: I hope it does them justice.

As is very obvious, I am not JK Rowling and I do not own these characters, I’m only borrowing them because I choose to spend my free time writing stories instead of living my life or doing anything worthwhile. :lol: My story also contains excerpts from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.
FEEDBACK (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?p=3544168#post3544168) is always appreciated.


The Trouble With Me

Chapter 1
Approaches and Reproaches

Nymphadora Tonks was a good Auror. She was bright and resourceful, talented, strong, and motivated, so why, she wondered, was she sitting in an ugly cheap cubicle staring nonplussed at a stack of parchment? She should be out in the field doing things that really mattered, catching evil witches and wizards, in the fray of the fight, helping to bring to light what was really happening in the world around them, for she believed, with out any doubt, that Voldemort was back and that the Ministry was only digging the graves for his victims by ignoring it. But, no, she was forced to sit there, on her backside, completing mountains of paperwork while old codgers like Dawlish and Greengrass break a hip trying to bring down outlaws.

Frustrated, she ran her fingers through her short blue spiked hair and, once again, tried to focus on the form she was filling out. It was no use. Her concentration was completely shot. What she needed was a bit of a break; maybe a good duel would settle her feelings of uselessness.

But before she could rise from her chair to seek out more exciting places, a rather imposing figure appeared next to her. His hand settled on her shoulder and she saw him smile at the pile of parchment obscuring her desk.

“Bottom rung of the Auror ladder can be a bugger, eh?” said Kingsley Shackelbolt with a smile. He was a bald black man with an infectious laugh and a rather gypsy-like gold hoop in his ear. Tonks always suspected that there was a story behind the earring, but never got around to asking.

Tonks grimaced at him to signify that she agreed. She liked Kingsley quite a bit. He was older than she, closer actually to her parents’ ages and much farther up the Auror ladder, as he had called it, but he had never regarded her as less able or overly naïve, as many of her other colleagues had.

“You’d think they would want the most able-bodied to do the fieldwork.”

“You would think.” Kingsley agreed. But she noticed that his demeanor had turned dark, serious even. His eyes were heavily shadowed and he looked rather like a deep gloom had overwhelmed him. This was not the face of the jolly Kingsley Shackelbolt she knew.

“Kingsley, everything all right?” She asked, trying to glean any kind of information from his face that she could.

“We should go for a walk.”

Oh God. Something terrible had happened. My mother! Something has happened to her, or there’s been another Dark Mark spotted, this time over a house full of dead people. She could not stop the flood of thoughts that were coming; wave after wave of disaster, floated through her head as the walked into the elevators and rode in silence. Kingsley’s droopy expression was not helping her imagination at all. Something has happened to Bredan or Arrenda, or Greegon. Oh good God, not St. Mungo’s? Have the Death Eaters attacked the healers or Hogwarts perhaps? .

Finally, after what felt like hours, they exited the Ministry of Magic through the Visitors Entrance, which was really just an old Muggle telephone booth. It was a very bright and warm day at the end of June and if her imagination had not been running off to the deepest levels of destruction and despair, she would have taken a moment to appreciate the beauty of it. But as it was, she could not tear her brain away from images of dead relatives or the impending apocalypse and she finally cracked.

“God, Kingsley, just spill it before I drive myself mad!” She nearly screamed it and two elderly Muggle women turned and stared at her as though she had just bellowed obscenities in front of the Queen.

“Sorry, Tonks. Didn’t mean to get you all riled up like that. Don’t panic there’s no reason to worry.”

Tonks felt her self let out a deep breath and her brain immediately put on the breaks and the images of dead relatives and friends faded from her mind’s eye.

“What are you playing at, acting like that? Scared me half to death.”

Kingsley stopped walking and sat down on a bus stop bench, motioning for her to do the same. She sat next to him and waited while he seemed to consider his words for a long moment.

“Well, Tonks,” he finally said, looking her square in the eyes, “I know that you support Dumbledore and that you believe Voldemort is back.”

He paused and she took that as her que to nod approvingly at him. Where was this going? Why was he so nervous?

“Well, there are others of us who also stand by Dumbledore and I am going to ask you something, but before I do, I need to know that I can trust you. And I don’t mean simple trust; I mean take-this-information-to-your-grave kind of trust. Do you understand?”

Was he kidding? Tonks couldn’t decide whether to be insulted by his complete lack of faith in her or flattered that he must have felt he could confide in her. Honestly! If he thought that she didn’t understand the nature of trust, then he must not think her a very good Auror, for a fundamental part of being an Auror is trusting the people you work with.

“Do you honestly think that I would betray you or Dumbledore?” She finally asked, not bothering to disguise the hurt and anger in her voice.

“No, but I have to ask before I can reveal to you what I plan to. It’s part of the magical concealment that Dumbledore cooked up to protect us.”

Unsure of where this was going, Tonks simply stared at Kingsley with an appraising kind of look, trying to decide whether he was round the bend or just under some massive amount of pressure. Maybe it was both.

“Tonks, have you ever heard of the Order of the Phoenix? It’s a secret organization that was built during Voldemort’s last reign to combat him. Not even the Ministry is fully aware of it.”

Yep, he was round the bend, all right. Poor guy needed a good vacation and maybe a sedation potion.

“I am a member and we have recently recalled the Order in light of new developments, but we are very few in number. We need members, Tonks and I would like you to come to a meeting tonight and see if you would be interested in joining.” He finished the last sentence in a hushed flurry of words as though saying them was indecent.

“You’re kidding, right?” And possibly a nutter.

“No, I am not.” He pulled out a piece of parchment and handed it to her. “Memorize this address then burn the parchment. I will pick you up at your house tonight at six.”

Kingsley stood and walked stiffly back the way they had come.

“What if I don’t want to go?” She called after him.

“You’ll go. You’re too curious not to.” He answered without bothering to turn around.

Well, you wanted some more excitement in your life. She said to her self, before reading the thin loopy writing on the parchment Kingsley had given her.

The headquarters of The Order of the Phoenix is located at number 12, Grimmauld Place, London.

~*~*~*~*~*~

At six o’clock that evening, Kingsley appeared in Tonk’s fire. He stepped unceremoniously into her living room, dusting himself off and coughed a bit. He was dressed in trendy Muggle jeans and a cream colored knit sweater and had donned a cowboy hat that looked very odd in accordance with his “preppy” sweater. She considered mentioning that she suspected his attire to be awkward, but decided to keep it to herself, but she did wonder why he was wearing Muggle clothes in the first place.

“Kingsley, what’s with the get up? We’re not going to a Muggle house.”

“What makes you think we’re not going to a Muggle house?” He asked.

“I assumed that I had to be given the address on a piece of parchment because the house was protected by the Fidelius Charm and Dumbledore, as Secret Keeper, is the only one capable of revealing the location.” She said, knowing perfectly well that she was right and, not for a second, questioning her deductions on the matter.

“Now, how did you figure that Dumbledore was the Secret Keeper?” Kingsley was eyeing her with what looked like admiration.

“I’ve seen more than a few letters home from my days at Hogwarts. I’d recognize his handwriting anywhere.”

“You are not an Auror by mistake, my dear.” He smiled at her and motioned to the fire. “We’ll floo as close as we can, but then we’ll have to walk the rest of the way. Hence the clothing.”

“Give me a second to change and I’ll be right with you.”

Tonks sprinted up the stairs and into her bedroom. She wrenched open her dresser drawers and rifled through her clothes. She was a lover of Muggle clothes and tended to go into Downtown London on her days off to buy jeans and t-shirts with bright designs on the front, which she always matched her hair to. Grabbing a pair of worn jeans and a white shirt with a large pink cat on the front, she changed hastily and sprinted back down to the living room.

“Where are we flooing to?” She asked, at the same time closing her eyes, picturing the exact color pink of the image on her shirt and concentrating very hard. She felt the familiar sting behind her eye sockets.

“That is very weird.” Kingsley said, looking at her with a mixture of disgust and wonder.

“So I’ve been told. Where are we flooing to?”

“Number 9, Lowerton Drive.” He said stepping into the fire.

“And who lives at number 9, Lowerton Drive?” She asked holding out her small can of floo powder.

Kingsley took a fistful of the powder and said, “Mad-Eye Moody,” with a mischievous smile.

Before Tonks could react, he was gone in a burst of green flames.

Stepping into the fireplace and taking a calming breath, she took a handful of the magical powder and pulled out her wand, clutching it in her hand like her life depended on it, which it may have. This is insane. What in Pete’s sake am I doing? Am I going to sacrifice everything that I have been working so very hard for and follow Kingsley into God only knows where, because I saw an address written in what looked like Dumbledore’s handwriting, because I know that if Fudge learns of this, anyone involved is completely screwed.

She took another big breath,

And I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve heard that address somewhere before. Number 12, Grimmauld Place? Where have I heard it?

Another breath.

Aw, hell, just do it!

“Number 9, Lowerton Drive.” She stated, clearly and purposefully. She threw the powder at her feet and felt the familiar green flames tickle her elbows and face before stumbling out of the fire into an unfamiliar living room, her wand ready.

Her Auror training told her to survey the room as soon as possible and within seconds she had the furniture placement and all escape routes memorized. There were two couches facing each other in the center of the room, a cabinate in the corner, a few small tables with nothing on them and hundreds of different types of Dark Detectors spread out around the room. This was Mad-Eye Moody’s place all right.

The large front window appeared to be boarded up with wood, she figured this was because Mad-Eye’s eye would allow him to see out while no one could see in. The front door was equipped with an intricate locking mechanism reminiscent of something she had seen at Gringott’s Wizarding Bank once.

Kingsley was standing near the front door, a smug look on his face.

“Took you long enough. Struggling with your subconscious?”

“Where’s Mad-Eye?” She asked, not bothering to answer or even react to Kingsley’s comments.

“He headed over already. We’d better go or we’ll be late.”

Tonks cautiously crossed the room, keeping an eye on her surroundings, just in case, though her instincts told her that there was no danger.

Kingsley wove his wand in complicated motions in front of the rather impressive lock on the front door and many small iron latches and chains and hooks and clasps flipped and unhooked themselves. He pushed the door open and they stepped out into the warm breeze.

“I’m going to have to get one of those.” Tonks muttered as they left the house. She tucked her wand up the sleeve of her shirt so it would not be seen, but still be accessible.

They walked together down to the end of the block, crossed the street and turned left. They encountered very few cars and even fewer Muggles. The neighborhood was clearly inhabited by lower income families. The houses were all in various states of disrepair: broken windows, chipped paint and leaky roofs. Many yards were adorned with what looked like old cars or parts of them anyway and various metal boxes and machines. Tonks had no idea what they were for or why they were left about the yard, but she had the distinct impression that the Muggles who lived there didn’t care.

After about four blocks, they turned right and Tonks found herself on a dead end street that, was just as neglected as the others. They passed a small square that was just a block of grass and a few benches. She had a strange case of déjà vu, but couldn’t manage to place it.

Kingsley stopped in front of a house that she saw was numbered 11. “It’s here,” he said.

Tonks looked at the space between numbers 11 and 13, concentrating on the number 12 and there it came, like a balloon inflating, the house appeared, pushing the others aside to make room for it. She knew how the Fidelius Charm worked because her house was also protected by it, so the sight of a rather large house appearing out of nowhere did not catch her off guard.

They approached the front door and Kingsley knocked. A few moments later the door opened and Mad-Eye Moody greeted them.

“Kingsley,” he nodded. “Tonks, nice to see you.”

“And you Mad-Eye, been a while.” She smiled at him. Tonks liked the haggard old Auror. He had made many visits to the Auror office after his retirement to visit friends and give pointers. Most of the other Aurors found him pushy and intrusive, but Tonks found him helpful; his blunt truthfulness was refreshing.

“Well, get in here or would you rather someone sees you?” He growled impatiently.

“See, that’s why I’ve missed you so much; your excellent people skills.” Tonks clapped him on the shoulder as she passed into the house.

Tonks followed Kinsgley down a dark and musty hall, there were a few oil lamps lit, sprinkling ineffectual droplets of light onto the portrait covered walls and threadbare carpet, and it occurred to her that she was probably better off not seeing the place in all its miserable glory. They descended a flight of stairs into a basement kitchen. It was a disgusting place, with more light than the hall, but just as much gloom. A long table stood in the center of the room and there were several other people there already.

She froze on the spot. There was a tall thin man with long shaggy black hair and the traces of a once-handsome face that was now just tired sitting at the table. She recognized him instantly.

Her head suddenly felt like it was plunged into a vat of icy water, her heart leapt into her throat and without meaning to she drew in a sharp breath and a gasp escaped her lips.

See, the voice in her head told her rather smugly, I told you this was a terrible idea. Now your in for it, not only will you lose your job, but your mother will disown you, and that is all assuming you make it out of here alive. How could you be so stupid? But, wait, this doesn’t fit. The voice suddenly said, Why would the likes of Mad-Eye Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt consort with an escaped murderer as notorious as Sirius Black?

Then she reacted; her wand was out and trained on Sirius Black’s head in a second. Everyone in the room watched, but no one drew their wands or spoke for several minutes. It was as though they had been expecting her to react just as she did. Tonks kept her wand on Sirius Black, but surveyed the room. There were four other people there aside from Black, Mad-Eye (who had moved from the doorway and stood to her left), Kingsley (who simply watched from a few feet to her right) and herself; a short chubby red-haired woman with a pleasant face who seemed to look at her with sad understanding; a tall thin red-haired man who’s face was kind, but showed little of what he was feeling; another tall man was standing nearest to Black, but he had light brown hair, his handsome face was tired and thin, and he looked a quite ill; the last face was one that she knew, it was Minerva McGonagall, her former professor.

Tonks looked at McGonagall with an expression of utmost confusion and bewilderment, but the professor’s face remained stoic and her lips pinched together in an even thinner line. Tonks had the impression that the witch wanted very much to explain the situation, but refrained from doing so.

Then suddenly the kitchen door behind her was thrown open, hitting her hard in the back and sending her forward onto her face on the grimy, dust covered floor. Quickly she rolled onto her back and pointed her wand up at the figure who had just entered the kitchen.

“Well, well, Nymphadora Tonks, why am I not surprised to find you on the floor?”

Severus Snape strode into the kitchen with the air of a man to whom the entire world turns if ever they are in need. His ugly black robes wafting about and his greasy black hair hanging limply to his shoulders.

Kingsley moved to her and offered his hand to help her up. She did not take it, preferring instead to stand of her own accord. She ignore the jabbing pain in her back as she stood and looked from face to face, some she knew, others she didn’t, nor did she know if she wanted to. They all just stared back at her.

Well, is someone going to say something or are we all going to stand around and try to catch flies with our mouths?” Mad-Eye asked quite abruptly.

“Something.” Sirius Black stated rather matter of factly.

“Oh, very witty, Black. Please astound us again with your remarkable humor.” Snape said coldly from the farthest corner of the kitchen, where he had settled himself into the shadows.

Sirius Black was standing now, a look of quiet mirth on his face. “Hey do me a favor, Snape, don’t touch anything. There’s already enough greasy filth in this house.” Were they joking? She was standing in a room full of Aurors, professors and an escaped convict and they were making jokes and bickering? They had all gone round the bend, no, they were all round the bend, down the lane and out in the middle of the country!

“This is seriously not funny.” Tonks said finally her resolve and sanity both teetering and about ready to crash around her in a pile.

“Hey, Sirius is right here and he is very funny when he wants to be.” Sirius said, an amused gleam in his eye.

“Not the time, Sirius” The brown-haired man said quietly.

“Look… Nymphadora,”

Sirius had taken a few steps toward her, but she recoiled and he stopped walking. It was a testament to how uneasy and unnerved she felt that she did not react to the use of her given name.

“With the exception of Snivellus, here, you’ve got a room full of trustworthy people who are willing to back me up. None of whom have a Dark Mark or are in any way associated with Voldemort.” He paused, glancing at Snape and added, for what Tonks thought must have been pure spite, “Again, with the exception of Snivellus, of course.”

She saw Snape’s hand move to his pocket and Sirius’s tighten around his own wand, though neither actually drew, they looked to be about ready to inflict massive amounts of damage upon one another. Oddly enough, this was a point in Sirius’s favor, as she never liked or trusted Snape.

“All we ask is that you listen. You are free to draw your own conclusions, but you should know the whole story from all sides, before doing so.” The brown-haired man had stepped closer to her, which also put him strategically between Sirius and Snape, a move that Tonks was sure was intentional.

“And you are…?” She said rather rudely.

“Remus Lupin.” He said.

Of course, that is why he had looked vaguely familiar. He was the werewolf who had taught at Hogwarts for a year. The same year that Sirius had escaped from Azkeban. He had been quite the talk for some time around the office as he was under investigation for aiding and abetting the convict, but was never charged with any crime.

Wait, her memory suddenly clicked on something and she turned to Kingsley, he was in charge of that case.

“Kingsley, I’d say you botched the aiding and abetting case involving Mr. Lupin here.” She said.

“Apparently I’m the worst Auror ever because I am also in charge of the hunt for Sirius, who, coincidentally, is in Bermuda this week.”

Sirius grinned, “I’d better work on my tan then.”

“COULD SOMEONE GET ON WITH THE DAMN EXPLAINING ALREADY?” Tonks screamed and caught them all off guard.

“Right,” Sirius said. “You might want to pull up a chair. This will take a while.”


FEEDBACK PLEASE (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?p=3544168#post3544168)

Okay, Chapter 2!! A big rendidtion of "You Are The Wind Beneath My Wings" goes out to Evik, Beki14, luvpotter001 and OCD4HP for their feedback. Seriously, I'm singing right now."Diiiid youuu ever knooow thaaat youuuurr myyyy heerooo?" Okay, sorry, I'm being weird. On with the story!

A/N: I’m not going to repeat the plot of Prisoner of Azkaban because I figured that everyone here knows Sirius’s story. Don’t anybody shoot me!

Enjoy the next post and leave FEEDBACK (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704)

Chapter 2
In Working Order



“So, that’s pretty much it.” Sirius said, looking at Tonks with a mixture of apprehension and sadness.

Tonks stared at him in dumbstruck silence. His story was so farfetched and absurd that it was barely believable, yet she found herself believing it. Maybe it was the sincerity in his voice or the genuine heartbreak he radiated as he recounted the past fourteen years, but she believed it, against all her training and logic, she stared at him feeling what could only have been pity.

It didn’t hurt that Remus interjected periodically with snippets of information and facts that really helped to tie the story together. Between the two of them, they created a watertight story that, though completely crazy, had no holes or imperfections whatsoever. She could not think of one question that they had not already answered throughout the course of the tale.

It was odd to be sitting there face to face with a man she had not seen in roughly fifteen years and had believed to be a murdering traitor. She had been about six or so the last time she had seen him. She remembered it because he had been so happy, his whole body emanating warmth and laughter, like a beacon of golden light he shone with sheer joy. Even at six, she had seen it. Tonks and her mother, Andromeda, had run into him at Diagon Alley and he had scooped her up, spun her in circles and bought her loads of chocolate. It was her most vivid memory of him, most were just images or half-remembered thoughts that she wasn’t even sure were real, but that one was etched into her memory forever. He was so different now, so, sad, so…broken.

As a child she had not had a lot of contact with Sirius, or any Blacks for that matter, but Sirius was different from them and her mother liked him quite a bit. Tonks suddenly realized why she had felt the sense of déjà vu earlier and remembered the address of the house in which she now sat; she and her mother had come to the square of unkempt grass down the block on a few occasions to pick up or drop off Sirius. This was all done in secret of course, for Mrs. Black would never allow her son, the heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, to associate with a “mudblood lover” such as Andromeda or her “disgusting half-blood” daughter.

“Tonks?” Remus was now standing next to her. “Tonks?”

“Sorry, I…” She shook her head to clear it and before she realized what she was saying, she said, “Why were you so happy that day in Diagon Alley? When my mum and I saw you?”

Sirius seemed thoughtful for a second, but then his face brightened considerably and he said, “That was the day Harry was born. I had just gone out to get James and Lily some things from the Apothecary, when I had bumped into you two.”

The memory seemed to bring a little of that old light and fire to his gray eyes. It made Tonks smile and she saw that Remus was grinning fondly as well.

“Are we to take it that this little family reunion was successful because, though I would love to stay here all night, I have other things to be getting on with.” Snape said from his darkened corner.

“Go get on with them then.” Tonks spat before she could stop herself.

She heard Snape huff indignantly, but he did not retort. Sirius laughed loudly, and she was sure she caught Remus smiling, though he hid it well.

“As much as I despise it, Snape’s right. You two can catch up later. Let’s get this meeting going, eh?”

They all moved to sit around the large wooden table except Snape, who remained lurking in his corner.

“Looks like this is the lot tonight. Small group, usually there are a few more people here.” Mad-Eye said. “Tonks, the only people here you don’t know are Arthur and Molly Weasley. Arthur works at the Ministry as well. Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office.”

Tonks nodded at Arthur and at Molly, who appeared to be dabbing at the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief, but smiling widely all the same.

Mad-Eye wasted no time observing the niceties, but just plowed on with business.

“Hagrid and Maxime are still trying to get to the Giants. So far, it’s been slow going from what we know. As I am sure you all know, Dumbledore has just been voted out of the International Confederation of Wizards – ”

“What, when?” Tonks gasped. She did not know that he had been voted out. She had heard of his demotion from the Wizengamot, the week before, but she had no idea he’d been ousted from the ICW as well.

Apparently the shock showed on her face because Kingsley smiled ruefully at her before saying, “Just yesterday. They voted him out right after he gave a speech about Harry’s account of Voldemort’s return.”

“And they thought he was lying.” Tonks said, her temper starting to rise. “And Fudge probably said that Dumbledore was trying to take over his job, right? Probably tried to say that he was old and senile and that Harry Potter was disturbed? That ruddy coward.”

“Hit the nail on the head.” Arthur said. “But this is bad news for us. The more they focus on Dumbledore, the less they focus on Voldemort. And with the Dailey Prophet printing all the nonsense that the Ministry feeds them, no one is going to accept the truth until it is too late.”

“So, what we need the three of you to do,” Mad-Eye gestured to Arthur, Kingsley and Tonks, “is keep your ears and eyes open around the Ministry. We need to know who comes and goes and who they see while they’re there. Tonks, you especially will need to keep tabs on a few of the other Aurors, namely, Flint Pyle. You know him?”

How could she not know Flint Pyle? Pyle was notorious for not nabbing a single Death Eater before or after Voldemort’s fall. Well beyond seventy and old even by Wizarding standards, he was rumored to be a faithful follower of Voldemort’s, though no one was able to ever prove it.

“Yeah I know him. I’ll see if I can convince him to let me tag along on a couple of cases. I have some field hours to catch up on by the end of the month anyway.”

“Good.” Moody growled. “Arthur, Molly, anything from your end?”

“Gringotts has approved Bill’s request for a job in London. He will be here tomorrow.” Molly said happily.

“And Charlie has had some mild success in Romania. He has recruited at least four of his colleagues.” There was a round of approving chatter before Arthur added. “The only thing I have to report from the Ministry end is that Lucius Malfoy has been in and out of Fudge’s office three times this week. I have some reliable intelligence that Lucius left Fudge’s office in a temper on Wednesday and didn’t return all week.”

“Good.” Remus said, looking rather pleased at this news. He paused a moment before adding his information, “I have been trying to get an idea about the general Werewolf opinion in regards to Voldemort and most of them don’t believe he’s back. However, most of them, the ones I have spoken to anyway, are willing to entertain any offers he should propose.”

Mad-Eye grumbled something indiscernible and Sirius sighed heavily. This was disturbing news for the Order. If Voldemort approached the right Werewolves with the right offer they would side with him. With the current anti-Werewolf regime in the Ministry, the general public’s opinion of them was not good, which gave Voldemort a leg up, as all he had to do was offer them rights the Ministry refused them.

“Any sign of Greyback?” Sirius asked.

“Not that I’m aware of.” Remus answered, his voice harsher than before. “But if he comes around he’ll have followers and they’ll take up ranks with Voldemort no question.”

“Any Hogwarts news, Minerva?” Mad-Eye turned his attention to the dark-haired, stern professor.

“Yes. Albus has asked us to set up a constant watch of Harry. No, no, Sirius. Let me finish.” She said when Sirius started to interrupt. “Arabella Figg, who lives very near the Dursley’s has been keeping an eye on him, but we need constant watch, and she can’t watch him twenty-four hours a day. Albus doesn’t want Harry to know about it either.”

“Why? I feel bad enough not being able to tell him anything. He’s written me two letters already practically begging for information. Information that I have been forbidden from divulging!” Sirius was angry now and Tonks understood why. It was very hard to lie to the people you loved, harder still when it’s about something directly involving them.

“He’s going to figure out that he’s being watched and he’s going to be angry and feel betrayed.” Said Sirius.

“Albus feels that Harry is better off trying to have as peaceful a summer as possible. Any contact with the Order or the Wizarding World will only add to his anxiety.”

“That is going to backfire.” Sirius said; his face resigned but angry.

Remus appeared to be staring thoughtfully at a knot in the wooden tabletop. He said nothing, but Tonks thought that he agreed with Sirius.

“Not that I’m agreeing with Black, but Potter is unremittingly nosey. He’s incapable of minding his own business. I have no doubt that he’ll discover that he is being watched.” Snape said without stepping out of his corner.

“Doesn’t this count as his business? You know, since he’s the one being stalked?” Tonks said without bothering to sound polite.

“We’ll use my spare Invisibility Cloak and we can use Figg’s house as a home base.” Mad-Eye stated before Snape could repond to Tonks.

“Okay, but who’s going to watch him?” Remus had looked up from the knot. “Most of us are far too busy to follow Harry.”

“Albus gave me a list of people to contact that he feels will be able and willing to help.” McGonagall said. “I will contact them and fill you in next week.”

It was Snape’s turn to take the floor. He stepped away from the wall, but did not stand very near the table and seemed to enjoy looking down at them.

“I have been able to gather some information that may be vital. Apparently the Dark Lord is seeking something that is inside the Department of Mysteries. He is, for lack of a better word, obsessed with obtaining the object, whatever it is. At this point, however, he needs to maintain a low profile and work on building up his army, so he is not yet actively pursuing the object, but he will be and probably very soon.”

“Have you informed Dumbledore?” Remus asked, having completely abandoned the knot he had, again, been staring at.

“Of course. He has instructed me to tell you that he will inform us when he feels we need to get involved with this particular matter.” Snape’s lip curled into a very self-important sneer.

“Okay, we wait for Dumbledore’s orders on Snape’s information, then. Anything else?” Mad-Eye asked, looking from person to person, each saying nothing.

“Then, welcome Nymphadora and meeting adjourned.”

“Tonks, Mad-Eye, just Tonks.”

The meeting broke and Snape left immediately, without any farewell whatsoever, which suited Tonks just fine. The less she had to interact with him the better. McGonagall spoke briefly with Molly, before saying a general goodbye, a welcome to Tonks and exiting. Everyone else remained in the kitchen.

Molly went directly to the stove and began to chop vegetables and fry steaks and knead dough and a million other domestic things that Tonks was never able to master.

“Tonks dear,” Molly said over her shoulder, “won’t you join us for dinner?”

“I would love to.” Tonks grinned at her. “Is there anything I can help with?”

“No, no. You just visit.” Molly said and Tonks could have sworn that the woman had teared up again.

“Tonks,” Kingsley was standing now, “I have to go, but you stay. You can apparate home once you reach the end of the block.”

“Okay, goodnight.” She said as Kingsley left with Mad-Eye limping loudly behind him.

“I’ll walk you out.” Said Arthur, and they all trooped out of the room.

“So, cousin of mine, how has life been to you?” Sirius was leaning back, his chair on two legs and his hands clasped casually behind his head.

“Fine, I guess. Actually, pretty bloody boring until tonight.”

“Well, I must commend you on your open mindedness and your truly wonderful treatment of Snape.”

“I have been wanting to talk to that git like that since I was eleven.” Tonks smiled.

“A Black you are, no question. Speaking of which, how is your mother?” Sirius very unconvincingly tried to make it a throwaway question, but she saw right through him. He always loved Andromeda and must have been dying to inquire after her.

“She is very well. She and Dad are living in France now. They’re both working at St. Phora’s Hospital for Magical Woes and Grievances in Paris.”

“Remus here knows your mum too.”

“I met her a few times many years ago. I wouldn’t presume to say that I know her.” Remus said quietly.

This one is going to be a hard egg to crack, Tonks observed.

Remus Lupin appeared to be the exact opposite of what he was supposed to be. She, herself, had no prejudice against Werewolves, but the general consensus was that they were vicious and temperamental creatures that would tear you to shreds just as soon as look at you. This was clearly not the case with Remus. If anything, from what their brief encounter revealed to her, he was a very nice, calm and controlled man, who, by no stretch of the imagination, could be classified as vicious.

“When did you meet her?” Tonks asked, surveying Remus.

“There were a few times when we were teenagers that James and I accompanied Sirius to visit her.”

“I think I remember a few of those. There is one memory that I have involving a particularly frightening Christmas tale acted out by a large black dog, a stag, a rat and a man, who must have been you Remus.”

Sirius laughed and nodded. “Yes, that happened. We thought it would be fun to act out Christmas Carols for you as animals. Remus had to play Santa Clause because well, you wouldn’t have wanted to meet him in his animal form, but you didn’t really think it was so funny.”

“Went screaming from the room, if I recall. I think you actually crashed into the Christmas tree and knocked it over.” Remus added smiling.

“Scarred me for life you know. Can’t listen to carolers without breaking out into a cold sweat.” She joked.

Then the kitchen door swung open and the room was filled with teenagers. Many red-haired teenagers with freckles, the two oldest were twins and appeared to be rolling up some strange flesh colored string. There was another boy, younger, but obviously a brother and a sister who looked to be the youngest of the lot. Then there was one who didn’t fit, a bushy brown-haired girl with no freckles and was dressed in Muggle clothes instead of robes like the others.

“Hello Hermione. When did you get here?” Sirius asked the girl.

“Hi Sirius. Just now, my mum and dad dropped me off.” She smiled widely and sat down at the table with them. “Hello Professor Lupin, how are you?”

“I am well, thank you. Hermione Granger, this is Nymphadora - ”

“TONKS!”

“Tonks, who prefers her surname only. She has just joined the Order.”

“Why can’t we join? We’re of age.” One of the twins said loudly. Tonks had the impression that this was a common question because everyone sighed and Molly silenced the boy with a stern look.

“Nice to meet you.” Hermione said politely.

“And this is three-quarters of the Weasley lot.” Remus said pointing to all of the red-haired teenagers. “Those are what we call a Fred and a George. Trouble. You’ll want to keep an eye on them.”

Fred and George smiled proudly at their introduction and plopped down at the table.

“That is Ron. He and Hermione are Harry’s best friends.” Sirius added. “And Ginny has the misfortune of being the youngest and only girl, but I daresay she manages beautifully. Compliments on your excellent dung-bomb explosion last night.”

Ginny smiled widely at Sirius who was mock bowing to her.

“That was you?” Ron yelled. “I had to take three showers and Scourgify myself to get rid of the smell.”

They all laughed, except for Ron of course, until Molly interrupted.

“If I hear of one more prank, you are all going back to the Burrow and staying there! Now get up and help with dinner.”

There were several groans of annoyance and protest, but the group of teenagers got up and set to work helping with dinner.

“What did you mean three-quarters of the Weasleys?” Tonks asked Remus.

“Oh, well, the oldest, Bill, will be here tomorrow.”

“The one who works for Gringotts?” Tonks said, remembering the conversation earlier during the meeting.

“Yes, and Charlie is in Romania. He works as a Dragon Handler.”

Tonks nodded in understanding, “Right, the one who has four new members.”

Remus leaned in a little closer to her and lowered his voice as though telling a great secret. “And there’s one other. Percy. He works at the Ministry for Fudge, but I wouldn’t mention him. They’ve had a falling out, Molly’s taking it quite hard.”

“Right.” She said nodding.

It wasn’t long before dinner was finished and they were all settled around the table, savoring Molly’s delicious meal. There was much conversation during the meal, mostly about lighthearted topics such as, Quidditch (Ron was thrilled to learn that Tonks was a Chudley Cannons fan and had played on the Gryffindor team when she was at school), and O.W.L.s (Hermione had already started studying), and music (Tonks and Ginny agreed that the Weird Sisters were way better than the Acromantulas, who Fred and George insisted were better).

It was strange to Tonks that she was there, in a decrepit old house, that was filled with rubbish and mold and centuries of her family’s history, among those people; a rediscovered cousin, a man (not to mention Werewolf) whom she had know as a child, but had forgotten, a group of hoodlum teenagers and two of the sweetest people she had ever met.

By the time she left number twelve Grimmauld Place, she felt like one of the group, a member of some adoptive family, a part of something bigger, and she found herself more excited about going to work the next day than she ever had before, for tomorrow she would embark on a new adventure, one with meaning and purpose; she would begin her work for the Order of the Phoenix.

She walked to the end of the block, to the place where she could safely Apparate and smiled to herself, What a motley crew of heroes, she thought.

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Chapter 3
A Pyle of Rubbish

The next morning Tonks walked into the Auror office with her head held high (and glowing pink) and the confidence and determination of a woman with a purpose; a woman on a mission. Her entire life had gained new meaning; she had been given a chance to do something for the well being of the world and she was determined to do everything in her power to make certain that the Order was successful.

The first thing she did upon arrival at work was to seek out Flint Pyle. She found him at his desk, starring off into space, a look of emptiness in his eyes. He was a short thin man with dark gray hair and deep brown eyes. Unlike effective Aurors such as Mad-Eye, Pyle bore no marks of battle or the toughened demeanor that suggested years of fighting and hunting, in fact he looked positively weak, invalid-like.

“Pyle, can I have a word?” Tonks said, causing him to jump, as he apparently hadn’t noticed her walk up.

Not expecting him to react as he did, Tonks took a surprised step back, tripped on the rubbish bin and fell flat onto the floor.

The clatter had drawn some looks, but most of the other Aurors were used to Tonk’s clumsiness and quickly resumed whatever they had been doing previously. She pulled herself to her feet as quickly as possible and did her best to look dignified.

“I have some field hours I need to complete and Kingsley suggested that I ask if you needed any help.” Not a complete lie.

Pyle inspected her up and down, his eyes lingering around her chest area, which gave her the creepy feeling that he was surveying whether or not she was attractive enough to allow along.

She wanted to scream “PIG!”, but she needed to keep tabs on him so she settled for simply thinking as many derogatory and nasty names that she could come up with.

“Okay,” he said after a long moment, “you can come. Here’s the file. Read through it and meet me at the elevators in one hour.”

She took the rather thin roll of parchment that he was holding out and quickly walked back to her own cubicle. She unrolled the file and read it thru. It was an Illegal Distribution of Controlled Substances case. Affixed to the top of the parchment was a picture of a dodgy looking man, his eyes darting from side to side.

Name: Grumble, Preston George
D.O.B: 3/20/1959
WIZID: [I]906-34-1290
Address: Unknown
Height: 5’9”
Weight: 180 lbs
Hair: Dark brown
Eyes: Brown
Distinguishing Marks: None
Crime: Grumble, Preston is wanted for the selling of the following list of potions to underage and unqualified wizards:

Amortentia
Felix Felicis
Polyjuice
Wolfsbane
Veritaserum

All of the above listed potions are classified as Controlled Substances and legally sold/administered only by licensed Healers or Apothecaries.

There was also a separate piece of parchment that Tonks figured must have been given to Pyle by an informant.

Grumble will be at The Crow’s Craw to make a deal on June 30th.

Tonks rubbed at her eyes and groaned. This was going to be a stakeout. She was going to have to sit in a dingy booth in a seedy pub with creepy Pyle for hours while waiting for Grumble to make his deal.

Actually, this might turn out okay, the practical part of her brain pointed out. You’ll be stuck in an enclosed space with an abundance of booze for a prolonged period of time. You can wriggle some useful information out of him. Just give yourself giant knockers and open the front of your robes.

Smiling at what Mad-Eye and Kingsley would say to this reasoning, Tonks rose from her desk and headed back to Pyle’s.

She found him seated just as before: a vacant expression and the possibility of drool at any moment. For a split second she considered checking for a pulse, but decided against it, clearing her throat loudly instead.

Pyle looked up, then preceded to look her up and down, lingering on her chest area once again.

W@nker!

“Tonks.” He nodded in greeting.

“Er, I had an idea. I thought we’d wait at the Crow’s Craw for Grumble and then when he comes in I’ll morph and sit near enough to him that I can hear the deal going down and we’ll have him. Easy and clean cut.” And your lazy bum won’t have to do anything so I can get you drunk and ask you questions.

“Good, good.” He seemed to have come out of his trance now and stood up very abruptly, which nearly caused Tonks to repeat her mishap from earlier that morning, but she was knew better this time and stopped herself from stepping on the rubbish bin.

Note to Self: Beware of sudden movements.

“Let’s be off then.” Pyle said, walking past her and toward the elevators.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Three hours later, Tonks and Pyle were still sitting in the Crow’s Craw having seen no sign of Grumble or anything else even remotely suspicious. Pyle, unlike Tonks, was in an uncharacteristically good mood (it could have also been the Firewhisky) and talking to her incessantly about various members of her mother’s family and how much he liked them.

“That Elladora, great gal. I know her obsession with beheading the House Elves was er…unconventional, but it was really meant to secure their place in the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. She wanted them to be remembered, you know?”

Tonks did not respond to this, so he mumbled on and on and on.

“…broke her heart when Sirius was placed in Gryffindor…Quite the kid, that Regulus….Bellatrix was always so full of potential, tragic, poor girl….”

Are you kidding, God? Am I really here, doing this? This is my fate?

Despite his willingness to chatter, Pyle was determinedly unwilling to discuss anything other than the assorted members of the Black family. Tonks prodded him with subtle political questions, but he just ignored her and continued to discuss Black family dynamics. So she upped the ante and tried outright asking his opinion of Voldemort, to which he answered very cryptically.

“Well, we’ll all be on a side in the end, won’t we?”

Very irritated that her attempts to pry information from Pyle were coming up fruitless, Tonks sunk down into the booth even deeper, a frown dominating her face, which looked actually nothing like her face. She had disguised herself as a tall woman with long brown hair, a straight thin nose and blue eyes. And, yes, giant knockers, though they appeared to be having no affect on Pyle whatsoever.

He chattered on for several minutes before suddenly falling asleep, his head bobbing about on his shoulders.

“At least I’m not the only one who finds you boring.” She said to herself.

It was only about another half hour before Grumble entered the bar and took up a place in a corner booth. He looked just like his picture; even his eyes darted around nervously, though he may have lost a few pounds since the picture was taken. He seemed rather forlorn and spoke only to the bartender before sitting in a booth on the opposite end of the bar. A few minutes later the bartender brought him what looked like a Firewhisky.

Within five minutes a pair of kids, no older than fifteen entered the pub and sat in the booth with Grumble.

The two underage wizards were both male. One was tall and rather troll-like, the other was thin and pale. Tonks recognized the second boy immediately. It was Draco Malfoy, her dear cousin.

Oh, this should be fun.

She prodded Pyle, who was now drooling on his robes.

“Whasamatter?”

“Grumble’s about to make a deal.”

Pyle’s eyes opened wide and he sat up straighter. “Okay, Tonnnks, go ferr it.” He slurred.

Tonks slid out of the booth and took up a stool at the bar only feet from where Grumble and the boys were huddled together, hoping desperately that she didn’t need any back-up because Pyle was darn near useless now.

“You’re sure this will work?” Draco said.

“Of course. I would never give you something less than stellar.” Grumble said.

“Good because if my father found out that I was cheated there would be a price to pay.”

Yeah, and if your father found out you were buying illegal potions in a low-class pub from a vagrant, he’d bee really pleased , thought Tonks.

The larger boy pulled several Galleons from his pocket and set them on the table.

Okay, here we go, she thought, but before she could move in, the pub door opened and the elder Malfoy entered.

Lucius Malfoy’s sickening glare swept across the room, his nose turned up in disgust. Tonks had a sudden memory of Narcissa from many years before, having a similar expression when she had looked at Tonks’s father.

Spotting his son, Malfoy crossed the room to where Draco was now shamefully looking at his hands. The Galleons had disappeared from the tabletop and Grumble was slinking as far back in the booth as he could go.

“Draco! What are you doing in here with this filth?” He shot a look at the few patrons and the bar tender that showed great disdain.

“I was thirsty, father. I apologize for choosing a poor establishment.”

Malfoy grabbed Draco by the arm, pulled him out of the booth and thrust him toward the door. The troll-like boy followed closely behind. Halfway to the door, Tonks saw Malfoy nod a greeting to Pyle…or was it a nod of gratitude?

What exactly was going on here? Millions of questions flooded her mind, but she was unable to come up with any answers. Something about that stakeout was off kilter. Either Malfoy had really just walked in at the wrong moment (she did not believe this for a millisecond) or Pyle had tipped him off about the bust. But if he had been tipped off, how did Pyle know that Draco was the buyer? There was nothing in the file about the identities of the buyers.

Tonks slammed her hand down on the top of the bar in frustration.

“Need another?” The greasy bartender asked.

“Yes, a firewhisky.”

He poured out a shot of the smoking liquid and she drank it quickly without flinching at the burning sensation that filled her throat and stomach.

“Another?”

“No, that’ll be it for me, thanks.” She threw some money on the bar and left, not bothering to wait for Pyle or to ask what the next step was going to be. She had a sinking feeling that this case would somehow find its way to the wrong filing cabinet or the rubbish bin. She was going to have to keep a close eye on Pyle’s cases and what the outcomes were. Whether he was a Death Eater or not remained to be determined, but she had no doubt that he was crooked.

But what was eating at her even more than Pyle’s apparent lack of morals or sense of right versus wrong, was the fact that he had been so willing to bring her along even though he had no intention of carrying out the arrest. Well, he had greatly underestimated her and she was not going to sit idly by while she was made to look like an incompetent fool.


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


That night Tonks returned to number twelve Grimmauld Place. She wasn’t entirely sure why, only that it seemed better than going back to her own house, even with the grime and indiscernible gunk that coated the place. She did, after a very small amount of contemplation, have to admit to herself that she had a tiny inkling as to why she felt the need to return; people. Number twelve was full of people and her house was empty. Lately, with the constant threat of war and devastation lurking around every corner, it felt much better to be around people whom she enjoyed.

She made her way to the front door of number 12 and pressed the dusty doorbell button. A loud ominous clanging noise erupted from inside the house followed shortly by ear splitting screeches. Tonks pulled her wand out and was just about to blast the door open when it was yanked open by Molly (looking very distressed) who ushered her inside before retreating back to the kitchen.

“FILTH! SCUM! TRAITEROUS BEASTS! MUDBLOODS AND MURDERERS!”

The matted old velvet curtains on the wall had opened to reveal a hideous painting of Walburga Black. She was darting around in her frame, scratching at the canvas as though she could claw her way out and screaming at the top of her lungs.

Sirius and a tall red-haired man, whom she figured must have been Bill Weasley, were trying to force the curtains closed. After much struggling and some very nasty name-calling from all sides, they managed to get the portrait covered and the screeching stopped.

“Try not to ring the doorbell, it tends to upset the resident Hag.” Sirius smiled at her. “Welcome back, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

“I don’t know exactly. Just felt like dropping by.” There must have been some residual gloom in her voice from the horrible stakeout that afternoon because Sirius threw and arm around her shoulder and steered her toward the kitchen.

“Come, we’ll drown our sorrows and pity ourselves. Oh, and that’s Bill Weasley.” He said jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

Sirius did not remove his arm from Tonks’s shoulder so she had to try and crane her neck around to see Bill who was behind them.

“Hi.” She said, still being dragged into the kitchen.

“Hi.” Bill smiled at her and followed them down the hall.

When they reached the kitchen, they found no teenagers or Arthur or Remus, only Molly and themselves.

“Where is everybody?”

Molly, who was loudly cleaning up the dinner mess, answered her, “The children,” she said in a very harsh tone, “are all in their rooms cleaning out any unsanitary creatures and Arthur is still at work.”

“And Remus?” Tonks asked.

Sirius looked upward quite dramatically and said, “The moon is unusually large tonight.”

Tonks and Bill both laughed.

“Oh, right.”

Molly banged about with her pots and pans and quickly left the room in a huff.

“What did the hooligans do?” Tonks asked, looking from Sirius to Bill.

“What didn’t they do?” Bill smiled. He was an attractive man in his late twenties with long red hair and a fang earring that made him look slightly menacing, but only slightly. In fact, he was very much her type of person. She knew him from school of course, though she knew Charlie better as he was only a year ahead of her. With all of the things on her mind the night before, she had not put two and two together when they had been discussing the Weasley lot. She felt really silly for not realizing that Charlie Weasley was the Charlie from school, but she had been rather out of sorts.

“It seems Fred and George have invented something called Canary Creams, which, should you be so stupid as to eat something given you by either of them, turn you temporarily into a canary.” Sirius explained.

Tonks winced at the possible ramifications of this and said, “Who ate one?”

“Mum.” Bill said, fighting a smile, but losing.

“Ooh, no wonder she’s in such a bad mood. And she’s punished all of them for it?”

“Well, they all did know what would happen and let her eat it anyway.”

“I see.”

“So, lets get on with this pity party.” Sirius had pulled a large bottle of Firewhisky from a shelf and was pouring out three glasses full, which they all drank quickly.

Tonks immediately felt her spirits rise as the amber colored liquid scorched its way down her throat and melted away all of the tension that she had been carrying around since earlier that day.

As the trio made their way through the bottle of whiskey, Tonks found that conversation came quickly and laughs came easily. They spent half the night there at that kitchen table enjoying each other’s company and she found herself wondering how she had managed without these kind of people in her life for so long. Her parents were in another country and what family she did have she didn’t speak to, and her friends were all married with children and lives outside of the Auror Office. It suddenly occurred to her, with a twinge of regret, that the last three years of her life had been spent mostly alone or with people she barely knew. She had basically put her life on hold to become…what…a bottom of the pile kid, whom no one respected or bothered to give a decent chance at proving herself?

Well, sod that. No more, no more of being miserable and getting nowhere.

She glanced across the table at Bill and to her left at Sirius and she was tremendously grateful for these people who had accepted her so readily, who had never questioned her abilities and had allowed her to prove herself worthy without first labeling or pre-judging her.

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Hi again and thank you to my reviewers! This next chapter comes a little late because I have been fussing with the plot. Eeeekkk! Not a good idea, but I've had a few bursts of creativity and had to find a way to work them in. I think I've got it all sorted out now.

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Chapter 4
Watchers


The following weeks passed in a flurry of names and pictures and parchment as Tonks worked double-time on her mountainous paperwork in order to have more time to do her work for the Order. She managed to finish all of the paperwork that was stacked upon her desk as well as some new piles that “miraculously” materialized whenever she was away from the desk. Though normally the dumping of paperwork on her by other Aurors would have infuriated her, she took it all in stride. She simply completed it and filed it and moved on. The disputes over paperwork were far too petty and trivial to get worked up about.

Every free minute that she was able to steal, she lingered around Pyle and his cronies. Somehow she had managed to wriggles her way into their little group. She suspected that her quiet discretion in regards to the Grumble case had something to do with their acceptance of her. Tonks had only passed her suspicions regarding Pyle’s loyalties on to the other Order members and not her superiors, but she had acted pleasantly dumb when Pyle had mentioned the failed bust. He had congratulated her on a clever disguise and a good plan, but blamed Lucius Malfoy for the failure.

“Too bad Malfoy showed up.” He had said, a look of what she assumed was meant to be wise understanding, but came up short and looked more like pretension.

Tonks, knowing that telling him off or voicing her suspicions would be counter productive, smiled and agreed vapidly that Lucius’s unexpected appearance had ruined the stakeout, but she had not forgotten to keep and eye on the case anyway. And with everyone dumping his or her paperwork in her lap that was easier than she thought.

In fact, there were a few closed cases that came across her desk that she intended to investigate, as they had looked a little suspicious. Not so coincidentally, the files that she had tucked into her top drawer were those of Pyle’s two lackeys; Spectra Sherwood, a tall burly blonde woman with broad shoulders and a very square jaw; and Blaine Seacole, a heavy set man nearing Pyle’s age, with a sagging brow and permanent scowl. All three of them were at the top of the Order’s Suspected Evil Spy List (Sirius had named the list) and worth watching in case of odd behavior or forearm pain.

Apparently Pyle had reassured Sherwood and Seacole that Tonks could be trusted because they had been very chilly to her in the first few days of her insistent hanging on, but by day four they were all smiles (okay, more like smaller frowns than actual smiles, but it was an improvement over outright suspicion and annoyance) and lax with their information, not that there was a whole lot of it.

Things had been quiet around the Auror Office and Tonks was of the rare opinion that they were too quiet, the calm before the storm, as they say. Most of the other Aurors were reveling in the calm, but she knew it was too good to last. The most excitement they had in three whole weeks was when Dawlish got a tip about a possible robbery at Borgin and Burkes on Knockturn Alley. Had the robbery actually happened, Tonks would have been mildly interested as Borgin and Burkes was a very suspicious Dark Magic retailer and the crime would have reeked of Death Eaters, but as it turned out, the robbery never took place and Dawlish stomped around the office for three days, mumbling to himself about “shoddy investigative work” and “bloody unreliable informants.”

But though work was uncomfortably relaxed, business with the Order was moving at a much faster clip. With each passing meeting a new face appeared, many, such as Dedalus Diggle, Emmeline Vance, Sturgis Podmore and Elphias Doge, were former members, whom had come back with a wealth of experience from the first go-round fifteen years before, something Tonks appreciated much more with each original member she met. There were fresh new members as well. Mundungus Fletcher, among the most questionable. Dung, as he was so referred, was a common crook, a petty thief, but Dumbledore trusted him and so did they all, begrudgingly for some; Mad-Eye, Kingsley and Molly among the most vocal, but all in all they accepted him in all his stinky tobacco smelling glory. He was no worse than Snape, really.

Snape was a real bone of contention, Tonks soon learned. It was very clear from her first meeting that Snape and Sirius did not coexist peacefully and they never would. Putting those two in a room together was like locking two angry Vampires in a cage together and letting them fight it out; neither was going to win, only beat each other senseless. But Snape was an open wound for others as well. Mad-Eye never trusted a single piece of information that Snape told him until discussing it at length with Dumbledore, and he maintained constant watch over him with his magical eye whenever Snape was in the room. Kingsley was always skeptical and though Tonks had no proof, she suspected that Kingsley waited for Mad-Eye’s account of Dumbledore’s opinion before accepting Snape’s intelligence as genuine. Remus was a bit more trusting, he seemed to spend more time mulling over Snape’s information and questioning Snape directly about any oddities or inconsistencies. He was always interested in Dumbledore’s opinion, but he usually formed his own prior to receiving the inevitable “all-clear” from Dumbledore.

It had certainly been an interesting couple of weeks. She mused as she approached the door of her cousin’s decrepit old house. It was slowly becoming inhabitable thanks to Molly and her hoard of indentured servants, but there was still much to do. The kitchen and a few of the bedrooms were relatively free of wild vermin and magical traps and evil objects (Tonks had encountered a particularly mean hat box one day when helping Molly clean out a closet, which kind of set her off the task for a while), but it was a big house and most of the rooms were still teeming with undiscovered creatures.

Tonks shifted the book bag that she had hung over one shoulder and knocked on the door. She was greeted by Remus, who looked very tired and sickly, but smiled fondly anyway. “Welcome back to the Nasty and Most Abhorred House of Black…ness.” He added the suffix thoughtfully as though trying to decide if it was necessary.

Tonks raised an eyebrow, “have you been drinking?”

“No. I’ve just been around Sirius too long, he’s starting to rub off.”

“Get out now, while you still can!” she stage whispered.

“Get in here and shut that blasted door!” A voice growled from down the hall.

Tonks, surprised by the sudden appearance of Mad-Eye, jumped, tripping over the gnarled old stump of a Troll’s leg that Walburga Black had had the fabulous idea to use as an umbrella stand, lost her footing and crashed with a loud clang to the floor, her bag spilling folders and rolls of parchment everywhere. Remus’s hand had shot out to try and catch her, but had only managed to grab a fistful of sleeve, which did nothing to stop her tumble.

And then the inevitable came; Sirius’s mother’s portrait awoke with a scream, the mournful ugly black curtains hanging in front of her, whipped open to reveal the woman’s furious face, mouth opened in horror.

“DIRT! SCUM! YOU DEFILE MY ANCESTORS AND RUIN THE - ”

She stopped dead, staring at Tonks and Remus, the later was pulling the former back to standing and untangling her from the Troll leg.

“AHHH!!! YOU SHAME THE NAME OF BLACK! OUT! OUT OF MY HOUSE! AND YOU! HALF BLOOD CREATURE!”

Mad-Eye had hobbled up to the painting, his wooden leg clanging loudly into the din of screams, and yanked on the curtains, but they had resisted, trying to thrash out of his grip. Remus ran over to help and together the two were able to pull the belting and whipping curtains closed, Walburga’s twisted and horrific face still screaming until the very last sliver of her canvas was covered.

Several other Order members had come out of the kitchen to see what all of the ruckus had been about and were now standing at the end of the hall, wide eyed and amused.

“Not to worry.” Tonks said, holding her palms up in a calming gesture, “we’ve tamed the evil dragon-woman and it is again safe to inhabit this hallway.”

Molly, who was looking at the overturned Troll’s leg knowingly, shook her head and headed back toward the kitchen, looking exasperated and worn. Tonks had more than a little sympathy for the woman. She had it harder than any of them, being in that god-awful house with five pestilent teenagers, Sirius and his cabin fever, and the wealth of mysterious objects, which may or may not try to kill, maim, eat or dismember you at any moment. Molly’s was not an easy job, not to mention ninety-nine percent of her family were directly involved with the Order of the Phoenix, whether actual members or just living at headquarters, her whole livelihood was in the path of a rampaging Hippogriff and there was little she could do to change that. It must have been a helpless feeling.

She and Remus managed to gather up all of her folders and parchment and they followed the small clump of people into the kitchen, where she was surprised to find Albus Dumbledore among the group seated at the table. His long white hair and matching beard spilled about his face, which was lit in a pleasant smile, his blue eyes twinkling. He appeared to be enjoying a joke with Fred and George, who were laughing heartily at something he must have just said.

“Okay, they’re here. Off with you! I will not have you lingering about any longer. Go!” And Molly shoed her middle children out of the kitchen, promptly casting an Imperturbable Charm on the door as it closed behind them.

“What’s with the charm?” Tonks asked Remus as quietly as possible.

“The twins seem to have invented something called Extendable Ears and have been listening around for a while.” Remus said in a serious tone, but made a face somewhere between pride and exasperation. But the amusement in his eyes was most telling.

So, he thought they were funny, even though he knew better then to admit it.

She was about to call him out on his true feelings on the subject, but a voice cut her off.

“Ah, Nymphadora, lovely to see you.” Dumbledore said, rising from his seat. “Do sit down.”

“Hello Professor.” She rounded the table and sat between Sirius and Hestia Jones, another new recruit. “Hope you are well.”

“Quite well, thank you. Now if you will all settle down we shall begin tonight’s meeting.”

The chatter immediately quelled and all eyes turned toward Dumbledore.

“I think it is best if we begin tonight with Kingsley’s report. Kingsley, if you please.” The ancient wizard bowed his head slightly to Kingsley who stood.

“Thank you, Albus. I’m afraid I don’t have much to report. There has been little going on at Auror headquarters. This troubles Tonks and me, as it all seems too peaceful. But quiet is quiet and until something happens, we have little to go on.” He looked very disappointed, but he was being truthful and short of going around asking questions about personal bigotry or inspecting peoples forearms, for suspicious tattoos, they simply could not look into any Death Eater activity when there was no activity at all.

“I was able to get my hands on copies of some confidential personal files.” Tonks said, pulling the folders and rolls from her bag. She passed them to Kingsley who flipped through them quickly, his eyes wide. Dumbledore peered over his shoulder, a smile fixed to his face.

“Very well done, Nymphadora.”

“When did you get these?” Kingsley was looking more than mildly impressed. “How did you get these?”

“I have a trick or two.”

“Wonderful. Sirius, if you will read through those documents, you can debrief us next meeting.”

Sirius nodded and accepted the stack of folders from Kingsley, looking very grateful at having something to do.

“Now, Remus, if you please.” Dumbledore nodded to the tired looking Werewolf.

Remus stood, he looked as though it was a painful action, but he did not wince or falter, it was just rigidity in his body that Tonks had noticed after the last full moon as well. She recalled that the night before had been a full moon; it must have been the aftermath of the transformations that caused him so much discomfort. Until she had met (or technically, re-met) Remus she had had no real contact with any Werewolves and she was beginning to forge a newfound respect and understanding for the creatures, certainly for Remus Lupin anyhow.

“I have been spending much time with a,” he seemed to try to think of an appropriate word and finally said, “coven, if you will, of particularly unruly Werewolves trying to get an idea of what their take on the situation is. As I have said before most of them do not believe that Voldemort,” there was a communal wince at the name, “is back, but I think that is about to change. There are a few members of this group who have been insisting that they have seen and spoken to Death Eaters who want to,” he made a disgusted face and paused for a second before continuing in an appalled tone, “help them regain their rights. This is exactly what we thought Voldemort (another wince) would use to convince them to back him. However, the individuals that have been trying to pass the word are quite low on the dominance chain and most of the others are not listening to them. I have been trying to spread a different message, trying to get the Order’s objectives across, but most of them are so angry about the anti-Werewolf legislations that the Ministry continues to push through that they refuse to listen. I am afraid that I have stepped on a few toes and may need to keep my distance for a short time.”

“So, at this point most are neutral, but angry and will most likely side with You-Know-Who and you ****** them off?” Diggle summarized.

“That’s the essence of it, yes.” Remus smiled sadly.

“Thank you Remus. I would like to discuss this further with you later.” Dumbledore said and Remus nodded as he sat back down.

“Mr. Fletcher, if you would please update us on, what is it you have named it, Harry Watch?”

Dung stood up, his hair ruffled and his shabby robes hanging awkwardly. Tonks suspected that a quick search of those robes would reveal a veritable treasure chest of stolen goods. She even thought she heard a clang or two as he moved.

“I didn’t name it, Sirius named it.”

“And that’s not what I named it. I named it Absurd- Intrusive-Unfair-Sure-To-Bite-You-On-The-***-Later Harry Watch.”

“Well as that title has more names than I do, which is a truly inordinate number, we shall shorten it to just, Harry Watch. Continue Mundungus.”

“Them Muggles ‘e lives with are horrible people. That kid they got’s the biggest prat I ever seen. But it’s been quiet there. ‘Arry seems pretty miserable, though.”

Sirius scowled and huffed at this and muttered under his breath, “I wonder why?”

“He sneaks around the ‘ouse reading the newspaper and watching the news on that jellyvision. For some reason the Muggles don’t like ‘im doing this. And ‘e spends a lot of ‘is time walkin’ the neighborhood.”

“But there have been no signs that You-Know-Who has tried to get to him.” Hestia Jones added. She had also been assigned to watch over Harry. “But he does seem under the weather.”

“Couldn’t possibly because he’s being kept in the dark about his life!He’s trying to find out what’s going on.” Sirius was standing now, his face angry and his fists balled at his side. “He’s checking the news obsessively, he’s wandering about and his letters are getting more desperate. He deserves to know what is going on, especially after what happened to him in that graveyard. It is cruel to leave him without any word of what is happening!”

Dumbledore sighed heavily and looked at Sirius, his eyes understanding and sad.

“Sirius, I understand your concern and it is accurately placed, justified even, to an extent. You are not wrong to feel that you are betraying Harry, however, we cannot risk the interception of letters and we cannot risk a security breach by visiting him. Furthermore, he deserves a summer without the constant threat of danger.”

“But the constant threat of danger is there regardless and – ”

But Dumbledore cut him off with a look and a wave of his hand, his blue eyes had hardened and he didn’t look as though he was in the mood for an argument.

“We shall discuss this another time, when we are not intruding upon the valuable time of the others in this room.”

Sirius did not argue, instead he reluctantly sat down, his fists still balled in frustration and his lips pursed in disagreement and anger.

“And now, Severus has some very critical information for us.”

Snape slithered out of his usual shadowed corner at the far end of the room. His disdainful sneer firmly in place. Tonks wondered, for what must have been the thousandth time since joining the Order, why Snape was there if he hated all of them so very much.

Dumbledore must really have something on you. She thought as she watched Snape take his place in the middle of the group looking down his large hooked nose at them.

“I have uncovered more information about what the Dark Lord is after in the Department of Mysteries. Apparently, he is trying to get his hands on a prophecy made about him. There is a record of it in the Hall of Prophecies.”

There was an excited murmur that swept around the room as the group reacted to this new piece of information. Some appeared shocked, some apprehensive, some thoughtful, Mad-Eye studied Dumbledore for some sort of confirmation and Tonks saw the ancient wizard nod very subtly. Mad-Eye frowned and returned his attention to Snape, his magical eye fixed intently on him as though he could see inside Snape’s soul.


Sirius and Remus exchanged a quick glance, before Remus bowed his head, his gaze on a pockmark in the old oak table that he was absently picking with his fingernails.

Molly sighed heavily as though she had just gained another weight on her already overfull back and Arthur rubbed his temple thoughtfully.

Calmly, Dumbldore raised one hand and waited for the wash of voices to subside. When he had subdued the group, he motioned for Snape to continue.

“He is, however, unable to retrieve it at this time and I have reason to believe that he has false information about the enchantments protecting it.”

Without allowing Snape so much as a breath, Dumbledore took over, “We will need to implement a watch of the door leading into the Department of Mysteries. Due to the bustle of the Ministry building during the day as well as their extensive security measures, I see no need to post a person there during the working hours of the Ministry. You will need to set watch in the evening hours, however, as the security is lacking and there are few people around.” He paused as his gaze swept the faces in the room. “This is highly dangerous; do not take this task lightly, anyone caught after hours in the Ministry will be charged with whatever crimes Fudge can place upon you, and more than likely sent to Azkaban. Alistor, if we may borrow your Invisibility Cloak, I think a few among you shall take turns sitting watch under it.”

This time there was utter silence. Tonks knew that everyone was weighing what they had just been told. Until that point very few of them had been actively participating in any sort of espionage or surveillance. Snape (and he never lost an opportunity to remind them) had been risking his life acting as a loyal Death Eater and Remus had also been putting his life in danger to gather information from the Werewolves. Even Tonks and Kingsley had been risking their jobs as well as their freedom. They surely would have been prosecuted and locked up in Azkaban for their misdeeds; him, for leading the Aurors on a wild goose chase for Sirius and; her, for stealing highly classified personal files. But, most everyone else was just getting the lay of the land; they felt around for odd behavior or dark activity and reported anything amiss at the meetings, but this was asking them to do much more and Tonks felt that some of them were going to need time to take in the reality of that.

Tonks, herself, had no problem with this plan; in fact she was secretly exhilarated by the idea. This was the sort of thing that she became an Auror to do. She had worked very hard at being a good Auror and was actually very exited that her training and time and energy was going to be put to good use, better even than if she was doing this for the Ministry, which she had decided was a corrupt, ineffective institution; it was for Dumbledore and The Order of the Phoenix, there was no better cause in her opinion.

“Nymphadora,” Dumbledore said, turning to face her, “would it be to much to ask if you could find us a plan of the Ministry building with those incredibly helpful tricks of yours?”

She couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll see what I can find.”

“Very good. Well, then, Remus, would it be possible for you to come by my office at Hogwarts to discuss a few possibilities, say, Wednesday at three?”

“Of course.” Remus answered at once, as though it was the obvious answer.

The meeting was soon officially declared over, but not before Bill and Sirius worked out a schedule of duty for the Prophecy Watch. Molly had written down dates and times on scraps of parchment for everyone and then charmed them to burn up if viewed by anyone other than the person for whom they were intended. Unfortunately, they had so few members that most of the time whomever was on Prophecy Watch, was required to stay the entire night, which meant no sleep for those of them who had day jobs.

After most of the group had filed out, leaving only those who were residing in the house and Tonks, Molly set to work fixing dinner and the brood of teenagers tromped into the room, talking in hushed tones and looking annoyed. The twins sat at the end of the table and huddled together over what Tonks decided must have been another one of their joke inventions, while Ginny, Hermione and Ron sat down and stared pointedly at Tonks and Sirius.

Tonks and Sirius shared a bewildered look.

“Yes, I really am this handsome and irresistible. You can stop staring now.” Sirius said.

“We want to know what was said in here.” Ron said abruptly.

“Ron! Hermion scolded, “you can’t be more subtle? Now we’ll never know.”

Sirius laughed at this and said, “While I am sure you could have tricked some information out of me Hermione, I am far more witty than Ron. Sorry Ron.”

Ginny tried and failed to suppress a giggle. She looked fondly at Sirius; apparently anyone who gave Ron a difficult time was okay in Ginny’s book.

“Mum,” Ginny leaned in and lowered her voice to a whisper, “put an Imperturbable Charm on the door.”

“Oh, no!” Tonks said with mock outrage, her hand over her heart, “Why oh why would she have done such a thing?”

Ginny and Hermione rolled their eyes.

“Look, she’s going to do what she can to keep you from listening, but a good way to tell if she’s Impurturbed the door is to chuck something at it.” Tonks thought for a second. “Like a Dung Bomb. I know you’ve got loads of those.”

“You can’t lift the charm when she’s not looking?” Ron asked hopefully.

“Honestly Ron.” Hermione was looking at him, her eyes narrowed as if to ask, Are you really that stupid?

“And risk death by Molly? Sorry, even I’m not that brave.” Sirius said.

Tonks heard Remus chuckle from the other end of the table where he was flipping through the files that she had brought, clearly listening to their conversation.

“You lot, set the table.” Molly said from the sink as knives chopped vegetables of their own accord and chicken breasts flipped themselves in the pan, a satisfying sizzle filled the room as hearty aromas wafted about. A spoon stirred a pan of gravy while a pot of boiling potatoes bubbled and splashed around. “And Ginny, watch these potatoes please.”

They all rose and busied themselves with the tasks that Molly assigned them looking less than satisfied with the answer they had received from Tonks and Sirius. She could understand their desire to know what was going on. They were, after all, in the epicenter of the fight against Voldemort, but were having to sneak around for information and settle for half-truths or snippets of overheard conversations or, more often than not, nothing at all.

With a sigh, Tonks moved down the length of the table to where Remus sat, engrossed in one of the files that she had stolen. He closed it as she sat and opened another, acknowledging her with a quick look up.

“How, exactly did you get these papers?”

“I made a wrong turn while I was morphed into a copy of Dawlish and ended up in the Records Hall. Oops.” She feigned confusion and innocence and Remus smiled at her.

“That’s illegal you know.” He made a very stern face and Tonks was reminded of Minerva McGonagall.

“That’s the trouble with me, I guess-”

“You mean aside from the falling?” He interrupted.

Tonks narrowed her eyes at him, but had to squash her grin, “aside from the falling, I am utterly incapable of behaving myself.”

“Us too.” Fred said, levitating a bowl of mashed potatoes across the room. The potatoes floated for a moment before rocketing off toward the door, turning a sharp right and zooming back past the table. Just as it was passing her head, Tonks reached out and plucked the bowl from its flight pattern. A groan erupted and she was, for the second time that night, met with disappointed glares.

It didn’t help her conscious that two of the group had helped defeat Voldemort twice before and Ginny had had a truly painful and traumatic experience with Voldemort’s old diary. These kids (and she used the word kids very lightly) were more versed in the area of Voldemort than most people thrice their age. They were not the average group of nosey teenagers; this particular troupe was in search of information to help, to be prepared, to better fight the evil that they knew was coming. She had great respect for the Weasley/Granger lot for their drive to do what was right and for their unrelenting, unwavering loyalty to their friends and mentors. Tonks wished that she could help them in their search for information, but she was not their parent and it was not her place to decide what was good for them. But she couldn’t help feeling as though keeping them in the dark was more dangerous than answering their questions outright.

But since dwelling on something that was entirely and permanently out of her control was pointless and unproductive, Tonks smiled broadly at Remus, Sirius and the hoard of unruly teenagers.

“Who wants to see me make my nose look like a carrot?”

There was an eruption of voices, all making approving comments or suggesting alternative vegetables. Ron suggested a pineapple, which Hermione pointed out was a fruit and Fred (or was it George) recommended broccoli.

Now this is more like it.

FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS APPRECIATED (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704)

Hi again all. Sorry it took so long, but life got in the way. Stupid life! :lol: Anyway, I am soooooooo excited about this chapter. There’s FLIRTING! :love: Hope you all like and a BIG thank you to my reviewers! Everybody else, please give the Feedback Thread (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704&page=2) a reason for being.

Chapter 5
Developmental Interests


“Zygalit?” Sirius looked up from the file he was reading. “Flint Pyle’s middle name is Zygalit? And I thought Regulus was a bad name.”

“You think that’s interesting, read a little further down.” Tonks pointed to a paragraph somewhere near the middle of the page Sirius was holding.

They had been reading through the personal files that she had nicked from the Ministry for most of the afternoon. This, though having occasional points of interest, was very boring. Mostly they learned birthdays, heights, weights, favorite foods, and other trivial pieces of information. This boring work, however, was far better than how they had spent the morning. That morning they had assisted Molly and the others in cleaning out the last of the bedrooms. Tonks had had her first experience with the house-elf called Kreacher as well; an experience she would like very much to forget, and was suddenly resentful of not having been awarded the luxury of a bad memory.

She had been wrestling with a mad rocking chair that was chasing Hermione around the room, trying desperately to rock over her toes, when a long nosed, hunch-backed house-elf, oddly resembling the decapitated heads on the wall, jumped out and started beating her over the head with a moth-eaten throw pillow that emitted clouds of dark dust with every impact. When she had finally pried him off of her, he had retreated out of the room and down the hall squealing mournfully.

She shook her head to rid the memory and continued reading the file on Belarus Redwood. His favorite food was pot roast.

Sirius was silent for a few moments while he read the paragraph she had directed him to, and then said, “Ah, well that explains loads.”

“It certainly does.”

“What explains loads?” Remus had come into the kitchen of number twelve, his hair ruffled and streaked with traces of floo powder offsetting the scattered gray that Tonks thought gave him a slightly distinguished appearance. He had just returned from his meeting with Dumbledore and he looked a little subdued, then again, Tonks thought he always looked a little subdued.

“Pyle is Cornelius Fudge’s first cousin. Fudge’s mother was a Pyle.” Sirius said as he passed the file to Remus.

“Explains the continued employment regardless of his job performance.”

“Exactly. Perfect set-up for a spy; he can do whatever he wants and not get fired or hardly even questioned. I wonder if there have been any informal inquiries into Pyle?” Sirius looked questioningly at Tonks.

“Don’t look at me, I’m still trying to work out how I’m going to get my hands on the plans of the Ministry building.”

“Ah, yes. That is a problem isn’t it?” Sirius sighed thoughtfully.

“Good of you to notice.”

“We could always make Kreacher do it. Maybe if we’re really lucky he’ll get caught.” Sirius smiled at this thought and looked hopefully at Tonks and Remus like a child who had just asked for an extra helping of ice cream.

“You didn’t have to work today?” Remus changed the subject as he crossed to the counter and grabbed a teapot. He raised the pot towards them as if to ask if they wanted a cup.

“Yes, thank you,” Tonks smiled, “and, no work today, but I have to tomorrow.”

“When is your first Prophesy Watch?” Remus tapped the teapot with his wand and steam suddenly emitted from the spout and it gave a short, but shrill whistle. He took three cups from the shelf and carried it all back to the table.

“Night after next.”

Remus poured out a cupful of the dark steaming liquid for Tonks before pouring his own and sitting down across from them.

Sirius shot Remus a nasty look (Remus didn’t seem to notice) and grabbed the teapot and poured himself a cupful.

“Do you know where the plans are kept at the Ministry?” Sirius asked.

“In the Records Hall, but they will ask all sorts of questions if anyone,” she emphasized the word ‘anyone’ to answer what she knew they were going to ask, “tried to take copies, so even if I morph into someone with clearance, I’ll probably run into a pile of suspicion.”

They all sipped their tea thoughtfully, not unlike a group of friends whom have reached a point in their friendship where no words or noises are necessary for them to feel content. It was odd to her that they were this at ease with each other, having really only known each other for a month or so. But there they were, drinking tea, lost in their own thoughts, easy with their quiet contemplation, and Tonks found some comfort in that; that friendships can be built in times of crisis, that bonds can be created despite the evil that sought to destroy them. It was a lovely reality.

“Oh, I think I’ve had a terrible idea.” Sirius said breaking her concentration and drawing a questioning look from both of his companions.

“What?” asked Remus.

“Percy Weasley.”

“What about him?” Tonks asked and she noticed the line between Remus’s brows deepen as a look of skeptical comprehension washed over him.

“That is a terrible idea, Sirius, but I think it might work.”

“What is it?” Tonks was starting to feel like she missed a very important hunk of the conversation.

“Precy is Fudge’s little errand boy now. He’s probably the only person, short of Fudge himself, who won’t be strip searched before looking at the papers.” Sirius explained.

“And Fudge would never go himself,” Remus added. “So it would be perfectly logical for Percy to get them.”

“That’s a very good idea, we just can’t let anyone else know. I don’t want to hurt Molly or Arthur.”

“That’s why I said it was terrible. If Molly found out it wouldn’t be pretty.”

They sat in silence again, but this time it was a loaded silence, the possible disaster of her new task weighing heavily on them. Pretending to be Percy really was a good idea and if she got in and got the papers and got out in a very short period of time, there was a chance she could pull it off, but it was very risky. Unlike the personal files that she had taken before, the plans of the building had to be copied by the attendant. The personal files were just stored on shelves like library books and she only had to sign Dawlish’s name to the ledger by the door and that was that. This time she would have to interact with another person and she had never met Percy so she didn’t really know what he was like.

“Well, its time to feed small dead mammals to the giant horsey-bird in my mother’s bedroom.” Sirius said, standing up and crossing to the door. “Moony, mind your manners while I’m gone.” And he grabbed a rather disgusting-looking, blood stained canvas bag from the floor by the door and exited the kitchen

“Aside from the small dead mammals, it’s no different from when his mother was still alive.” Tonks said.

“Accio biscuits.” Remus held his hand out and caught a tin of chocolate biscuits that flew out of the pantry. “I think,” he said, offering her one, “that you just insulted hippogriffs the world over.”

“Uh-oh. You’re not a member of some obscure hippogriff rights group are you?”

“Actually, I believe Hermione is considering expanding S.P.E.W to include hippogriffs and Kneazles.” Remus said without cracking so much as a smirk.

“Really? I heard that it was Manticores.”

Remus looked thoughtful for a second, his eyes directed upward as though searching his brain for some obscure piece of information. “No, no, you must be mistaken. I’m sure it was Kneazles.”

“Being a furry misunderstood animal yourself, you should definitely join.” Tonks said, nodding her head approvingly.

“If it weren’t for the sickle it costs to do so, I’d be their official spokesperson.” Remus did smile now, but Tonks had the impression that the smile was because he had just taken the last biscuit from the tin and not because of the joke he was making.

“Well, I’ll gladly loan you the sickle. We wouldn’t want to deprive you of such a life-affirming endeavor. Accio last biscuit.”

Tonks smiled broadly as the biscuit flew from Remus’s fingers just as he was about to take a bite out of it. She caught it in her palm and quickly stuffed it in her mouth before he could mutter the charm to get it back.

“Ha!” She said, crumbs falling out of her mouth very unattractively. “I win.”

“I let you win.” Remus said defiantly, though it was a thoroughly unconvincing statement, as his eyes were still fixed on his hand where the biscuit had just been.

“Oh, you did not. I won fair and square.”

Remus narrowed his eyes at her and she detected a flicker of amusement, but he didn’t grin, only eyed her in mock annoyance. They stared at each other for a moment, sizing the other up, like dogs circling one another before a fight, one getting the measure of the other. Their eyes locked in quiet appraisal, his soft brown ones on her hard dark ones and she was surprised to find herself starting to flush.

I never noticed how pretty his eyes are. She found herself thinking. Wait, what did I just think?

Then suddenly he looked away sharply, his eyes darting around for something else to look at and Tonks was sure he had quickly suppressed a blush.

“Er…its getting late. I think I’ll be off to bed.” He stood awkwardly and left the room with out another word.

Well, that was an interesting development, she thought to herself.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Next morning, Tonks quietly entered a broom cupboard down the corridor from the Records Hall armed with a picture of Percy Weasley and determination of steel. She knew this was a once in a million shot and if she was discovered it was the end of the line for her. She just prayed she didn’t get caught.

They find you out and you’re up s*** creek without a paddle. Her inner voice said.

Taking a calming breath, she looked at the picture of the Weasley family that Sirius had nicked from Ron’s trunk and focused on Percy. She committed the image to memory, closed her eyes and saw his face swim in her mind, his red hair, his freckles, his pointed superior expression. She felt the twinge behind her eye sockets that could only mean one thing.

From inside the pocket of her robes, she fished out a small mirror. Comparing her new face to the one in the picture, she decided that she had made a darn good match. She looked just like Percy Weasley, now all she had to do was act like him.

Because Sirius had never met Percy either and Remus had run away to his room, Tonks had had to wake Hermione and ask for some assistance. She decided that a non-Weasley would be more objective and wouldn’t risk ruffling any unnecessary feathers. Hermione turned out to be a wealth of information and even provided Tonks with a few impersonations, which made Sirius laugh uproariously. Unfortunately, Hermione had accurately guessed at why Tonks needed to know about Percy (Sirius had warned her that Hermione would figure it out, she should have listened), but Tonks was quick with a story to the contrary. The bushy haired teenager didn’t seem too convinced, but she did promise not to tell anyone what they had discussed, so all in all it worked out all right.

Quickly, Tonks transfigured her robes to look more like ones a man would wear and stepped out of the cupboard and right into Rufus Scrimgour.

“Er..sorry.” She said in the best man voice she could manage, which actually came out quite well.

“What are you doing in there?” Scrimgour asked.

“In there? Oh, I was looking for a…a…bathroom.” She finished lamely.

“It’s down the hall.” He pointed to a door clearly marked “Mens’ Toilets.”

“Oh, I don’t use the ones on this floor much. Got a bit turned around.” She tried to sound as nonchalant as possible and hoped to Merlin that he was buying it.

“Right.” He didn’t look like he was too convinced, but with one last questioning look, turned and walked away in the opposite direction, glancing over his shoulder every few feet.

Having no choice but to go into the bathroom or risk more questions, Tonks headed down the hall and, for the first time in her life, entered a men’s restroom. It was, in her opinion, filthy. There were only two stalls at the far end of the cold white room. Along the nearest wall were four urinals with filth and grime all around them, suggesting that the cleaning staff didn’t feel it was necessary to clean these particular urinals. Two stone sinks sat at the wall opposite the door with a large mirror hung over them.

Men!She said inwardly and pointed her wand at the urinals, “Scourgify.”

A flurry of frothy bubbles engulfed the urinals and in a second were gone, leaving only gleaming white porcelain.

To her great relief, the bathroom was empty and she was able to inspect her image in the mirror for a few moments. She made different facial expressions to reflect innocence, shock, curiosity, innocence, sadness, wonder, innocence.

“Okay, so maybe I’m over doing the innocent look.” She stared at the face of Percy Weasley in the mirror. “Oh, go on already,” his lips said.

Summoning all of the bravery and determination she had, Tonks pushed open the bathroom door and marched down the hall. She steadied her heart and suppressed the butterflies that had decided to throw a dance party in her stomach, with a deep cleansing breath. She was an Auror, this was the type of thing that she was trained to do, she could handle this, this was cake.

Bet the Ministry never thought that they’d train an Auror to breach their own system. How’s that for irony?

She entered the Records Hall, bypassing all of the rows of files and scrolls, heading for the attendant’s desk at the back of the very large room, her back straight and her chin high.

There was a tall woman with black hair and deep olive skin standing behind the high desk that was marked Attendant, Records and Files, My Name Is Vera Blottings, How May I Help You?

Before Tonks could say anything, Vera looked up and smiled.

“Ah, Percy. What is it the Minister needs this time?”

So, he’s here often. That’s good…and bad.

“Plans of the building today.” She answered, not smiling, but sounding purposeful and as though she found herself very important.

“Really? How unusual.” Vera said, not moving toward the rolls of parchment on the shelves behind her.

Aww, come on Vera, be a good girl. Just get the sodding plans and let’s be done.

“What for?” Vera asked, interestedly.

“Developmental projects, you know, upgrades and repairs. Possibly some extra precautions against…you know.”

Leave it up to her imagination, she’ll give something away.

“You mean Dumbledore?” Her eyes widened to about the size of dinner plates. “And his army?”

See. Wait, what army? Tonks opened her mouth in surprise, but shut it again quickly as realization of her current situation settled in.

“Well, I’m not supposed to say…strictly speaking.” Tonks said apologetically.

“There’s no threat to the building is there?” Vera’s eyes remained huge and she looked apprehensively about the room as though she expected Dumbledore and his “army” of ghastly and unruly witches and wizards to come bursting through the door and slaughter them all at any moment.

“No, none at all. Purely administrative.” Tonks said.

“Oh, right, sorry. Just a moment, I’ll find them for you.”

Vera turned her back and began riffling through the parchment. A moment later she spun around, a stack of thick rolls in her arms. She unrolled them all and spread them atop her desk. With her wand waving broadly over the parchments, she muttered an incantation and an equal number of scrolls appeared in a stack on the far end of the desk.

“Here you are.” Very said brightly, gathering up the copies and handing them to Tonks. “Say, is there any reason for the repairs and upgrades?”

Good Lord! What does Percy normally tell her if she’s this inquisitive?

“No, no. Its just one of the things the Minister likes to keep his eyes on. Personal interest, you might say. Very attentive, Minister Fudge, very attentive.”

“Right you are.” Vera smiled widely and turned back to the original plans. With a wave of her wand they tidied themselves and flew back to their shelves.

Tonks stuffed the plans into her book bag and made for the elevators. She waited patiently at the shiny doors, looking only at the doors and maintaining an important demeanor. Finally, the elevator doors slid back and she stepped inside with two other wizards, whom she did not know, but apparently Percy did.

“Hello, Weasley. How is everything today?” One of the wizards asked. He was a slight man, probably no taller then five feet, his curly hair, trying desperately to add another couple of inches, jutted out toward the sky from atop his head.

“Oh, very well, thank you. And yourself?” Tonks said.

“Fine, fine. What brings you to this level?”

“Records Hall for the Minister. He has me doing so many confidential tasks now it’s a great honor that he trusts me so.”

“Yes, yes, good reputation you’ve got.”

The doors slid open again and everyone, but Tonks left the elevator. No one boarded. She seized the opportunity to allow her false Percy-persona to melt away. It was always easier to return to her normal appearance and just as she was perfecting the orange that she had decided for her hair, the elevator stopped at her floor. The doors slid open with a satisfying hiss and she walked to her cubicle, feeling loads lighter than earlier. Even though she was still in possession of records she wasn’t supposed to be.

To her mild surprise, there was a folder in her In-Box. She sat at her desk, ignoring for the moment the new file, and scrawled out a note.

I’ve got it. Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron at noon.

Folding the parchment and sealing it with extra wax, she addressed it to Molly Weasley. Molly seemed like the least conspicuous person at number 12 and if the letter was intercepted, they could simply claim to be exchanging recipes or knitting patterns or something equally domestic. It was no secret that Tonks was hopeless at anything of a domestic nature; a little help from Molly would make perfect sense.

Two owls sat on the perch near the Owl Entrance, a chute rather like a laundry chute, which allowed the owls to fly down into the underground building to deliver and pick up mail.

“I’ve got a letter.” Tonks waved the small square paper at them. The larger, a brown barn owl swooped across the room and settled on her desk. She tied the parchment to its leg with a strip of leather and it flew off, up the chute.

Tonks didn’t much care who met her at the Leaky Cauldron, so long as someone from the Order was there to relieve her of her contraband documents.

Tonks turned back to her In-Box and extracted the new file.

It was a missing persons case. Vinatio Catulus McManus was reported missing by his girlfriend at 9:10 that morning, after being gone since about 7:00 am the previous day. Tonks read through the report that the girlfriend, Polly Dannon, had written and looked at the picture she had provided. It was a snapshot of them taken at someone’s wedding and they were waving at the camera, the bride happily beaming and the groom laughing. McManus was standing near the groom and grinning cheerily. He was average height and weight, his hair was dark brown and long, pulled into a ponytail, and his facial features were overlarge and close together. He was not unlike a Viking; he emanated a similar type of intimidation and ruggedness.

According to the girlfriend’s statement. McManus had left for work (at Eelyops Owl Emporium on Diagon Alley) and never returned. He had no affiliations with anyone suspicious, had, to her knowledge, never been imprisoned, nor was he intending to go on vacation. He had, for all intents and purposes, vanished.

It took her until nearly noon to search the Prior Offenders records for any wrongdoings by McManus. She found none. He appeared to be a law-abiding citizen, which ruled out the theory that he fled from law enforcement because of a crime.

Odd, She thought to her self, twirling her quill absent mindedly between her fingers. Why would someone with no legal disparages disappear completely with no warning?

Tonks quickly filled in an interoffice form requesting a search of McManus’s flat. She tapped it once with her wand and it flitted up above her head, circled once and zoomed off to join the other flying memos at the elevator.

Gathering her sack-o-illegal-documents, Tonks crossed the room and entered the elevator. She had decided to floo over to the Leaky Cauldron under the guise of having lunch and stopping in to talk with the folks at Eelyops about her new case.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Tonks fumbled out of the fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron at one minute until noon, caught her foot on an uneven stone and fell with a thud to the floor. Groaning out of annoyance more than pain, she climbed to her feet and dusted off her robes, which she just realized were still transfigured to look like men’s robes. A quick wave of her wand and her attire was back to it’s usual self.

Looking around the room, she found the place bustling with people. Tom, the bar man, waved enthusiastically at her and she met his wave, only with less enthusiasm.

“Quite the entrance.” A voice said from her left.

Remus Lupin was sitting at a table to the left of the fireplace. There were two butterbeers on the table in front of him, a detail that she was tremendously grateful for.

“Well, I always was the dramatic type.” She took up a seat next to him and gleefully drank a heavy gulp of the bubbly liquid. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” She smiled.

“Have you got them?” He asked.

“No, I was joking with the letter. It was all just a ploy to get you here so I could feed you alcohol and take advantage of you.” She said, sarcasm oozing from her words.

“Well in that case,” he said, not missing a beat and completely emotionless, “take me away you fiend.”

“It’s no fun if you’re willing.”

“Too bad. I guess we’ll just have to settle for the exchange of stolen documents.”

Tonks removed the bag from her shoulder and set it on the floor between them.

“Shall we have lunch then?” She asked.

“I am going to need to eat before you take advantage of me.”

They smiled warmly at each other and Tonks was reminded of how much she appreciated her new lot in life. Good works, good friends, and good times in spite of the bad ones. And as they ate their lunch, a sad reality presented itself to her; things were sure to get a whole lot worse. She had been so caught up in the movement to thwart evil and the excitement of what the Order was trying to accomplish, that she barely took the time to accept that this was only the beginning. The war had not really even started yet, and she and the people she had come to care about were set to be right in the middle of it. For a fraction of a second she wanted to close off, protect herself from what evils lay ahead, from what pain she knew she would have to endure, but that was not the way to accomplish anything. Hatred and evil will only be defeated by love, it was part of her promise to both the Order and the Wizarding World to do whatever she was able to preserve the good and destroy the bad.

She smiled warmly at Remus and he smiled back.


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Hi everybody! Here is the first half of Chapter 6. Yes, I know only half a chapter, but I have to have some kind of a buffer between me and you and I've caught up to myself, so...sorry. But if I get some chapters in the bank (aka my hard drive) I can post more regularly.

Big thank to my reviewers!!!!!! And to RndmManiak who has offered to Beta this for me!

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Chapter 6
Cold and Wet


Eelyops Owl Emporium was not Tonks’s favorite place. It was, to her way of thinking (and especially with her in the building), a disaster waiting to happen. Cages and crates lined the walls, stacked five or six high, screeching, flapping owls and other assorted animals thumped and knocked around in their cages causing them to rock haphazardly about. The employees shot around the room feeding and cleaning, always covered in feathers or dung or bits of sawdust-like bedding, cooing and shushing the animals with absolutely no results. It was bedlam. It was bedlam on a bad day.

Tonks stood hesitantly in the doorway, wary of venturing any further into the chaos for fear of knocking something over. The place was organized like a trail of dominos, if she slipped up and tipped one tiny cage the entire place would crash down around her.

A thin witch with short blond hair and cats-eye glasses called across the room to her, her voice raised to be heard over the din. “Come in then, Dear.”

“Er…I’d rather not. I’m a bit clumsy, you see. I wanted to ask you some questions about Vinatio McManus.”

The witch looked her up and down and crossed the room to where Tonks stood in the doorway.

“You’re from the Ministry then?”

Tonks nodded and the woman sighed, “I thought something might be wrong. He always shows up for work. Loves the animals. You haven’t,” she paused, looking anxious, “found him, have you?”

“He’s not dead, if that’s what you mean. Well, at least not that we know of.”

“What is it you want to know?”

Tonks pulled a small leather bound journal from her pocket that she used for field notes and a Muggle pen that her father had given her. She found Muggle pens excessively useful when questioning witnesses, as they were full of ink, unlike a quill, which required constant dipping.

“Your name.”

“Hera Coldwick.” The woman said, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“When was the last time you saw McManus?” Tonks asked.

“Day before yesterday. I was leaving for the evening and he said he would close up. I came in next morning and everything was just as it should have been. I didn’t suspect anything until about nine o’clock yesterday morning when he didn’t show up.”

“What did you do then?”

“I owled his girlfriend to ask if his was ill. She showed up here about an hour later, scared out of her wits. Poor thing. You should talk with her.”

“Yes, I plan to. Can you tell me if anything was missing or odd when you came into the shop yesterday morning?”

Hera looked up from the cage she had been purposefully concentrating on, shock in her eyes, “No! Absolutely not. Tio was a perfect employee, he would never steal.”

“I’m not accusing him.” Tonks tried to sound calming and reassuring, but the flicker of doubt in Hera’s eyes told her she was not succeeding. “I need to be sure that no one was trying to take advantage of him or blackmail him in any way. That is all.”

“No, nothing unusual.” But her light tone was forced and she did not seem so keen to talk with Tonks anymore.

Where is this skepticism and mistrust coming from?

“Okay, well thank you and please contact me at the Ministry if you need anything.” Tonks handed her a small piece of parchment with her name and occupation written on it and stepped back into the bustle of Diagon Alley. She had a strong suspicion that her contact information would find its way into the bottom of an owl cage before long.

What she needed was to talk with the girlfriend.

Polly Dannon had listed her address as twenty-seven, O’Riley Road, Lismore, Ireland. A long way from McManus’s flat in London as far as Tonks was concerned.

Taking a chance on the woman being at home, Tonks found her way by means of Apparition to the outskirts of Lismore. O’Riley Road was a long, narrow twisty stretch of compacted dirt and gravel, lined, every so often, by short stone fences and rickety old wooden ones. Muggle farms dotted the landscape and rolling hills of emerald green extended on for miles, divided only by patches of dense wooded forests. The wide river that cut the town was slowly drifting to the sea, much like the people of the area, meandering along, enjoying the journey instead of rushing to a destination. Standing above the river with rough and rugged lines and withered elegance, stood Lismore Castle. Tonks was not aware of the castle’s history, but judging by the carefully maintained grounds and exquisite repair work to its roofs and stone walls, she assumed the community took much pride in it.

Tonks walked rapidly in the direction of a small and tidy house, trying desperately to reach it before the heavens opened and showered her in icy drops. The wind whipped at her robes, chilling her to her bones and making her shiver. Trees and shrubs fought against the currents with little success, their leaves flinging themselves outward and being carried away on the air streams, their branches snapping and thrashing whip-like against each other.

One h*ll of a storm for July.

Having managed to get to the house without being blown away, a minor miracle, she opened the small picket gate and crossed the wildly growing yard full of vines and shrubs and small figurines of ridiculous looking gnomes and elves that looked nothing like any gnomes or elves Tonks had ever seen, all of which were turned over on their sides and rolling about the yard.

Must be a Muggle-born.

The first of Tonks’s knocks went unanswered and she pounded at the old wooden door again, hoping the woman who lived there would hurry the hell up and admit her into the house and out of the weather, but again, there was no response.

Rounding the side of the house, she pressed her nose to one of the windows, squinting. Inside she saw a clean kitchen with nobody in it.

D*mn!

Once more for good measure, Tonks beat at the front door with her fists for a full minute before there was suddenly a bright flash of blue light and she found herself airborne. She flew back away from the door and into the yard, the wind aiding her flight, and with a resounding thud, landed among a patch of hydrangeas.

“Ow! Son of a… stupid… flippin’…d*mn it!” She let go a stream of curse words that would make a sailor blush and pulled herself angrily to her feet.

“Who puts a security charm like that on their front door? For Merlin’s sake, lady, you could have killed the bloody neighbors.” She yelled at the empty house. She stared at it, it stared back, vacant and locked up tight.

Left with no other option, Tonks jogged back down the road, annoyed at having traveled so far for nothing and having been subjected to one heck of a security charm. Pulling her robes tight around her thin strong frame, she angled a weary eye at the brewing storm above her. Just as she reached the point at which she had first appeared only minutes ago, the clouds gave out and big, cold drops of rain pounded at the earth, soaking everything in sight, including her.

She turned and vanished silently, for the pounding of the rain drowned out the usual cracking sound of an apparaition. The squeezing sensation took hold of her lungs for a second and then she was standing in a long white room among many other Ministry employees, none of whom were sopping wet.

The Apparition Room was located just off the Atrium at the Ministry of Magic and was the only place in the entire building where a witch or wizard could Apparate in and out of the building.

“Fall in a river?” Said Kingsley’s voice.

“Caught in the rain.” She answered. “Where are you off to?”

“Oh just to go home and relax.” He winked; indicating that he was doing nothing of the sort, and with a CRACK was gone.


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


Tonks made her way to level two of the building the next morning with an enormous mug of coffee. She had stayed at the office until well after midnight searching the files for a lead on McManus and reading through Pyle’s old cases. She found nothing on either score and went home tired and frustrated.

Pyle was, as far as she could tell by the old paperwork, lazy and sloppy, but there was no evidence that he had done anything illegal. Of course if he usually sabotaged the busts, as he had done with the Grumble case, there would be no paper record of it. Any other Aurors on the same case would just think that their bust had busted.

Allegedly did, she reminded her self, allegedly did with the Grumble case. You have no solid proof of anything.

Merlin, how she hated that; not having solid proof against him, nothing aside from a nod in a pub from someone she was certain was a Death Eater to implicate him. Without rock solid proof, she couldn’t silence the sliver of her brain that said, “innocent until proven guilty and you know it.”

All was normal on level two when she stepped out of the elevator. She nodded to Arthur as they past in the hall and continued down the rows of empty cubicles to her own.

Sitting at her desk and opening her case-file on McManus, Tonks glared at his picture, wondering what exactly had happened to him, looking up only when she heard the shuffle of footsteps nearby.

Rufus Scrimgour’s shaggy orange head appeared above the padded piece of plastic that the cubicle makers had decided to call a wall. He stared for a long moment before attempting a smile. It didn’t come across all that friendly, but she pretended to be happy to see him anyway.

“Hi there Nymphadora.”

She cringed, but did not remind him to use her surname.

“Hello, Rufus. How are you?”

“Well, thank you. I just ran into Shacklebolt in the elevator. He’s quite fond of you, you know? Says you’ve got great potential. Anyway, says he’s been talking with Dumbledore about the Potter kid. Reckons the kid’s telling the truth.”

Oh, for Pete’s sake! Is he really going to try this on me?

Without giving anything away, Tonks rearranged her face to express confusion.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you mean by that.”

“Well, since you two are so close, I thought you might have an opinion about it.”

“Sorry, I don’t have an opinion on the Potter kid, nor do I have any idea what Kingsley’s views are.”

I am also aware that he would never divulge that information to you, so p*ss off.

“No opinion, eh? Everybody’s got an opinion.” Rufus smiled at her, but it was not genuine. He was fishing and Tonks didn’t like it.

“I form opinions based on what I know to be accurate, not what popular opinion claims is accurate.” She smiled at him, a full blast smile, confident and sure. “Can’t help it. I was trained that way.”

She knew she had him. Scrimgour had been the supervisor of the New Recruits Program when she was in training, so, essentially, he (or more accurately; his team) had trained her.

Nodding his head, he said, “A good way of thinking.”

“Yes, I think so.”

Without another word, he stalked off to the elevators and was gone.

Turning her attention back to her work, Tonks composed a letter to Polly Dannon requesting a meeting as soon as she was available and sent an owl off to deliver it. She had the overwhelming urge to hex the letter to shock Dannon when she opened it as retribution for the security charm Tonks had encountered, but decided it would be unprofessional and refrained from doing so.

The request for permission to search McManus’s flat had not come back yet, so Tonks fell back on an old favorite and spent the day with Pyle. She asked him his opinion of her missing person and disagreed with everything he said.

“Put together a search party.” He had recommended, which was ridiculous. McManus was a full-grown man who had been missing for about forty-eight hours, not a five-year old.

“Put out an arrest bulletin for the girlfriend so you can have her hauled in and questioned,” was another “great” suggestion.

“She’s not accused of doing anything wrong. Plus, she was the one who filed the missing person report.” Tonks had said, a look of annoyance coating her face.

By the end of the day, she was ready to go home and climb into bed and sleep off the effects of Pyle’s mind-numbing stupidity. But she didn’t get to go home; she was on Prophesy Watch that night.

Bugger!

She pulled the oversized satchel from under her desk that housed Mad-Eye’s Invisibility Cloak, a bottle of water and several candy bars. She sighed heavily.

At least I’ll be alone. I could actually use some time to straighten out my thoughts.

The hallway outside the door to the Department of Mysteries was cold, dark and gloomy, but overall, sitting there with her thoughts wasn’t so bad. She did have some serious thinking to do; about her case; about the Order; about Scrimgour; about Remus Lupin.

A silly crush, nothing more. She smiled at her own stupidity. She hadn’t had a crush on a man in a very long time and it made her laugh that she was still capable of managing one. It’s not as though she was fifteen anymore or wide-eyed and innocent, so this awkward feeling of goofiness was very foreign and it made her smile in spite of the kernel of embarrassment that had wedged its way into her mind.

Her last crush, oh that was so stupid. When she was sixteen she had fallen (quite literally, actually) for the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Felix Windham. He was handsome and smart and kind. She had never acted on the crush, of course, but she had nursed it for several months.

She chuckled quietly at the memory of being so caught up in staring at him that she didn’t see the table in front of her and smashed right into it, knocking all of the dark detectors he had put out for their lesson onto the floor and into millions of pieces.

What a prat.

Well, none of that was of any consequence now. She was an adult and a very busy one at that; she simply had no time, not to mention her immense lack of energy, to foster a silly little crush.

Shifting herself on the hard stone floor to keep her butt from going numb, Tonks shifted thought processes as well.

McManus was a problem. But there was little she could do until her search approval came back and she was able to talk with Dannon. She could visit his friends and family, though she remembered reading that the only family he had left was a brother, but Dannon would have information on his friends, which would help her piece together a picture of him. With any luck this next day would be more productive and she could get this case solved.

The hours passed rather faster than Tonks has expected and when she sneaked into the elevator just after seven in the morning and pulled the cloak off, she was exhausted, but her brain seemed a bit more organized, which gave her a tiny energy boost.

She went back to level two and checked her In-Box for anything new and noted that there was still no search approval for McManus’s flat. She scrawled a note to Kingsley telling him that she was checking a lead and left it on his desk, she hoped he would realize that she was really going to Grimmauld Place and not attempt to find her for several hours, at least.

She paused to look around his work area, releasing a weighty sigh. Pictures of Sirius were pinned and taped up all over; ones from his time in Azkaban, his misery nearly palpable; ones from before, including one of he and Lily and James Potter at their wedding, where his happiness was nearly palpable.

What a tragedy. It left her feeling cold sorrow in the pit of her stomach.

She peered at the smiling and waving image of James. She faintly remembered him, not any one instance or memory exactly, but more of a feeling of recognition. It was hard to explain, even to her self, but looking at his picture, she was certain she had met him, known him, and maybe even seen a smile like the one he wore in the picture.

Turning away from the pictorial timeline of her cousin’s life, Tonks made a beeline for the Apparition Room and was walking up the gloomy street toward his invisible house within minutes.


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Okay, here's the second half of Chapter 6!! Thank you to all of my reviewers and readers...I adore you.

And a special THANK YOU to RndmManiak for beta-ing this and giving your invaluable input. You rock!

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Chapter 6

Cold and Wet, Part Two
It took much longer for someone to answer her knock than usual, which set her on edge, but what nearly made her fall off that proverbial ledge was the person who answered the door.

Ginny Weasley waited for Tonks to enter and closed the door silently behind her. Tonks wove her wand over the locks, engaging them, before rounding on Ginny.

“What are you doing answering the door? You know only the adults are to be opening that door!” She said in an airy whisper so not to wake Mrs. Black, but maintaining a stern tone.

“Well, since they’re locked in the kitchen yelling at each other, it was either me anwering the door, or you standing on the doorstep for a couple of hours.

“Why are they yelling at each other?” Tonks’s eyes were wide and curious, even a little nervous.

“Don’t know.” Said Ron, from the landing above her. “We only caught a few obscenities before they put a silencing charm on the room.”

Without responding or commenting, she walked quickly, but quietly past the portrait of Walburga Black and to the kitchen door, the kids right behind her.

Sure enough, there was no sound coming from the room. But she knew they would be able to hear her even if she couldn’t hear them, so she rapped hard on the door.

“Its Tonks!”

A few seconds later the door opened a crack and Molly admitted her, promptly sealing the door again and replacing the silencing charm.

Tonks was not at all surprised to find that the source of the shouting was Sirius. He was pacing the room, his hands balled at his sides one second, but then flying around the next as he yelled through gritted teeth, fury in his gray eyes.

She was, however, very surprised to find that the object of his rage was Albus Dumbledore. The white-haired wizard sat at the table, a sorrowfully contemplative look on his face, peering at Sirius over steepled fingers.

“If he had just come here in the first place!” Sirius was saying. “I can’t believe that we sent him off to be food for Dementors. It’s not like we didn’t know he was being hunted by the most evil dark wizard of our time, right? Excellent plan, send him off to be defenseless while Voldemort thinks up exciting new ways to kill him.” The sarcasm and rage were thick in his voice.

“What Dementors?” Tonks asked quietly. She had already worked out that the “he” Sirius was yelling about was Harry Potter.

Since Molly was nearest and everyone else was busy staring at Sirius, she leaned close to the Auror and said, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes; “Harry was attacked last night by two Dementors.”

“Oh sh*t. Is he alright?”

“Yes, but he had to cast a Patronus, obviously, to get rid of them and now he’s facing charges of using magic outside of school and in front of a Muggle.”

“Like tying him to a tree and waiting for the wolves to come! Like bloodying his nose and dropping him in with a tank full of f****** sharks! Bloody d*mn reckless acting that way!” Bellowed Sirius.

That’s the pot calling the kettle black. She thought and realized how many little nuances that phrase held when applied to Sirius Black.

Tonks stared at Molly. “He’s what, fifteen? And he can produce a Patronus to drive off two Dementors?”

“Remus taught him in third year. And he’s driven off a whole lot more than two before.” There was something nearing pride in her statement.

Speaking of Remus, she scanned the room and found him standing against the far wall, his eyes intently boring into Sirius and looking very tired. She also noticed he had his hand on his wand. Waiting, she realized, for Sirius to cross the line and do something uncalled for. That anticipation either spoke of the intimate level of their friendship or of the affects of the years in Azkaban on Sirius’s judgment. Tonks wasn’t sure which, but she did note that all of the people in the room (Arthur, Kingsley and Mad-Eye were spaced about the room as well) simply allowed Sirius to vent, to scream, to bellow, which, to her, showed that they trusted him, something that he was probably not noticing at the moment.

Tonks also noticed that while Sirius was yelling at Dumbledore, he was not singling him out as the cause of the danger Harry had been in. He didn’t use the word “you,” but instead his accusations were ambiguous, even self-critical. That was something she was sure Dumbledore and everyone else in the room noticed as well.

But apparently, Dumbledore had his breaking point just like every other human and he finally spoke.

“Sirius! A moment’s consideration for an old man, if you please.”

Sirius looked at him, fire in his eyes, but quieted, nonetheless.

“I need you to understand that he was not defenseless.”

Sirius continued pacing the room, but didn’t resume his rant.

“There is a very powerful charm protecting him whilst he is in his Aunt’s house. I believe you are aware of the charm.”

“Yes,” he said without looking at Dumbledore.

“Then you will know that as long as he is in the house he is safe.”

“A lot of good that does when he steps out of the front door! He can’t stay holed up in his room for the next month, he’ll go mad,” he said in a voice sounding much more like a plea than an accusation. He lowered his voice and looked away. “Trust me,” he said.

“You are right that he cannot stay there. He will have to come here. Molly I trust you will be able to accommodate one more?”

“Of course.”

“Alastor, you and any others whom are willing will need to put together a guard for Harry’s removal from his Aunt’s home.”

Mad-Eye nodded.

Sirius stopped pacing and sat with a hard thud in one of the chairs. He lowered his head into his hands and rubbed at his face.

“It’s all such a miserable mess. He’s just a kid; he shouldn’t have to deal with this. I should have never let this happen to him.”

“You and I both know that you are far too smart to blame yourself, so I shall expect no more of that nonsense.” Dumbledore turned away from Sirius and focused his gaze on Mad-Eye. “Alastor, please alert me of your plans. Goodnight.”

Dumbledore stood and with long determined strides, left the room.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The following few days were as hectic as they come. Molly was obsessed with maintaining a habitable house, which was proving more difficult than originally thought. Once she and her hoard of bickering adolescents were able to decontaminate a room, it would be teeming with new dangers within days. Kreacher was blamed, of course, and Hermione flew to his defense right away, of course. But Tonks wasn’t so sure the ancient House Elf wasn’t sneaking ghouls and boggarts and enchanted picture frames into the cleared parts of the house with the idea of scaring off the intruders.

The rest of them were working on a way to get Harry safely to Grimmauld Place. Tonks was really rather pleased with her idea and how well it went over. She had heard from Hestia that Harry’s uncle had the habit of illegally watering his lawn in the dead of night, as there was a drought and his neighborhood was forbidden from wasting water on their yards.

“Should cast a hex on the patch of weeds, I should.” Hestia had said. “Show the old w*nker a lesson.”

So, knowing full well that the nasty man took pride in appearances she had offered her suggestion to the rest of the Order.

“I say we draw them out of the house with a fake invitation to an award banquet for suburban lawns.” Tonks had explained. “We tell them they’ve qualified and are invited attend the award ceremony.”

“How d’you know they’ll go?” Mad-Eye had asked, his magical fixed on Tonks.

“Oh, they’ll go,” Hestia had offered. “Obsessed with his lawn.”

“Okay, Tonks you handle setting that up. Make it soon. Now, how are we getting him here?”

“Floo?” Emmeline Vance had said.

But floo would not work because the Ministry would be watching the floo network and his aunt and uncle were Muggles so they would have to hook into an undesignated fire and that would call attention to them. This was especially bad since they would be going to Sirius’s hideout and the Order’s headquarters; the last place they wanted the Ministry poking their snouts.

Bill Weasley had made the suggestion of using brooms, which seemed to suit everyone fine and appeared to be the safest and most low key option, of which they had very few.

So it had all been decided and planned and plotted. Tonks had made up a very official looking letter, informing the Dursleys of their good fortune in the area of grass growing and mailed it through Muggle post, assisted by the ever-eager Hermione.

Mad-Eye had allowed any and all volunteers to go pick Harry up. Tonks thought that a nine-person escort was a little excessive, but Mad-Eye was under the impression that they would be met by a hoard of angry Cyclopes or bloodthirsty winged monkeys. The man’s paranoia was starting to ware on her nerves.

She, Sirius and Remus sat, just as they had on so many occasions before, in the kitchen of number twelve the evening before the little rescue mission and enjoyed several butterbeers, several more than probably necessary.

Bill Weasley practically skipped into the room just as they were debating whether or not Sirius could eat chocolate in his dog form without poisoning himself.

“Wotcher Bill,” she said with a wave.

Bill was smiling from ear to ear as he retrieved a bottle of butterbeer from the table, popped the top and drank half the bottle down.

“No, no, don’t tell me.” Sirius said. “You’re in a good mood?” Sirius smiled hopefully at Bill, his eyes full of mock eagerness.

Sirius had been in a very good mood as well, since it had been decided that Harry would remain at Grimmauld Place for the rest of the summer holiday and was quite more cheeky as of late.

“I am.” Bill sat at the table and continued to grin.

But before he could explain the reason behind his elated attitude, Molly pushed open the door and fixed her glare at Bill.

“William Gideon Weasley, you promised your sister that you would take her to Diagon Alley today and you are just now getting in. It is after nine o’clock, young man. I hope you don’t think that she is going anywhere now. How irresponsible! Of Fred or George, even of Ron, I would expect this, but from you? Explain yourself!”

Bill, who had frozen on the spot when she began to chide him, turned slowly to face his mother, and said, “I forgot. I was at work. I’ll apologize to Ginny and take her another day, I promise.”

With a huff, Molly turned and stormed out of the room. She was clearly not used to being let down by her oldest son.

“Okay, where were you really?” Tonks asked.

Bill grinned. “I was at work. Helping Fleur with her English.”

“Judging by the grin on your face, I’d say her English is great.” Tonks punched him playfully on the arm.

“The best.” He stared dreamily at the ceiling for a moment.

Sirius elbowed Remus in the side and said, “Reminds me of James, soft prat.”

“Except James’s excuse was always that he was helping Lily with transfiguration.” Remus said.

“Ah, yes,” Sirius smiled fondly, “the infamous transfiguration lessons. One can only guess at what they were transfiguring.”

They soon fell into varied and utterly pointless conversation. She wasn’t clear as to whether or not the conversation was deliberately not about the following day’s planned escapades, or if it had simply not veered in that direction. But she was finding the current direction troublesome to her reputation.

“Ron informs me that you told him you were on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.” Bill was saying to her.

“I was! I never said how long I was on the team.”

“How short, more like.” Bill was chuckling loudly now, his eyes twinkling.

“That was not my fault.”

“Wait,” Sirius said, “I know. She tripped and fell on the way to the pitch, knocking herself unconscious?”

“Oh, if only.” Bill smiled. “In her first and only game, which was against Hufflepuff, the poor dears, she accidentally hits their captain in the head with her bat, rendering him incapacitated for hours. You should have seen Pomfrey’s face. So, not two minutes later, she scores on her own team and knocks out Carlton, her own Keeper. Should have taken her out of the game then, but hindsight is always twenty-twenty.”

Tonks felt her face burn with embarrassment as he recounted the story to them. It was the only official game of Quidditch she ever played and the last she ever would.

“Finally, Charlie managed to catch the snitch, which thankfully ended the bloody game, but we still lost by fifty points…to Hufflepuff!”

Sirius turned to her, his expression one of shock and outrage.

“You were responsible for a loss to Hufflepuff? I disown you. I cannot be related to you.”

This time she punched Sirius on the arm and she wasn’t playing.

“Ow,” he rubbed at the spot where she had hit him, “don’t you have the decency to at least try to hit like a girl?”

“Why,” Remus asked, a shrewd look on his face, “if she was so terrible –”

“Oh, I think terrible is a bit harsh.” Tonks interrupted.

“Sounds like you play Quidditch with about as much grace as you walk.”

“Ever seen her dance?” Bill said.

“Alright, your little game of Kick The Tonks is now over.” Her dark eyes flickered with irritation.

“I’m still wondering why,” Remus continued, “was she on the team in the first place?”

“Sadly, amazingly, she was the best of the try-outs.”

“I thought we were done using me as a Bludger.”

“Hufflepuff?” Sirius stared at her, completely crestfallen.

“Oh, shut up.”




Feedback is fun! (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704)

A/N: Okay everybody! Here's the first part of Chapter 7. It is really long, but that is because it is mostly taken right out of OotP. But I couldn't change it if I want to stick to canon as much as possible, which I do. So the second half of Chapter 7 will be quite short, but there was no where else to split the chapter and I had to in order to have time to write chapter 8. :p Hope you like, thanks to everyone who reviewed, and I'll see you all over at the feedback thread (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704).



Chapter 7

The Boy Who Lived and the Girl Who Fell


Much to Tonks’s annoyance, the approval to search McManus’s flat came back to her at nearly five in the evening the next day, the most inconvenient time that it possibly could have come. She sighed in irritation, pocketed the papers and jetted off toward the elevators. She was due at number twelve for Mad-Eye’s pre-mission debriefing in minutes and did not want to know what would happen should she show up late.

To her dismay, the elevator doors opened to reveal Dawlish staring back at her. She stepped inside and did her best to look pleasant.

“I’m not entirely sure purple is your color.” Dawlish said, his eyes directed at the top of her head.

“Thank you for your opinion, I’ll add it to my I Don’t Care Pile.” She said thru gritted teeth.

“Where are you off to?” He asked, apparently deaf to her snide remark.

“Home, not that it is any of your business.” She knew she shouldn’t be talking to him this way. He was her superior and could very easily make her life very hard, but she just detested his arrogance so much that she had a hard time stopping herself.

“Home, when you’ve just been given a search approval?” Dawlish shot her a slippery smile.

“I know. It comes at a very inconvenient time. I’m going to my parents’ house for a dinner party for one of their colleagues and I cannot get out of it. You could have given me the okay days ago and it would all be done.”

“Yes, well, these things take time.” He managed to quickly hide a look of disappointment.

Uh oh, has he been talking with Scrimgeour?

The elevator doors opened and the familiar disembodied voice announced that they had reached the atrium. Tonks and Dawlish both left the elevators and walked in opposite directions.

She found the Apparition Room uncharacteristically quiet; only a few people were standing scattered about the room talking and the occasional POP rang out accompanied by the appearance or disappearance of a body.

Tonks turned on the spot and apparated. She found herself standing in an alley at the end of the block on which Sirius lived and was suddenly enveloped in sticky heat and sludge-like air. London was in the middle of a heat wave that caused plant life to wither and wilt and people to seek out cool bodies of water or shaded lawns. Even with the nearing dusk, the heat remained, daunting and heavy.

Still, she preferred the summer squelcher to the freezing rain she had encountered in Ireland only days before.

Molly opened the door to her knock and they walked together down the hall toward the kitchen, but before they had cleared the line of fire, Tonks tripped over a wrinkle in the rug under her feet and toppled against the wall. Immediately all the portraits awoke and the dark curtains covering Mrs. Black flapped open like leathery bat wings as she emitted her usual screeching insults.

“Oh, Tonks.” Molly said on an annoyed sigh.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Tonks pulled herself up and began to help stun the other paintings, which had joined in the ruckus. “I’m so sorry.”

Remus had come out of the kitchen and he and Molly set to work pulling the drapes back over the insane portrait of Sirius’s mother. After a few minutes they had managed to silence her, and the other paintings resumed their quiet slumber.

Molly leveled an exasperated look at the landing above them. “Fred, George, get back in that bedroom and don’t even try to listen at the door! Ginny you too.” And she stomped into the kitchen.

Tonks and Remus looked up to find three red tufts of hair peeking over the banister. They paused a moment before slinking off down the hall, sharing looks of accusation and bickering.

“If you weren’t so loud - ” Ginny was saying.

“Me? I wasn’t the one -” Fred said, before the bedroom door closed and cut off the rest of his sentence.

“What did you trip over this time?” Remus asked, amusement leaking from his words.

“The bloody rug.”

“I’m not convinced that you should be going on this rescue mission. What happens if you fall off your broom?”

“I’ll have you know I have never fallen off my broom.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’ll just be sure to keep all bat-like objects away from you. Wouldn’t want you to beat Hestia or Dedalus unconscious.”

“Leave the funny up to Sirius, you’re much too dull.” She shot back.

Remus’s lips twitched with the urge to smile, but instead he inclined his head slightly and said, “Touché.”

“You had that coming.”

“Probably.” He smiled now and waved his hand toward the kitchen door, “shall we?”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Mad-Eye ranted and raved for nearly an hour about emergency scenarios and flight patterns and safety precautions. To the unknowing ear, it would have sounded like they were planning to occupy China, not go pick up a fifteen year-old boy and bring him back.

As soon as Mad-Eye managed to silence his inner Army General, Sirius started talking about Harry. He was smiling broadly and telling anyone who would listen about how very great his Godson was.

“And in his second year he killed a basilisk….” He was saying to a very interested Emmeline Vance, in an excited and proud voice.

“Okay, it’s time.” Remus said with a look at his watch.

They all stood and retrieved their brooms from along the far wall. An anticipated hush fell over the room as they started to the door.

A hand caught hold of Tonks’s arm and when she turned to see to whom it belonged, she found Sirius standing very near her, his hand holding her elbow.

“Can you do something for me?” He asked.

“Sure I can,” she said, trying to hide the suspicious tinge that had leaked out with her words.

“I think Harry’s pretty p*ssed off about being kept in the dark about what’s going on.” He gave her a rueful smile and sighed. “Okay, I know he is. Can you try and pep him up, maybe distract him or something?”

She noticed the anxiety in his eyes and felt an upsurge of affection for her cousin and, oddly, at the same time, a wave of sorrow.

“Of course.” This time there was no suspicion, only sincerity.

“You’re going to love him,” A delighted smile spread across his face now, where it had just been full of concern. “He’s just like James, but smarter. Must be from Lily.” He chuckled and Tonks heard Remus do the same. “Maybe I’ll teach him to be an Animagus, bet he’d be a stag like his dad. I bet he’d catch on real quick, after everything he’s done; he’s bound to be a fast learner. Shouldn’t take him nearly as long as it took us. He says he wants to be an Auror, you know.”

“Just write a book, Padfoot.” Remus said sarcastically, clapping him on the back and prying Sirius’s fingers off of Tonks’s arm. “Now, we need our young Auror, here, so we can use our astounding magic powers to go save your Godson from the evil clutches of his maniacal overlord relatives.”

Sirius relinquished hold of her arm to Remus and he steered her out of the kitchen, walking ever so slightly too close and still touching her arm, just above the elbow.

“See, sometimes I’m funny.”

“Sometimes.” She agreed.

Within moments, the entire group consisting of: Remus, Tonks, Mad-Eye, Kingsley, Dedalus Diggle, Elphias Doge, Emmaline Vance, Sturgis Podmore and Hestia Jones, were taking flight on their broomsticks.

It was ridiculously funny to see Mad-Eye on a broom; his wooden leg, hanging awkwardly off the side, his frazzled gray hair flapping about, and his magical eye spinning wildly in search of what she could only guess were attack dragons or evil blood thirsty pigeons. She silently giggled at him as he let off a string of curses when his wooden leg started to knock uncontrollably against his broom making him fly crooked.

“Here.” Remus waved his wand and the prosthetic appendage stilled.

“Thanks.” Mad-Eye grumbled.

As they approached Surrey, the atmosphere among the group stiffened. When they left Grimmauld Place they had been slightly more relaxed, but as the reality of what could happen had Voldemort caught word of their operation set in, they began to tense up and she couldn’t help but get a bit nervous. She suppressed the butterflies in her stomach as best she could and led the group down to the backyard of number 4 Privet Drive.

Remus unlocked the back door quickly with a wave of his wand and they all filed into the house. They were in the dining area, just off the spotless kitchen. Tonks had never seen a kitchen that clean and she didn’t like it. Looking around mostly out of habit due to her training, she made note of anything suspicious or potentially dangerous, and since she was utterly unfamiliar with Muggle houses, the list was rather long. Noticing something that might loosen the tension among them, she crossed to the counter to examine a purple plate that matched her hair almost perfectly.

“Look,” she said picking up the plate, “we match.” And then she lost her grip and the plate fell to the floor shattering into a million pieces.

Tonks stared at it, mortified.

“Great!” Mad-Eye was staring at her, outraged. “Why didn’t you just bring a marching band as well and tell the entire street we’re here?”

“It was an accident.” She said defiantly. She waved her wand at the plate and said, “Reparo,” causing it to fix itself.

“Well, lets get Potter then.” Doge said.

Remus waved his wand again in the direction of the hall and Tonks heard another lock disengage.

“Was he locked in his room?” She whispered to Remus, who nodded very slightly.

“Brilliant. I say we nominate them for Parents of the Year.” Tonks said, the sarcasm unmistakably clear.

The troop squeezed themselves down the hallway toward the stairs, but Remus, who was in front, paused, looking up at the top stair just as they reached the base of the staircase.

Tonks (along with everyone else) followed his line of sight. There, at the top of the stairs was the dark shadow of a thin teenage boy, his wand pointed at them.

“Lower your wand, boy, before you take someone’s eye out.” She heard Mad-Eye say.

Tonks noticed that Harry did not lower his wand, but said, “Professor Moody?” rather apprehensively.

“I don’t know much about ‘Professor,’ never got round to much teaching did I? Get down here, we want to see you properly.”

Again, Tonks noticed that Harry did not do as he was told and “get down” there, and she found herself highly amused and impressed by his blatant defiance of Moody, especially with nine strangers standing in the hall. He did, however, lower his wand slightly.

“It’s all right, Harry. We’ve come to take you away.” Remus said.

Tonks could barely make out Harry’s face register the voice and his features brighten.

“P-Professor Lupin?” He asked. “Is that you?”

It occurred to Tonks that poor Harry was staring down at what probably looked like a hall full of talking shadows and could not see any of them very well, nor could they see him.

“Why are we all standing in the dark?” She asked, before lighting the tip of her wand.

Harry blinked a few times and focused on Remus. He looked very much like the James Potter from the picture in Kingsley’s office and she felt a bit of a recognition seeing him, like she’d seen him before.

“Oooh, he looks just like I thought he would,” Tonks said. “Wotcher Harry.”

The others all bounded into conversation about how much Harry looked like his parents and Tonks could see that it made him shift awkwardly. The poor kid probably felt like an animal in the zoo.

“Are you quite sure its him Lupin?” Mad-Eye asked. “It’d be a nice lookout if we bring back some Death Eater impersonating him. We ought to ask him something only the real Potter would know. Unless anyone brought any Veritaserum?”

Tonks rolled her eyes. Sometimes Mad-Eye was ridiculous.

“Harry, what form does your Patronus take?” Remus asked and she thought she heard the unmistakable sound of Mad-Eye induced weariness in his voice.

“A stag.”

“That’s him, Mad-Eye.”

Harry cautiously made his way down the steps and stored his wand in his back pocket, but Mad-Eye suddenly erupted.

“Don’t put your wand there, boy! What if it ignited? Better wizards than you have lost a buttock you know!”

Caught completely off guard by Mad-Eye’s outburst, Tonks turned and surveyed him questioningly. Yep, he was serious.

“Who d’you know who’s lost a buttock?” She asked, unable to believe that she had actually asked such an absurd question.

“Never you mind, you just keep your wand out of your back pocket! Elementary wand safety, nobody bothers with it anymore.”

Watching him grumble off to the kitchen, Tonks couldn’t help but chuckle inwardly at Mad-Eye’s interest in the state of Harry’s buttock.

“And I saw that.” He said as she rolled her eyes at his back.

Harry shook Remus’s hand, looking awkward, but very happy to see him.

“How are you?” Remus asked.

“Fine.” Harry answered. “I’m…your really lucky the Dursleys are out.”

“Lucky, ha!” Tonks said, more to break the awkwardness of everyone staring at Harry, than to brag. “It was me that lured them out of the way. Sent them a letter by Muggle post telling them they’d been short listed for the All-England Best-Kept Suburban Lawn Competition. They’re heading off to the prize-giving right now…. Or they think they are.”

“We are leaving, aren’t we? Soon?” Harry asked.

“Almost at once. We’re just waiting for the all-clear.” Remus answered.

“Where are we going,” she heard Harry ask, “the Burrow?”

“Not the Burrow, no. Too risky. We’ve set up headquarters somewhere undetectable. It’s taken a while….This is Alastor Moody, Harry.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Remus turned to Tonks and said, “And this is Nymphadora – “

“Don’t call me Nymphadora, Remus. It’s Tonks.” She snapped back at Remus, immediately shuddering at the mention of her name.

“ – Nymphadora Tonks, who prefers to be known by her surname only.” He finished and Tonks could have sworn she saw a grin flash across his face, though it was gone when she looked back.

“So would you if your fool of a mother had called you Nymphadora.” She answered, turning away to investigate the kitchen further.

She was only mildly aware of Remus making all of the other introductions having been distracted by the cleanliness of the kitchen. Everything was put in its precise spot and there was no dust or clutter whatsoever. It was the polar opposite of where she had been spending most of her time as of late.

“Very clean, aren’t they, these Muggles?” She said not waiting for Remus to finish whatever he was saying. “My dad’s Muggle-born and he’s a right old slob. I suppose it varies, just like with wizards?”

“Er…Yeah,” Harry said, apparently not concerned with the domestic habits of Muggles. “Look,” he turned back to Remus, “what’s going on, I haven’t heard anything from anyone, what’s Vol-“ But Moody and the gasps of several members of the group cut him off.

“Shut up!” Moody boomed.

“What?” Harry sounded confused and irritated. Sirius was right; the kid was ticked off and she was sure that not having any of his questions answered and the gaggle of strangers staring at him wasn’t helping.

“We’re not discussing anything here, it’s too risky. Damn it,” Moody put his hand to his eye, “it keeps sticking, ever since that scum wore it.”

Then with a very nasty squelching sound, he popped out his eye.

“Mad-Eye, you do know that’s disgusting, don’t you?” Tonks said, mostly because she honestly didn’t think he knew.

He ignored her and turned to Harry, “Get me a glass of water, would you, Harry?”

Harry went over to some odd cabinet-like thing, but with buttons and a glossy white door that opened downward, and took out a glass. He then went to the sink and filled the glass from the tap. Tonks noticed that everyone stared at Harry as though he had antlers or green goop coming out of his ears.

“Cheers,” said Mad-Eye when Harry gave him the water, and he dropped the eye into it.

“How are we getting…wherever, we’re going?” Harry wanted to know.

“Brooms,” Remus answered. “Only way. You’re too young to Apparrate, they’ll be watching the Floo Network, and it’s more than our life’s worth to set up an unauthorized Portkey.”

Tonks paid more attention than necessary to the weird Muggle house in an attempt to block out the disgusting eye that bobbed around in the glass. What was that odd black box on the counter with the buttons? And what did ‘Panasonic 1000 Watt’ mean?

She heard Remus say, “You’d better go and get packed, Harry, we want to be ready to go when the signal comes.”

“I’ll come and help you,” she said, needing to get away from Mad-Eye’s mad eye. Plus, it was a good opportunity to try and liven the kid up, like Sirius had asked.

She followed Harry up the stairs. There were pictures all over the walls of some very fat little boy throughout various stages of his life. She noticed that there was none of Harry.

“Funny place. It’s a bit too clean, d’you know what I mean? Bit unnatural.” Ahead of her, Harry opened a door and they walked into a rather messy bedroom and she was very relieved to see a room that looked lived in. “Oh, this is better.”

As Harry started to pick up his things, Tonks crossed the room, but caught her reflection in the mirror and was struck by an idea.

Dawlish, I never thought I’d be thankful to you for anything, but thanks.

“You know, I don’t think purple’s really my color,” she tugged at a lock of hair to see it better. “D’you think it makes me look a bit peaky?”

Harry looked at her as though he didn’t see why her hair color was relevant.

“Yeah it does.” She said and closed her eyes, thinking very hard on the exact color that she wanted her hair to be; bubble-gum pink swam behind her eyelids and for a split second she felt the familiar twinge of pain behind her eye sockets. When she opened her eyes and looked in the mirror, her hair was exactly the pink color she wanted it to be.

Just as she had suspected, and just as she had hoped, Harry stared at her in awe.

“How did you do that?”

“I’m a Metamorphmagus.” Tonks examined her new hair in the mirror. “It means I can change my appearance at will,” she added when Harry looked confused. “I was born one. I got top marks in Concealment and Disguise during Auror training without any study at all, it was great.”

Hook, line and sinker.

Harry gaped at her, “You’re an Auror?”

“Yeah,” she beamed, “Kingsley is as well; he’s a bit higher up than I am, though. I only qualified a year ago. Nearly failed on Stealth and Tracking, I’m dead clumsy, did you hear me break that plate when we arrived downstairs?”

Harry stopped packing his things and studied her, “can you learn how to be a Metamorphmagus?”

Tonks couldn’t help but laugh, she thought she knew where this was going and she couldn’t blame the kid for hoping.

“Bet you wouldn’t mind hiding that scar sometimes, eh?” She asked.

“No, I wouldn’t mind.” He said.

“Well, you’ll have to learn the hard way, I’m afraid. Metamorphmagi are really rare, they’re born, not made. Most wizards need to use a wand or potions to change their appearance….” She suddenly realized that they had been upstairs for a long time. “But we’ve got to get going, Harry, we’re supposed to be packing.”

Harry grabbed some books and said, “oh – yeah.” Apparently he forgot too, a side effect of distracting him from his troubles she supposed.

“Don’t be stupid,” Tonks said. “It’ll be much quicker if I – pack.” She waved her wand and all of his assorted stuff flew into his trunk rather haphazardly. Though she had been trying for some organization, she did not achieve any. “It’s not very neat. My mum’s got this knack of getting stuff to fit itself in neatly – she even gets the socks to fold themselves – but I’ve never mastered how she does it – it’s a kind of flick – ”

Just for the heck of it, she tried her mum’s trick for folding socks, but one of his socks only jiggled lamely and fell still again.

“Ah, well,” said Tonks as she slammed the trunk lid shut, “at least it’s all in.” Spotting the dirty owl cage, she added, “That could do with a bit of cleaning, too - Scourgify”

A few feathers at the bottom of the cage and some droppings vanished. Domestic magic really wasn’t her strong suit.

“Well, that’s a bit better. Right, got everything? Cauldron? Broom?” Tonks looked around the room for Harry’s broom and nearly dropped her wand when she saw it in Harry’s hand.

“Wow! A Firebolt? And I’m still riding a Comet Two Sixty. Ah well….wand still in your jeans? Both buttocks still on? Okay, let’s go. Locomotor Trunk.

And she grabbed the owl cage and steered the trunk down into the kitchen happy that she had at least distracted him for a few moments from the pressing questions and concerns that she could practically see swimming around in his head.

They returned to find the kitchen’s inhabitants (except for Remus, who was sealing a letter to the Dursleys) acting like a bunch of kids in Zonko’s. They were touching and prodding everything, Hestia was even giggling at an unremarkable small metal tool thing.

Thankfully, Mad-Eye’s eye was now safely stuffed back in his head and no longer bobbing slapdash around in the water.

“Excellent,” Remus said as they entered.

Tonks noticed him eyeball her new hair color and raise his eyebrows with a questioning look.

She raised her shoulders at his look, implying that she had no idea why he was looking at her so questioningly and mouthed a silent, innocent, “what?”

He turned back to the group, shaking his head, and said, “We’ve got about a minute, I think. We should probably get out into the garden so we’re ready. Harry, I’ve left a letter telling your aunt and uncle not to worry -”

“They won’t.” Harry said.

“That you’re safe -” Remus continued.

“That’ll just depress them.”

“And you’ll see them next summer.”

“Do I have to?”

Tonks grinned widely and tried not to chuckle.

Mad-Eye cast a fine Disillusionment Charm on Harry and they all marched out to the garden to wait for the all clear sign.

Tonks set to work strapping Harry’s trunk to her broom and found herself wishing she had a Firebolt, it would sure make carrying the enormous trunk easier.

Mad-Eye was grumbling on about what to do in case everyone except Harry died on the way to headquarters. Sometimes, he was just way too much; talk about being a pessimist.

“We’re going to be flying in close formation. Tonks’ll be right in front of you, keep close on her tail. Lupin’ll be covering you from below. I’m going to be behind you. The rest’ll be circling us. We don’t break ranks for anything. Got me? If one of us is killed - ”

“Is that likely?” Said Harry in a worried voice.

“- the others keep flying,” Mad-Eye continued, ignoring Harry’s concern, “don’t stop, don’t break ranks. If they take out all of us and you survive, Harry, the rear guard are standing by to take over; keep flying east and they’ll join you.”

I hope he doesn’t think that was a reassuring speech, because that was more disconcerting than being told the world was about to explode.

“Stop being so cheerful, Mad-Eye,” she said setting to work strapping down the owl cage, “He’ll think we’re not taking this seriously.”

“I’m just telling the boy the plan,” Mad-Eye growled, before starting in with the death business again, “our job’s to deliver him safely to headquarters and if we die in the attempt - ”

“No one’s going to die,” Kingsley stated.

“Mount your brooms, that’s the first signal!” Remus pointed to the sky.

The red sparks burned in the velvety night sky as they swung their legs over their brooms and readied themselves. The sparks were courtesy of Bill who was stationed with three other Order members a few miles off as a lookout for any signs of trouble. In a matter of seconds green sparks burned beyond the now faded red ones, thanks to Arthur, who, with four more helpers, was standing watch about two thirds of the way from Privet Drive to Girmmauld Place.

Remus said, “Second signal, let’s go.”

Tonks kicked off the ground. Her broom resisted slightly at the extra strain from the trunk, but once they were moving swiftly forward, she hardly noticed it.

They flew for quite a while in the frigid wind, her neck was freezing as were her hands and she silently cursed herself for not growing her hair to keep her neck warm. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Mad-Eye hadn’t kept making them backtrack and fly off course. His paranoia was starting to get old. When he suggested flying through clouds as cover, she lost most of her patience.

“We’re not going through clouds!” She yelled. “We’ll get soaked, Mad-Eye.”

They continued on for another hour or so, getting colder and less comfortable all the time. They avoided cities and roads as often as possible, making the trip much longer than necessary. Tonks liked flyimg, but it really was bloody freezing and all of her joints were starting to stiffen painfully. So, when Mad-Eye said they should double back, she lost what was left of her patience with him.

“ARE YOU MAD, MAD-EYE? We’re all frozen to our brooms! If we keep going off course we’re not going to get there until next week! We’re nearly there now!”

To her great relief, she heard Remus call to Harry, “Time to start the descent! Follow Tonks, Harry.”

Remus, I could kiss you for that, she thought as she tilted her broom downward, careful not to let the trunk and owl cage throw her off balance.

They landed in the small grassy square and she quickly started unbuckling the trunk. The faster they get inside the better, both for their safety and for the parts of their bodies not rotted off by frostbite.

Moody set to work using Dumbledore’s Put-Outer to extinguish all the street lamps and Remus had come over to take the back end of the trunk, while she took hold of the front. They heaved it down the sidewalk and waited as Mad-Eye gave Harry Dumbledore’s note revealing the location of the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

Within minutes, they were just inside the threshold reveling in the much welcomed and needed heat that the house held.

Mad-Eye was lighting the oil lamps as Molly came bustling down the hall. She did her usual motherly routine and fussed over Harry for a second before turning to the adults, “He’s just arrived, the meeting’s started.”



The feedback thread loves you (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704)

A/N: Okaley dokaley everybody! Here's the second, and final, part of chapter 7, The Boy Who Lived and the Girl Who Fell. It is quite a bit shorter than the first half of the chapter, sorry. This posting once a week business is stressfull!! Eeek! But I am trying to keep up with myself and so far so good. I will be sure to let you know if any posts will be delayed...speaking of which...nextweekswillbeabitlatebutitcan'tbehelpeds oI'mreallysorrydon'tshootme. There, that wasn't so bad! :whistle:

Anyway, on to the story and please leave me some thoughts, criticizms and guesses! (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704&page=5)


Chapter 7 Part 2



Tonks and Remus set the trunk down and, with a last glance at Harry, headed off toward the kitchen. Harry was in better hands then theirs now, Tonks thought as she heard Molly whispering to Harry.

They entered the kitchen to find almost the entire Order present, including Severus Snape, who was standing in the middle of the room talking. He turned is greasy head toward the door as they entered and stopped speaking, a look of loathing on his face.

Tonks sneaked across the floor and sat next to Sirius at the table. Remus took up a post behind them, leaning back against the wall, his arms crossed against his chest, patiently waiting.

The other members of their group spread out and sat or stood where there was room. Extra chairs had been spread about and there were goblets and wine bottles on the table, most of which sat in front of a particularly grubby looking Mundungus.

“Molly will be right back. We’ll wait.” Arthur said.

He and Bill were seated at the table and both nodded to Mad-Eye in silent approval of a job well done, Mad-Eye nodded back.

Sirius leaned over toward Tonks and said, “So, how is he?”

“Right miffed, if you ask me. He’s going to have some choice words for you lot when he gets his chance, but once that’s over with I think he’ll be fine.”

Sirius nodded, “I thought he might.”

“But you’re right,” Tonks said brightly, “I do like him very much.”

Sirius beamed at her, but before he could say anything else, the door opened and Molly entered.

“Sorry, Severus. Just getting Harry all settled. Go on.”

“The Dark Lord has been planning some way to get into the Department of Mysteries, I do not yet know what his plan is, but he makes progress continuously. He has also indicated to me that he intends to send someone to the Giants. Hopefully Hagrid reaches the Giants first. Also, with the recent trouble with Potter, it would appear that at least a few Dementors are now taking orders from the Dark Lord, however, I have heard no mention of his intention to do this. I wonder if the Dementors weren’t sent by someone else.”

There was much clatter as people erupted in heated conversations. Heads were bent together and brows were furrowed in thoughtful contemplation, the meaning of Snape’s words rolling around in their minds.

Bill was the first to address the last comment of Snape’s.

“Who then? If not You-Know-Who, who sent them?”

Snape turned to Bill and his upper lip curled slightly in irritation, “Wouldn’t I have said who, if I knew?”

“Now, that’s the million Galleon question, isn’t it?” Said Mad-Eye, his blue eye set on Snape.

Snape ignored Mad-Eye, but stated, “I have no idea,” as answer to Bill’s question.

They were soon deep in discussion revolving around emergency scenarios, evacuation plans and other situations in which quick or forceful action on the part of the Order would be necessary. They voted on emergency removal plans should their headquarters be discovered and on plans to raise the alarm should Voldemort succeed in getting into the Hall of Prophecies. They reviewed the plans of the Ministry building (which were greeted by many complimentary remarks and a few low whistles, making Tonks blush feverishly) for any secret ways inside or oddities in the structure that would allow Voldemort to sneak in undetected, but the plan was too complicated, it would take weeks to do a thorough search of it.

They suddenly were greeted by the sound of yelling from somewhere above their heads. Loud, angry, spiteful yelling wafted through the walls and reverberated into the kitchen. Caught quite off guard, many of the group jumped or shrieked in surprise, looking toward the ceiling and then to each other, shooting around questioning looks.

“Those’d be the choice words.” Tonks said to Sirius and she saw him frown.

They listened to Harry’s tirade for a few minutes, though unable to make out much of the words, it was painfully clear that he was livid.

Tonks glanced over her shoulder at Remus. His head was lowered and he was looking at the floor thoughtfully.

Then, Harry’s voice stopped. They all looked around at each other, but Bill had already pulled out the Prophecy Watch schedule. “A good place to stop for today. Let’s get this squared away, eh?”

Bill was reading off names and dates and times while Molly jotted them down on pieces of parchment and handed them out, placing on them her usual precautionary charm to keep prying eyes from leaning too much.

At last, the meeting was adjourned and most of the group moved out into the hall, still chattering about the business with the Dementors and the Department of Mysteries.

As soon as the last of the Order, who would not be staying at number 12 for dinner, had left, Tonks, Remus and Molly set to work sealing the door from the inside. When the door was properly locked, Tonks turned around and tripped over the Troll leg umbrella stand and fell with a loud clattering bang on her back.

“Tonks!” Molly hollered.

“I’m sorry! It’s that stupid umbrella stand, that’s the second time I’ve tripped over it.”

But then, as was always the case, the portrait of Mrs. Black threw open her curtains and began to screech her outrage.

Tonks pulled herself up and saw that Remus and Molly were trying to get the curtains closed again, but Mrs. Black was having none of it. Within seconds, all the other paintings in the upstairs hall had started screaming as well and Molly had abandoned Mrs. Black to stun the others.

“I’m sorry, I am so sorry.” Tonks said as she heaved the troll’s leg back to its spot by the door.

She noticed that the kids had come out to investigate as well and found that Harry was quite shocked by the portrait. He stood staring at it, his eyes wide and unblinking, and his mouth in a disgusted twist. But that was little compared to his surprise when Sirius came running down the hall, a look of long suffering hatred etched into his face, to help Remus shut the old woman up.

It was completely adorable the way that Sirius attempted a casual air when greeting Harry. He swept his long black hair out of his face, in an attempted nonchalant manner and made a flippant comment about his mother’s portrait.

“I see you’ve met my mother,” said Sirius.

Tonks saw right through the act, having been subjected to Sirius’s bragging about Harry for days, and it made her smile that Sirius was trying to be cool in spite of the excitement that she knew he was feeling. It really was very cute.

Remus appeared to catch on as well, for he smiled fondly and caught her eye. Still smiling he shook his head and chuckled deeply.

But it was a moment for Sirius and Harry and Tonks felt a bit like an intruder, so she turned away and headed for the cavernous basement kitchen followed shortly by the others.

She emerged into the kitchen to find Bill and Arthur seated at the table studying the plans of the Ministry of Magic building. Molly made a little coughing noise to gain their attention. A startled Bill looked up and, seeing the band of teenagers, hurriedly grabbed up all the parchments, while Arthur greeted Harry.

“Harry! Good to see you.”

Tonks went to help Bill, who said, “Journey all right, Harry? Mad-Eye didn’t make you come via Greenland, then?”

“He tried,” Tonks said, but as she said it she knocked over a candle, spilling wax all over the plans they were picking up. “Oh, sorry!”

Molly was quick to clear up the mess and chastise her son and husband for not cleaning up sensitive materials in a more efficient manner.

Everyone took seats around the table as Sirius was talking to Harry and Mundungus woke up from what appeared to be a minor coma. Sirius was eyeing Harry cautiously while Dung offered up a lame apology for almost getting Harry kissed by a Dementor. Tonks didn’t really have any reason not to like Dung, but she didn’t trust him any farther than she could throw him and this business with leaving Harry unprotected was a big load of rubbish as far as she was concerned. It did not endear him to her in the least.

“And if you want to eat before midnight, I’ll need a hand.” Molly said.

Feeling so bad about waking up Mrs. Black and knocking over the candle, Tonks jumped up and said, “What can I do, Molly?”

“No, it’s all right, Tonks, you have a rest too, you’ve done enough today –”

“No, no, I want to help!” She said as she moved toward Molly, knocking over a chair on her way.

Tonks righted the chair and helped Ginny collect cutlery and bowls and glasses. She only half listened to the conversation at the table. Mostly Harry and Sirius were comparing their lousy summers and Dung was chattering on about nothing important.

Before long, they were ready to eat (with just the one mishap, but this time it was Fred and George who knocked over the butterbeer, nearly spilled the stew and almost stabbed Sirius with a large knife, so things were looking up for Tonks). She sat by Ginny and Hermione, as was the usual arrangement; the twins, Ron and Dung huddled together; and Remus, Arthur and Bill together discussing the chosen political topic of the day. Sirius usually sat with them, discussing the issues, but today he was talking with Harry.

They ate and Tonks entertained the girls as well as Harry by changing her nose into various different shapes and sizes. It was always nice to spend some time doing silly things instead of chasing evil wizards or planning for the apocalypse. She was going to miss the group when they were back at school and she was robbed of her temporary escape from the world that lies outside the front door.

Tonks transformed her nose into a large bulbous knob and looked up to see Ginny and Hermione laughing loudly and Harry, his face much less angry and depressed than a mere few hours before.

Everything became much more intense quickly though, when the conversation turned abruptly to Voldemort, then to Harry, and Sirius and Molly broke out in a very heated argument about Harry’s well being and his right to ask questions. Tonks stayed out of it, as it was none of her business, but she had to admit, if only to herself, that she was with Sirius on this one. Molly was trying to protect Harry and that was commendable, but he was not a child and he deserved to have his questions answered – to a point.

Finally after much argument and a rather low blow, but possibly true, comment by Molly in regards to Sirius’s ability to distinguish Harry from James, everyone except Ginny (who had yelled and fought admirably on her way to bed) was left in the kitchen awaiting Harry’s questions.

All of Harry’s questions revolved around what Voldemort was up to, where he was, the state of the Ministry and Dumbledore’s newly tarnished reputation. He had so little information about what was happening in the wizarding world, that he required a fair bit of explanation. It was only when the conversation turned toward the Ministry and what Voldemort might want there (Remus and Sirius simply called it a “weapon”) that the question and answer session had been ended.

“That’s enough!” Molly’s stern voice came from near the door. “I want you in bed, now. All of you.”

“You can’t boss us -” Fred started, but was instantly silenced.

“Watch me.” Molly roared, her anger level nearing the point of no return. “You’ve given Harry plenty of information. Any more and you might as well induct him into the Order straightaway.”

“Why not?” Harry asked. “I’ll join, I want to join, I want to fight -”

“No.” Remus stated and Tonks looked up from the spot on the floor that she had been focusing on to avoid Molly’s accusing eyes.

“The Order is comprised of only overage wizards.” He looked at Fred and George, “Wizards who have left school. There are dangers involved of which you can have no idea, any of you…I think Molly’s right, Sirius.” He looked at his friend and Tonks saw something flash in Remus’s eyes, though she couldn’t place it.

“We’ve said enough.”

Sirius did not disagree and Molly took the opportunity to march the troop of teenagers off to bed.

Once they had all left the room, it fell eerily silent, no one knowing exactly what to say now that they had just explained the dismal state of their world to the boy who had been partially responsible for that state.

After several minutes, Tonks finally said, “Well, I’ll say one thing for you lot, you’re never boring.”




Visit the Land of Happiness and Rainbows (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704&page=5)

A/N: I have returned from my trip to Vegas in one piece, how I have no idea, but I've managed it, so here's the next installment. Work is insane right now and it is siriusly cutting into my writing time and energy, so I may have to space out my posts and make them a bit shorter than you may be used to. Sorry. But for quality assurance purposes, it must be done.
Also, I used one of JKR's chapter titles here because I couldn't think of another one, so the title of chapter 8 is subject to change.

Anyway, enjoy and tell me about it (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704&page=6#)

Chapter 8, Part One

Dumbledore's Army



Tonks had left number twelve rather later than she had expected due to another argument that had erupted between Molly and Remus. Actually it was something more like an already angry woman lashing out at the one person she knew would not yell back, but simply allow her to rant, and only occasionally offer a calm rebuttal.

“You are the most level headed person in this room,” she had said, ignoring the sharp looks from her husband and eldest son, “and you side with them on this?”

“We are all on the same side.” Remus had offered softly.

“Of course we are, but telling him about Voldemort’s plans and explaining what the Order is up to? He’s fifteen, not twenty or even seventeen. Don’t you think he has enough on his mind without having to worry about the state of the government as well?”

“Molly, he’ll worry whether we tell him or not.” Arthur had said, his words falling on deaf ears, as she remained turned toward Remus, acting as if Arthur had not said a word.

“He’s going to be consumed by this. You know how he is, Remus. He gets one tiny shred of something and he’ll cling to it until it leads him right into trouble. Has everyone forgotten the business with Quirrell or the Forbidden Forest, the Chamber of Secrets, the Shrieking Shack, you, Sirius?” She pointed sharply at Sirius. “He still thought you were a murderer and he ended up trapped in a small building with you.”

“Technically I found him and lured him there, so….” He had trailed off, pulling a face before adding with a smile, “But he did, very valiantly, try to kill me.”

“This is not funny!” Molly was looking tired and sad at that point and Tonks felt a small prick of regret in her stomach for having been part of the reason for her sadness.

“Look, we didn’t tell him much more than they heard through the Extendable Ears. Better the information be accurate and whole than jumbled.” Remus had said gently.

She did not argue her point any further. A look of angry resignation shaded her usually pleasant face and she hurried out of the room, leveling a sharp, “’night, Arthur,” at her husband.

Tonks had left the kitchen shortly thereafter, but had not managed much sleep. So by the time she crawled, exhausted, out of bed the next morning she was not feeling all that cheery or energetic. The events of the day before made Tonks’s task of searching McManus’s flat all the more tedious. She had arrived at the tall gray building that sat among many other similar dreary dwellings in the middle of a long narrow alley-like street in a less than desirable section of London, at eight the following morning. The air, which had heated quickly in the newly risen sun, was already ripe with the smell of sweating rubbish bags, which were dumped rather unceremoniously about the front steps of the buildings.

McManus inhabited apartment 4A of number twenty-one, Grace Street.

Could they have picked a less appropriate name?

She stared at the building numbered twenty-one and counted the floors. There were three, which meant that his floor was charmed to be invisible and that meant that the other flats were inhabited by Muggles.

Tonks ascended the steps to the lobby and looked around cautiously, her wand tucked safely inside the deep pocket of her wool pea coat, but her fingers curled around it as a precaution. It was a sparse and empty space with an elevator that looked as though it had been let to fall freely from the fourth floor and smash into the ground many times over. A series of thin metal postboxes were fixed to the wall to her left, and a door opened up to a staircase to her immediate right.

Not trusting the elevator to take her to level four, or anywhere for that matter, Tonks entered the cold white stairwell and started up it. Half way to the top she nearly lost her balance and toppled down two flights of hard metal steps, but managed to grab the railing just in time to stop her fall.

When she reached the third floor she met an abrupt end to the stairs and was faced with a plain, unremarkable white wall. Glancing around to be sure that no one was present, Tonks extended her arm and thrust it thru the wall. Just as she had suspected, it was a false wall, not unlike the barrier at King’s Cross Station that separated the Muggle platform from Hogwarts’s platform 9 ¾.

Actually removing her wand from her pocket now, she stepped thru the wall and into another stairwell, very unlike the one she had just left. The new stairwell was painted an olive green and there were ornate oil lamps attached to the walls and hanging from the ceiling, the light flickered and danced on the walls and floor, which gave the space a softer feel.

When she had reached the door marked 4A, Tonks removed a small silver devise, not unlike a very large coin, called a Security Sensor Disk, from her pocket and held it flat against the door. It was only a matter of seconds before the object began to hum and vibrate slightly; detecting which magical protections and reinforcements had been placed there.

A moment was all that was required for shapely black letters to form on the outside of the disk.


Standard Wizard’s Dwelling Security Charm



“Ah, well, we can handle that.” Tonks raised her wand, pointed it at the door and said, “Diduco!”

The door flashed blue for a second and popped open with a quiet clink sound.

The interior of McManus’s flat did not give the impression that it had been searched or ransacked or that anyone had been forcibly removed from it, which made Tonks grimace, as now there was even less chance of finding any revealing clues.

The flat was an open space, the living area and kitchen in one room, separated only by a high counter with two stools. There was a door to the right that she assumed led into a bedroom and another to the left that stood open to reveal a small bathroom.

The décor was that of a man who lived alone; a sturdy and unattractive couch sat, squat and stained in the center of the room, a small wooden table covered in newspapers and empty butterbeer bottles stood in front of it, an ancient old cabinet was pushed against the wall near the fireplace, and several oil lamps and candles were placed on various flat surfaces about the room.

Tonks found that the kitchen was no different in its level of cleanliness or style. There were mismatched crusty dishes piled in the sink and a large dirty cauldron that was growing something purple and hairy and growled menacingly as she walked past was left on the countertop. Yet more butterbeer bottles stood upon the small round dining table and a small mound of rags lay forgotten on the floor.

Bloody filthy. Girlfriend not around much?

Searches of the bedroom and bathroom revealed similar findings, with the added bonus of several pairs of underwear that Tonks was not at all pleased to come face to face with, but nothing seemed unusual or odd. There was no sign of a struggle or blood splattered on the wall or even missing items to suggest that he had packed up and moved. The flat looked very much like he had just gone out to the shops and would be back any minute.

She spent some time looking through a photo album that she had found in the cabinet by the fire, but aside from snagging a picture of McManus that she thought was better than the one provided by Polly Dannon, the album did not divulge to her any hint about where he could have gone, nor did the books lining his shelves or the clothes hanging in his closet or the rolls of blank parchment in the bedroom. It was most irritating.

It was after noon by the time she left McManus’s flat. Out of curiosity, but with little hope of getting any results, Tonks crossed Grace Street and entered the grimy pub directly across from the building she had just left.

The Pig’s Eye, she found out, was dank, dusty and dreary, and its patrons perfectly reflected it. The qualities necessary to be a customer of the Pig’s Eye were not achieved by adequate dress or hair of a certain style, but by years of self-neglect, by over consumption of alcohol and by being down right miserable. Needless to say, Tonks’s curly blond tresses and bright orange Weird Sisters t-shirt were not endearing her to the inhabitants. Nevertheless, she crossed the room to the battered old bar and waited for the barman to acknowledge her. He appraised her for a second before speaking.

“Sumpin’ you be needin’?”

“Yes,” She reached into her pocket and shifted the picture that she had found in McManus’s album so that her wand was touching it. She said a silent stunning spell to still the image of McManus and removed the snapshot from her pocket. “Have you seen this man?”

The gruff old man eyed the picture for a moment, but shook his head, “Nah, don’ know ‘im.”

“Okay, thank you.” Tonks smiled sweetly at him and turned. On her way to the door she asked a few of the other occupants the same question and each time got the same answer.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Level two of the Ministry building was fairly quiet when she arrived later that afternoon. Pyle was seated in his cubicle accompanied by Spectra Sherwood; drinking mugs of what she thought must have been coffee, and chatting leisurely. Kingsley was seated across the floor in his own small square of space, frowning over a parchment.

“Turn that frown upside-down.” Tonks said in falsely cheery tones as she looked over his desk at the parchment.

“If you stand on your head, it will be. Care to try it?”

Without bothering to ask for permission, she walked around him to read the parchment over his shoulder. It was a list of places and dates scribbled out down about a half a foot and the most recent entry was Bermuda June thru July 1995.

“Oh.” She said, comprehension dawning. It was the list of where Kingsley claimed Sirius had been sighted. It dawned on her what a big task it must have been hiding Sirius from the authorities. He had to plant fake tips for locations, dispatch Aurors to search for him, alert the magical law enforcement in those locations of the outlaw’s presence, gain permission to search for him in their country, compile regular reports citing why Sirius continues to go un-captured and probably a million other things that she could not think of, not to mention heading up an operation that was a huge failure; an intentional failure.

“It’s a good thing you have a good reputation, mate, because this is a career killer.”

He lowered his voice and grinned ruefully, “career suicide, more like.” But he must have realized that he sounded slightly bitter because he smiled broader and said, “But it’s worth it.”

“D*mn right!” Tonks clapped him hard on the back and said very quietly and very threateningly, “My cousin gets caught and I come after you.”

“Yeah, you and what army?”

But the use of the word army had brought something into focus all of a sudden. Vera Blottings in the Records Hall had said “Dumbledore…and his army.” She had forgotten about it, what with Harry being attacked and the rescue mission. It was not until just then that she remembered to mention it.

Sitting down on a short filing cabinet in Kingsley’s cubicle and lowering her voice to a whisper, Tonks said, “You know, the Records Attendant said something odd when I was getting the plans.”

Kingsley raised an eyebrow at her, so she went on.

“She asked if the reason Fudge wanted to see the building plans was as a security precaution against Dumbldore and his army.”

Kingsley looked hard into her face, and then shifted his gaze to the floor. He appeared to contemplate the toes of her shoes for several seconds before saying, without looking up, “We need to mention this to Dumbledore, and look into it, if he needs us to.”

“You think she meant the Order? Do you think Fudge knows about it?” Tonks asked cautiously.

“No. It’s got to be something else.” Kingsley did look up now, but he was distracted by this new development and he seemed to be gazing through her, apparently lost in his thoughts.

“Okay. Next meeting then?”

“No. We should go to him sooner. I’ll send an owl from home asking when is a good time for him.”

Tonks nodded and stood to leave. As she exited the cubicle she looked up to see Sherwood, on the other side of the large room, eyeing her suspiciously. She was well out of earshot, but the glare she was aiming at Tonks did not bode well for Tonks’s situation with Pyle.

Two words to Pyle from Sherwood and he would probably take the defensive and then where would Tonks be? Without a way to keep tabs on Pyle, that’s where.

Keeping one eye on Sherwood, Tonks bypassed her own cubicle and headed straight for the elevator. She had had a long couple of days and was in dire need of a few hours of sleep. Her entire body felt tired and her eyes were straying out of focus with annoying regularity. If she kept going at this rate she was sure to crash and burn before she found McManus or investigated the business with Dumbeldore’s so-called army.

She managed to reach the atrium without incident and was flooing home in minutes. She felt a surge of relief sweep through her as soon as she stepped out of the flickering green flames and into her own living room. Without bothering to take her shoes off or find a blanket, she fell onto the couch and was asleep before she registered the owl sitting on her dining table, patiently awaiting her arrival.

When Tonks opened her eyes several hours later, she had the distinct impression that she was being watched. The peculiar sensation of eyes staring at her back made her hair stand on end and her skin prickle. Slowly she put her hand in her pocket and fisted her wand. In one liquid movement she sat up and spun round, pulling her wand from her pocket as she moved. She caught sight of the owl’s huge yellow eyes and stopped her efforts to rise from the couch, her spell-ready wand fell to her side, and she misjudged her momentum and was carried right off the couch onto the floor.

The owl hooted what could have passed for a laugh.

With a few quiet curse words, Tonks stood and crossed to the owl, which held out its leg and waited for her to remove the small roll of parchment tied there. As soon as Tonks had taken the letter, the owl took flight and swooped out the half open kitchen window.

It was from Polly Dannon.


Dear Ms. Tonks,
I apologize for being so difficult to reach as of late. I have been very busy at work and have been spending much time with family since Tio has been away. I am more than willing to talk with you. Anything to help find Tio. I have been staying with my cousin in Hogsmeade if that is convenient for you or I can meet you in London, as I work there. Please owl back a date and time that we can meet.

Sincerely,

Polly Dannon



A quick glance at her watch told Tonks that she would not be questioning anyone that night; it was nearly nine and there was no way an owl was going to reach Dannon in Hogsmeade in time for a late night meeting, not one decent people usually have anyway, and she found herself wondering whether Dannon fell into the category of decent persons.

Tonks sighed and set the letter on the table before climbing the stairs to her cozy bed where she fell instantly asleep and dreamed of armies of invisible people, who howled like dogs and rode giant black broomsticks that veered in all directions, but never bucked their riders off.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The Feedback Thread Loves You (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704)

A/N: And here is the second part of Chapter 8, you lucky dogs :D. Looks like you're getting CH 8 in three installments. Hope you like, this is one of my favorites. :D

You Know The Drill (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704)


Chapter 8, Part 2


The morning came in a slow and serene way, the light of the newly reborn sun crawled its way gently across her windowsill, leaving streaks of yellow and orange in its wake. The golden beams illuminated the windowpanes and shot inward, across Tonks’s bedroom, and refracted off of the glass in the picture frames and the long mirror hung upon her wall then spread about the room, which gave to it a sense of joy, without really even meaning to.

With this light came heat, warm streaks of sunshine landed on her face and eyes like soft kisses, and she smiled before her eyes had even fluttered open, something about waking up in her own bed with the rays of a new day caressing her skin made her very happy.

Then again, it could have been the simple fact that she was rising from her first full night of sleep in nearly a week.

It only took a matter of minutes for Tonks to shower and dress and make her way to the kitchen for a cup of morning tea. She was a rather low maintenance type of girl; being a metamorphmagus and having the ability to look like whomever one wished made her appreciate her natural appearance all the more. Her self-esteem was rather more stable than most, for it didn’t matter what people saw when they looked at her; she could just change their perception of her in an instant, and what truly mattered was buried deep within the exterior. This was one of the reasons she maintained such odd hair colors; disinterest in what people thought of her and a healthy sense of self. Contradictorily, the other reason for her ever-changing locks was a need to be an individual and challenge what people saw upon meeting her.

Tonks rolled her eyes at herself. I am so weird, she thought.

Before she had even reached the bottom stair, the doorbell rang, stopping her immediately. Her watch read seven-thirty; far too early for visitors.

Cautiously, she ventured toward the door, her wand ready, but her weary steps were stalled by a voice on the opposite side of the door.

“It’s Kingsley. You can quit with the constant vigilance routine now.” The voice said bearing a distinct ring of amusement.

She smiled in spite of her self and wrenched the door open; wand pointed right at head level and grinned haughtily. Kingsley opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again very quickly, giving her a very pointed look.

“You never can be too sure,” Said Tonks. “How do I know you’re the real Shacklebolt? Better put you to the test. Accio Veritaserum.”

Tonks held out her hand as she said the incantation and a small vial leapt from its place on the bookshelf and soared toward her. She made to close her hand around it, but missed and knocked the vial off course, but before it could smash against the doorframe or fly out the open door, Kingsley’s hand shot out and grasped it firmly in his palm.

Without missing a second’s recovery time, Tonks said in a matter of fact voice reminiscent of Minerva McGonagall, “You have passed the test satisfactorily. Come in.”

Kingsley shook his head, handed her the potion in its small bottle and walked to the couch, where he dropped heavily onto his bum.

“I’ve had Prophecy Watch. I’m exhausted.”

“You’re welcome to have a nap here, if you like.” She passed him, as he closed his eyes and sank deeper into the cushions, and set to work making a pot of tea.

“I may do that,” he sighed. There was a second before he spoke again, “I’ve had a word with Dumbledore and he would like us to meet him in his office at Hogwarts today at one o’clock.”

Remembering her letter from Polly Dannon, Tonks nodded approval and said, “Perfect. I can question McManus’s girlfriend while we’re there.”

“Is she a student?”

“No, she’s visiting some friends in Hogsmeade.” Said Tonks, as she rummaged in a drawer for a piece of parchment and a quill.

Quickly, Tonks scribbled out a letter to Dannon informing her that she would be at the Three Broomsticks at three that afternoon and that her appearance would be strongly appreciated.

Gunther, her feisty and ornery eagle owl, was perched in a large enclosed cage that was pushed into the corner of the living room, sound asleep. His round eyes fluttered open when she approached. He looked at her for a long second and immediately closed them again.

“Oh, don’t act like you’re too tired.” She scolded as she tied the letter to his leg. “Now go do your job.”

Gunther opened his eyes again, looked at the small scroll tied to his leg and hooted deeply. He shook himself a bit, flapped his wide wings a few times, and flew out the open kitchen window.

A pot of tea later and Tonks was on her way to the office, having left Kingsley to have a nap on her couch and undoubtedly eat all of her biscuits, despite her warnings not to.

It wasn’t until she reached her cubicle inside the ministry building that the trouble began. Though at first glance one would probably not consider it trouble, but Tonks was not most people.

First, she encountered a very shallow and menacing glare from Sherwood as Tonks sat at her desk, which made her more than a trifle uneasy. There were a great many things she needed, but having Sherwood make Pyle suspicious of her was not one of them.

When she looked away from Sherwood, she came nose to parchment with an Interoffice Memo; it’s fiery orange color nearly burning her corneas. These types of memos were generally reserved for changes in procedure or Ministry wide alerts. The same kind of memo had gone out after Sirius’s escape from Azkaban.

She eyed it miserably as it hovered above her desk patiently, waiting for her to snatch it out of the air and read it. But she didn’t want to read it. She had a very bad feeling that the contents of the memo were directly related to something involving her.

A deep breath later and she had ripped it open.


Records and Files Procedural Amendment #12a

It is hereby required that all employees (Wizangamot members and Aurors excluded) who seek to view or remove any parchments residing in the Records Hall (including criminal files and employee files) shall submit to a veritaserum induced inquiry. Failure to do so will result in immediate suspension from duties pending a hearing for the review of the facts surrounding the incident.

Signed,

Cornelius Fudge
Minister for Magic


Her eyes nearly shot out of her head. Tonks read the memo through two more times and took a big breath.

Well, at least it appears that they hadn’t pinned her to the breach. If Aurors were still allowed to see files without being interrogated, then they didn’t know that she had been the perpetrator.

Her thoughts refused to behave for the entirety of the morning after the memo. Her mind repeatedly drifted to the day, not even a week before that she had taken on the visage of Percy Weasley and filched copies of the Ministry plans. She reviewed and analyzed every moment of the day and was forced to pin point the moment of Ministry suspicion on her untimely encounter with Scrimgeour. It was simply the only point at which she encountered anyone who acted out of the ordinary.

When midday finally appeared, Tonks had accomplished absolutely nothing. She hated not being productive, absolutely hated it. But her lack of achievements made no difference to her schedule; she was expected in Dumbledore’s office at one, and she was not going to be late or cancel no matter how little she managed to do that day.

She was nearly to the elevator when Sherwood stepped unexpectedly in her way, blocking her path. The tall mannish woman, towered over Tonks’s petite, yet strong frame, and her deep set eyes bored into the smaller woman’s bright ones. For a moment Tonks was sure that Sherwood was going to punch her or hex her and she found herself weighing the odds on a fight between them.

To her relief, but not to her surprise, Sherwood said, in deep and harsh tones, “Where are you off to?”

Tonks wanted desperately to tell her to back off and stay out of matters that did not concern her, but knowing that she would only make matters worse for herself and possibly endanger the Order, she held her tongue, though she felt that it had cost her pride something to do so.

“I am off to meet with a witness.” Said Tonks, doing her best to sound professionally cordial.

“Is that so?”

“So it is.” She said as she made to walk around Sherwood, but was blocked again by the woman’s considerably larger frame.

“I am going to be late.” Tonks said, making a concealed effort to keep the anger out of her voice.

“Why have you been sneaking around?”

“Sneaking?” Tonks had a second of sheer horror at the idea of Sherwood knowing about her hours slumped under the Invisibility Cloak on level ten, but then her brain revved up and she realized that Sherwood was hunting for information. “Perhaps you are imagining things.”

“Perhaps I am not.” Sherwood said defiantly, but backed away to allow Tonks passage down the corridore, nonetheless.

She doesn’t know anything, Tonks reassured herself, but knew that she would have to watch her behavior more cautiously. That was the second time that day that she had drawn suspicion. Albeit the new records procedure was not as yet connected to her, but it was the result of her, nevertheless, and she couldn’t afford to stir up any more trouble.

Choosing to floo home and collect Kingsley, Tonks stood, impatiently in the line for one of the fires in the Ministry’s atrium and tapped her foot anxiously on the tile floor. She was uncharacteristically twitchy and it grated on her, which didn’t help matters. Perhaps it was all of the suspicion that had been so suddenly placed at her feet, or the approaching meeting with Dumbledore, or, worse, her intuition trying to tell her something. She did not know precisely which was causing her to act so jumpy, nor could she stop it.

So, when a voice unexpectedly called her name from behind her, she spun around so fast that her feet slipped on the slick tile underfoot and she fell with a dull thud onto her bum.

The people in the immediate area chuckled or looked on with concern, and some, having been in the vicinity of Tonks before, simply smiled and continued about their business. As soon as it was clear that she was all right, no permanent harm done, the onlookers returned to whatever they had been doing before her moment of “grace.”

She looked again in the direction of the voice and was startled to find Bill Weasley grinning at her. Standing next to him, her fingers linked with his, was a tall and astonishingly beautiful woman with silvery-blond hair and clear blue eyes. This woman was obviously Fleur Delacour.

“Wotcher Bill.”

“This is Fleur.” Bill said. “Fleur this is my friend Tonks.”

“Hello,” said Tonks, “I understand you are excellent at English.”

Bill’s face burned so red that Tonks was sure it would surpass the shade of his hair and he narrowed his eyes warningly at her, but Fleur had missed the joke, instead clutching his arm and beaming at him.

“You zed I am eggeselant?” She blurted, clearly delighted with the news.

“Er…yeah.” Bill smiled at her and she threw her long thin arms around him and giggled.

For Merlin’s sake! If I ever act this sappy, please let me die.

“Anyway, what are you doing here?” Asked Tonks, more to make them stop being cute, than out of curiosity.

“We’re renewing Fleur’s work visa.”



FEED ME!! (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704)

Okay, I messed up last week and posted the wrong version of the second part of Chapter 8. :grumble: Ooops! So, I have deleted the last little bit of last weeks post and the new post will pick up right where the changes start. Sorry, but it will be better, I promise!!!!!

You know you want to! (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704)



“I ‘ave to do eet every tree months. Eet is a pain een my bottom.”

“Governments usually are. Well, it looks like I’m next into the fire. See you Bill and nice to meet you Fleur.”

Tonks waved goodbye and stepped into the fire, but as she was bent over to take some powder from the bowl on the floor, another voice said her name. She spun round to her left to see who was talking to her and her head collided sharply with the brick wall of the fireplace. Stars danced in front of her eyes and the voices that had been so loud a moment before went silent. She felt her self begin to fall, but someone caught her shoulders and held her upright. It was a few moments before the pain in her head began to throb and the world came back into focus. She was staring at large, soft brown eyes that had crinkly little lines at the edges and thick dark lashes.

“If one more person does that to me today I am going to scream.”

The crinkly lines deepened and elongated and Remus smiled at her.

“Blaming other people for your clumsiness now, eh?”

“People should be extra cautious around me,” said Tonks, who was struggling to stand upright, but was held in a bit of a slouch against the brick back of the fireplace by Remus.
“So you don’t kill them in a random act of unsteadiness?”

She struggled against his restraining hands again, but he appeared to be inspecting her head and wouldn’t let her move.

“Them?” she asked, “Forget them, I don’t particularly enjoy knocking myself silly every five minutes. Now, will you just let me go?”

Remus, apparently satisfied that she was capable of supporting herself, let go of her shoulders and stepped one pace back.

“You know, for a mangy old guy you’re pretty strong.”

“I eat a lot of chocolate.”

“Hey!” Said an angry voice from behind Remus, “Are you going somewhere or are you just going to stand there all day?”

A short hairy man was tapping his foot impatiently and looking very put out.

“Just a moment, take a calming draught or something!” Tonks said a little to loudly. She turned to Remus and softened her tone, “What are you doing here?”

“I had to fill out some paperwork, Department of Magical Creatures…well, you know.” He smiled very sadly at her and she had a twinge of annoyance unexpectedly spring up. Umbrige and her ridiculous anti-werewolf campaign was really making life for Remus miserable.

“Where are you off to in the middle of the day?” He asked, changing the subject quite abruptly.

“I…er…a meeting in Hogsmeade.”

Remus nodded in understanding, but said in a very noncommittal voice, “Oh, I was just up there a few weeks ago. Nice place; brings back memories of my misspent youth.”

“The only way to spend a youth, in my opinion,” said Tonks with a smile. “But I really have to be off.”

“See you.” Remus said, waved a tiny wave and set off across the atrium.

“’Bout time!” Said the disgruntled man in line, but Tonks ignored him.

Turning back to the fire, she tossed a handful of floo powder at her feet, stated her address and felt herself spin wildly as the floo network transported her to the fireplace in her living room.

Kingsley was waiting on the couch when she was ejected from the fire, gray powder wafting about and streaking her skin and clothes.

“What took you so long?” He wanted to know.

“Which do you want first? The new procedures in Records, - ”

“Saw that.”

“The suspicions of Spectra Sherwood, or people sneaking up behind me?”

Apparently taking a cue from Tonks’s demeanor, Kingsley stepped into the fire and said, “We’ll talk about it later. I thought we’d floo to the Three Broomsticks and walk the rest of the way in.”

She nodded and within minutes they were both standing in the middle of the pub called the Three Broomsticks being waved heartily at by Madam Rosmerta, the ever friendly, buxom, proprietor.

The Aurors waved and called a greeting over the noise of the lunch crowd on their way to the door. Once outside, they turned right onto the main street and walked in the direction of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.



*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*



It was not being back on school grounds or the dusty tapestries or the long tables in the Great Hall or even the sight of ugly, bitter, old Filch that was so nostalgic for Tonks; it was being back in Dumbledore’s office that gave her such a reflective mental state all of a sudden. Years of trouble and fun and learning clambered backing into her brain as she mentally retraced mischievous plans for mayhem. She was bombarded with memories of last minute study sessions and classes and NEWTS and OWLS and fanged Frisbees and portable waterfalls and so many other things that she was smiling fondly to herself when they reached the spiral stairs.

Dumbledore was not in his chair behind his large desk when they entered and Tonks stole a moment to look around. The cluttered round room was just the same as it had been in her years as a student; she would know, she was in there often enough. Portraits of former Headmasters and Headmistresses feigned sleep and all of the strange magical objects clinked and spun and whirred and smoked on their tables or shelves. Somehow the office had evolved for her and no longer represented trouble, as it had when she was a child, but now represented safety and strength.

A particularly loud snore from above her head caught her attention and she smiled when she turned to look at the painting from whence the sound came.

Phinneas Nigellus closed his oil paint eyes quickly when she looked at his portrait, but he had not been fast enough; she knew he had been watching her.

“Phinneas,” she said, the sound of a minor taunt in her voice, “did you want something?”

The image of her great great great grandfather continued his false slumber, but this time he was not pretending to snore, choosing instead, to let his head bob slightly on his shoulders.

“I am sorry to keep you waiting,” said a voice.

Dumbledore had entered through a door at the back of the room and was now standing next to the perch that held Fawkes, his beautiful red and gold phoenix, who hooted softly before tucking his beak under his wing and presumably having a nap.

“Oh, perfectly all right Albus,” said Kingsley, stepping forward.

Dumbledore motioned for them to sit in the cushy red and gold chintz armchairs facing his large desk. Kingsley sat at once, but Tonks hesitated slightly.

“Not to worry, Nmphadora.” Dumbledore said, his blue eyes twinkling. “There will be no detentions issued or points deducted today, you may sit in safety.”

She smiled broadly at him and did as he suggested.

“Now, do tell me about my army. I do so wish to know where I might find them; they would be rather useful at this juncture.”

So, she launched into the story of what had transpired between she and Vera Blottings. When she had finished speaking, Kingsley added that the procedures for acquiring documents held in the Records Hall had been tightened. Dumbledore listened in silence, his fingers locked in front of him and his face impassive.

Having abundant experience in the circular office, its walls heavy with paintings of animated canvas and oils paints, Tonks was quietly aware of the eaves droppers. Some of the people in the paintings sat motionless and listened, others shifted slightly to get a better view or to hear better, some even still pretended to be asleep, but were observed to go rigid or gasp at particularly interesting points in the story.

After a long silence, Dumbledore spoke,“This was to be expected.” He said. “Cornelius is very jealous and intimidated by me. It is unfortunate that he has chosen this path. It can only lead to failure.”

Dumbledore seemed to concentrate on the empty air in front of his nose for several minutes before speaking again.

“Phinneus, have you said hello to Nymphadora?”

Tonks looked round to see the slick black haired wizard, slouching in his chair, he was shifted slightly in her direction, one eye opened and glowering at her, the other squeezed tight as though trying to be sneaky.

The man’s image huffed at being noticed while spying and opened both eyes then, which he rolled toward the ceiling.

“I should say not, she spent so much time in here I daresay it’s better without her.”

“Ah, Phinneus, always a pleasure. So charming, really.” She turned to Kingsley, “Isn’t he just a peach?”

“Adorable.” The bald Auror said, one eye appraising the grumpy portrait.

“A long line of happy go lucky jokesters.” Tonks said, swiveling in her chair to face the Headmaster again.

“So, Sir, what are we to do about this army of yours?”

“Pfft,” said the portrait of a red-haired woman. “Let Fudge think what he wants, the stupid git.”

“Thank you Prunella.” Dumbledore sighed, “I will ask that you, with Arthur of course, learn anything that you can at the ministry. There is very little that we can do, aside from give him little fodder to use against us, so you will need to be exceptionally discreet. You understand?”

“Yes Sir.” They both stated very plainly.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Come on,” said Tonks, a playful tone on her lips, “for posterities sake.”

Kingsley looked at her, no mirth at all in his face or voice, “Who’s? Not mine, that’s for sure.”

“Mine. And it is far faster anyway.”

Tonks took hold of his arm and yanked him behind the tapestry of Walter the Warty. As the ancient old fabric closed over them and the light was blocked from the wall behind, a golden slit of light appeared in the wooden panels of the wall. The sliver of light stretched and grew and widened until it was the size of a doorway and glowing heavenly.

Tonks gave her friend a hefty shove and he tripped through the light and disappeared.

When she followed, she found him staring at the long cavernous passage in front of him. The tunnel was always a handy way to get out of school when need be in her student years and her idea to use it as a short cut to the Three Broomsticks, was very convenient, but met with some trepidation by her partner.

“See, not so bad.” She prodded him forward into the tunnel, where hundreds of glowing fairies were fluttering about the ceiling illuminating the passage so that it shone golden and warm.

“Where exactly does this go?”

Tonks smiled, “Comes out at the old muggle mine outside of town.”

It took them half the time to reach the Hogsmeade pub than if they had crossed the Hogwarts grounds and traveled the roads, still it was a hot day and a dirty tunnel, so by the time they found seats at the bar, they were a bit worse for wear.

Tonks was on her second butterbeer when a short, plump and dark haired woman approached her.

“Are you Ms. Tonks?”

“You must be Polly Dannon.”

“Yes,” said the woman shakily.

Truth be told, the woman appeared scattered and wobbly as though she had just been subjected to something very disturbing or painful. Her face was pale and her hands shook dramatically.

“Are you alright?” Tonks asked, steering the woman to a small round table in the back of the room.

“Y-y-yes.” She said, “thank you.”

“This won’t take long,” Tonks assured her and quickly pulled out her parchment and muggle pen.

As the Auror had expected, Dannon’s story and statements were unwaveringly the same as when she wrote them down for the official report weeks before.

Either you’ve been coached on what to say or you’ve got an exceptional memory.

“So,” said Tonks, “you saw him last, the night before he missed his scheduled shift ay Eeyleops, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“And he has no friends overseas or in the city that he may be visiting?”

“No.”

Tonks let out a heavy breath. “Has he any family other than this Damon?”

The woman shifted, but her voice remained predictably shaky, “Damon is his brother. The only family he has.”

“Okay. Thank you for your time and I’ll contact you if I need anything else.”

Well, that was interesting.


ASM dangles chocolate in front of your nose to lure you here (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704)

Enjoy!

Chapter 9
Unexpected



Between the Prophesy Watch, the routine stops at number 12, McManus and his incredibly irritating disappearing act, and tiptoeing around a very curt Sherwood to keep up the niceties with Pyle, Tonks was a zombie. She spent the weeks leading up to Harry’s trial in a daze of duties and paperwork and dark corridors and loud teenagers and screeching paintings. There was simply too much going on, her head was filled with so much that any moment she managed to take for relaxation was soon used to try and organize her thoughts. She had only been able to stay for two dinners at number 12 since the meeting in Dumbeldore’s office and was greatly missing the company and reprieve from her responsibilities.

She was not built that way. Her nature was light and fun and happy, but this manic and pressured person was not her, and Tonks found it very irritating to walk around all the time feeling like someone else. Looking like someone else was even irritating after a while, but feeling like someone else was infuriating.

She sat hunched and cross-legged in front of the door to the Department of Mysteries, her hair a pile of blond ringlets and her clothes wrinkled. It had been a long night and she was drained. But it was time to go and she was already standing when she saw Hestia slink around the corner and wave gently at the still air where Tonks was unseen under the Invisibility Cloak.

Without the energy for a joke or a chat, Tonks dragged off the cloak and handed it wordlessly to the dark haired witch before trudging out of the corridor.

It was just after five in the morning when Tonks reached the kitchen of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Molly was cooking breakfast for Arthur, Sirius and Remus, who were all sitting silently at the table with cups of coffee and bags under their eyes.

Worried about Harry, she thought.

Without a word, Tonks crossed to the dresser and removed a quill and parchment from the bottom drawer. She took them to the table and began to scribble out her account of the evening in front of the Department of Mysteries. When she had stuffed it into an envelope, she charmed it closed and passed it wordlessly to Sirius, who took it, understanding that he was to give it to Dumbledore when he saw him next.

“It’ll be fine.” Tonks said into the silence, as a very worried looking Molly sat a mug of coffee in front of her.

Sirius looked at her and managed a small smile, “I hope so.”

“Okay, enough brooding over what may or may not h-h-happen,” yawned Tonks.

It was only a matter of minutes before Harry entered the kitchen. Tonks, who had been right in the middle of talking about Scrimgeour’s suspicious behavior, looked up to see that the bags under his eyes were bigger and deeper than any of the adults’.

Molly did what Molly does, and rushed over to make food for Harry, but it seemed that no one else knew what to say or do, so Tonks fought back a yawn and said, “M-m-morning, Harry. Sleep alright?” in an attempt to bring some normality to the room.

They all looked and acted like the kid was marching off to the gallows or something. He was certainly in a tight spot and Tonks was worried just as much as the others, but in her opinion, sometimes it was better notto act the part.

“Yeah,” said Harry.

“I’ve b-b-been up all night.” This yawning is starting to get annoying. “Come and sit down.”

Tonks pulled a chair out for Harry and didn’t even care that she had knocked over the one beside it in the process.

“What do you want Harry?” Molly asked, “Porridge, muffins, bacon, eggs, toast?”

“Just toast, thanks.”

“What were you saying about Scrimgeour?” Remus asked, apparently not concerned that Harry was in the room.

“Oh…yeah…well, we need to be a bit more careful, he’s been asking Kingsley and me funny questions. The other day he stopped us and wanted to know what kind of torches were used in the higher levels, levels ten and nine specifically. So, he’s suspicious.”

“That’s not what we need right now.” Remus said looking at her a little too intently.

She had the faint impression that he was going to say something wildly off topic. She didn’t know what is was or why she had that feeling; maybe it was something in his eyes that she couldn’t quite place; was it wonder, or confusion that she saw there, or maybe curiosity?

Tonks opened her mouth to say something, but Sirius interjected.

“Yes, thank you Mr. Obvious.” He said to Remus, his voice stern, as though he was trying to change or steer the topic of conversation somewhere else.

Remus’s head turned away from Tonks and his glare fixed on his old friend. He looked very put out and she could see that Sirius looked down in silent apology for his remark.

“…and I’ll have to tell Dumbledore that I can’t do night duty tomorrow, I’m just t-t-too tired,” She said to bring them back to the situation at hand.

“I’ll cover for you,” Mr. Weasley offered. “I’m okay. I’ve got a report to finish anyway….”

But they couldn’t avoid the elephant in the room any longer. Harry and his hearing were upon them and no amount of shoptalk or cooking or insulting or pointed glaring was going to change it.

Arthur was the first to outright address what they had all been secretly trying to avoid.

“How are you feeling?”

In place of an answer, Harry shrugged.

“It’ll all be over soon,” Arthur went on in his most fatherly tone. “In a few hours’ time you’ll be cleared.”

Again Harry did not speak, this time he did not even shrug.

“The hearing’s on my floor. In Amelia’s Bones’s office…” Arthur explained Amelia’s position at the Ministry, but Harry appeared to be lost in his own thoughts. His eyes were distant and he was not reacting to any of Arthur’s words.

“Amelia Bones is okay, Harry.” Tonks said, trying to offer what comfort she could, though it was small. “She’s fair, she’ll hear you out.”

“Don’t loose your temper, be polite and stick to the facts,” said Sirius, his voice edgy and strained.

“The law’s on your side, even underage wizards are allowed to use magic in life threatening situations,” Remus said, more quietly than any of them had been before, which made Tonks impulsively look to the door to see if there were any fleshy strings snaking under it, attempting to hear what was being said. But there were none.

Molly attempted to make Harry’s hair behave, but abandoned her efforts after Arthur checked his watch and said not very subtly, “I think we’ll go now. We’re a bit early, but I think you’ll be better off there than hanging around here.”

As Harry stood, Tonks patted his arm and said, “You’ll be alright.” She didn’t know what else to say. It was highly possible that he wouldn’t be all right, that he was doomed to be an outcast, but she did her best to look positive.

“Good Luck,” said Remus, his eyes giving away the fact that he felt the same way as Tonks, “I’m sure it will be fine.”

“And if its not,” Sirius said, “I’ll see to Amelia Bones for you…” It was an attempt at humor and Harry appeared to appreciate it, for he smiled at Sirius. It was a weak and unconvincing smile, but a smile nonetheless.

And they were off. Harry and Arthur were out the door before Tonks knew it, leaving them all in concerned silence. Not even Scrimgeour’s suspiciousness warranted discussion at that point. There was nothing to be said, nothing that could be said in that moment, as Harry Potter began his walk into the unknown.

It was several minutes before the heavy silence was lifted. Sirius stood abruptly, his chair’s feet squeaking on the floor, and left the room with out so much as a goodbye.

Remus sighed and stared thoughtfully, as he was so apt to do, at the door through which his friend had just walked.

“He’s just nervous.” Tonks said in an attempt to free Remus’s mind of worry, though she knew perfectly well that it would do no good.

“He’s feeling guilty.” Remus answered, without looking away from the door. “He secretly wishes Harry is expelled so that he won’t have to leave.”

“Yeah,” she said, ignoring Molly’s huff of indignation and disapproval from across the room. “I kind of picked up on that too.”

“He doesn’t want to feel it, he knows he ought not, but I don’t think he can help it.”

“So, instead,” Tonks said, picking up Remus’s line of thought, “he broods and makes himself miserable.”

“Pretty much.”

But they were not afforded the occasion to continue picking apart Sirius’s psyche, because the twins and Ginny entered, talking loudly of how irritating and abhorrent they found the bickering of Ron and Hermione.

“Those two need to either kiss and get it over with or stop talking entirely.” Ginny said as she made her way to the stove and piled eggs on her plate.

“Personally, I think they like to fight,” said George.

“Yep,” agreed Fred, “makes their very dull personalities more interesting.”

“Fred!” Molly scolded. “They are not dull. Do not be rude.”

“How do you suppose Harry is doing?” Ginny said.

“He’s fine.” Remus answered, a reassuring smile affixed to his face.

“Absolutely fine.” Tonks added, though she didn’t feel that it was so, and doubted whether Remus did either. “They can’t convict him. He’s within the law.”

But instead of being reassured or calmed by these logical statements, the inhabitants of the kitchen in number twelve, Grimmauld Place shared a worried look and sat to eat their breakfasts in silence; none able to tear their minds away from the possible disaster that awaited Harry.



~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The day had passed; unlike they usually did as of late, extremely slowly. It was common for Tonks to be so caught up in something, whether it was sweet talking Pyle or listening around for mentions of Dumbledore’s army or looking for non-existent evidence on McManus, that her days flew by without a backward glance. But the day of Harry’s trial trudged along, the hands of the clock barely moving and the feeling of concern and indecision heavy in the air.

She had not expected to feel so strongly about the boy’s trial or about Harry himself. But she had instantly liked him upon meeting and he was important to those people in her life that she cared about; Sirius, Remus and the Weasleys, so she had found her self on the proverbial pins and needles all day long, awaiting word of the boy’s future.

By the time she reached the fires in the Ministry Atrium, she was exhausted from the wondering. Several times throughout the day, she had walked past Arthur’s office, but he was nowhere to be seen. Kingsley had not heard anything and jetted off to help arrest a drunken band of Goblins before noon and she couldn’t risk sending an owl to Grimmauld Place with Scrimgeour around. It had been a day in solitary confinement, as far as she was concerned, and her brain was mush from hashing out all of the possible scenarios.

As desperate as she was to know how Harry was, she was also in need of a shower, a rest and some food, so a stop at home before heading to Headquarters won out over satiating her curiosity and rushing off to number twelve to get the story.

As the emerald flames died out at her feet, Tonks heaved a deep sigh of exhaustion and slumped into her living room. She made it as far as the couch before she fell onto it and closed her eyes.

As if no time had passed at all, she woke with a start. There was a banging sound coming from somewhere outside. She shifted to listen while pulling her wand from her pocket.

Bang…bang…

Without a sound, she stood and crossed to the window, crouched low to the floor so that no stray curses or bullets, depending on exactly who was outside, would hit her, should they come through the window. It was good that she was bent so low to the carpet because she tripped over her robes twice before she made it to the window.

Outside, the ebony of the night was just beginning to recede and the moon, bright and whole, was slipping elegantly behind the trees of a distant grove. The street lamps were still the main source of light between the houses, as the sun had not yet shed its rays upon her street.

Bang…clang…

She swiveled her head in the direction of the sound and strained to see what it was. She had to press her nose against a small corner of glass and squint into the dawn to make anything out.

Crash…clang…

There was something out there: a figure. It was swerving and weaving about down the sidewalk. It was large, whatever it was and it was badly hurt. The dark form continued, rather quicker than she expected for how seemingly bad it was hurt, down her street, knocking into rubbish bins and railings and post boxes, making quite the racket.

It only took a matter of moments before Tonks realized where it was headed: to her house. She sat up and tightened her grip on her wand.

What the…?

But the rest of the question fell away into nothingness, because as soon as she had started to say it, it was rendered inconsequential as the reality of what she was witnessing struck her.


**************
What's this? A Cliffie? How dare me?!? (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?p=3544168#post3544168) Horrible, truly horrible, I know.

A/N: And we are back with your regularly scheduled programming. Here we start to stray slightly from solid canon. I really wanted to play with the characters a bit and since we really haveno idea what was going on when the kids were not around we are free to speculate. Granted, I decided to step it up a tiny bit to increase the drama and entertainment value, but I think it is all reasonable. Especially when we reach the end and it all comes together for you (I already know what happens! :p) Anyway, go forth and read!

Witch trials to be held here (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704&page=8)

Chapter 9, Part two

The moon sank below the trees and the animal fell with a dull thud onto the concrete sidewalk and she could clearly make out the large dog-like form of a wolf, a werewolf.

As the werewolf attempted to heave its self onto all four legs again, it shuddered, shifted awkwardly and fell.

Tonks did not waste a second once she understood, once she knew what was happening. She ran to the couch, yanked off the blanket left over from Kingsley’s nap and made for the door and hit the pavement running, she tripped over a crack, but managed to stay on her feet. As she ran toward the jolting and changing figure, she silently cursed herself for not having recognized Remus earlier. Not that she had ever seen him in his wolf form, but she felt bad about watching him struggle up the street when she could have helped sooner.

Remus had transformed back into his human self when she reached him, battered, bruised, bloody and naked on the cold hard concrete. She threw the blanket over him and bent down next to him. He was a mess. His body was covered in contusions and deep gashes; his shoulder looked to be dislocated; his lip was split; and his eyes were blackened.

What the bloody h*ll happened to you?

“Remus, you have to go a bit further. You can’t stay right here. We’ll go inside, number seven, Diana Drive,” she said to allow him access to her home.

His acknowledgement came in the form of a grunt and he tried to stand, but his legs gave out. He slumped and she caught him under the shoulders and supported him back to the door of her house. She didn’t dare risk magic in a Muggle neighborhood, or she would have simply Mobilacorpused him into the house. As it was, they were in the midst of a street full of Muggles probably drinking their coffee and getting ready to leave for work, so Tonks gingerly led him through the front door and onto the couch without the use of her wand.

“It’s a good thing you’re so skinny.”

He did not answer, his purpled eyes were closed and his breathing was slow and shallow. He looked horrendous and she wondered exactly what or who had caused all of his injuries. The extent of his wounds suggested an attack by more than one individual and made Tonks very concerned. Who would attack a man of such even temper in such a brutal manner?

Then she remembered the moon.

If he had been in his werewolf state and been in a fight with wizards or humans, it was unlikely that his injuries would be that extensive; magic used on a werewolf was greatly reduced and sometimes entirely ineffective and very few humans would be able to catch, corner and attack a full grown werewolf and leave him in such a state. No, there was only one conclusion; he had been attacked by other Werewolves. And they were not on Wolfsbane.

Remus’s body twitched suddenly and his eyes fluttered for a second before he fell motionless once again.

She had to get help. He needed a Healer; her basic first-aid spells were no match for Werewolf inflicted wounds. But she couldn’t take him to St. Mungo’s; the restrictions on werewolves were so stringent that they would probably send him to Azkaban for fighting and being in Muggle inhabited areas during the full moon.

Bloody Deloris Umbrige!

Without a second thought, Tonks jumped into her fire and tossed the magical powder at her feet. She hollered out the address and was only mildly aware of the spinning fire grates as she was whipped and spun to her destination, for her mind was fast at work trying to answer all of the questions that Remus’s battered body had arisen.

What was he doing in a Muggle neighborhood on a full moon? Where had he been when he was attacked? What was he doing with other werewolves, when he had made the pack he was infiltrating angry? Was he provoked, did he do the provoking? No, Remus wouldn’t draw anyone into a fight.

But her thoughts were interrupted by her arrival in a large stone fireplace. She catapulted herself out onto the hardwood floor, skidded on its highly polished surface and nearly landed on her face. Looking up, she met the surprised and concerned eyes of her mother.

Andromeda Tonks was a tall thin blond woman, with a heart shaped face and heavily lidded blue eyes. Unlike her daughter, she moved with grace and agility and, though it was very clear that she did not seek to achieve it, an air of nobility.

Tonks saw her mother stand, her wand out, the book she had been reading fell, forgotten, to the floor and a hard look overtook her eyes.

“Mum, you have to come. Please hurry.”


“Nymphadora, what on earth is this all about?”

“It’s a friend. He’s hurt. Please!” Tonks pleaded, though she knew she did not need to. Her mother would always come to her, or anyone else’s aid; she pleaded more for speed than assistance.

“Yes, of course. Where?”

“My house,” said Tonks as she prodded her mother forward.

It was only a matter of seconds before they were both back at Tonk’s home, staring at the limp body of Remus Lupin. To Tonks’s shock, he had managed to transfigure the blanket she had draped around him into a pair of ugly misshapen pants, but must have then passed out again, because, aside from the awkward pants, he was just as she had left him; sprawled and broken on his back, his skin pale under the myriad of bruises and welts and blood.

Oh, the blood. There seemed entirely too much of it; the floor was streaked with red from where she had nearly dragged him inside, the couch was stained rusty colored under his damaged body and Tonks’s robes were dampened and sticky.

There is too much blood.

Andromeda looked, shocked and confused at Tonks, but Tonks simply shook her head and knelt at Remus’s side.

“Mum, I’ll explain after you help him.”

It took several minutes for her mother to assess the damage. As she worked, she muttered spells and incantations while waving her wand over the angry red welts and cuts. Sometimes a bruise would disappear or a scrape would knit its self closed, but most of the wounds refused to heal, stubbornly remaining just as deep and dark as before.

She conjured a dark bottle of what Tonks was fairly certain was a blood replenishing potion out of thin air and fed it slowly, but steadily to him. He did not even seem to register that any of this was taking place. His face never flinched, his eyes never fluttered and no sounds emanated from him.

As her mother worked, Tonks couldn’t help but notice that Remus had many more scars scattered about his body. Most were long and thin; the scars of claws dragged in long swipes against flesh, tearing it; ripping it neatly like ribbons. But one, on his left shoulder, was different. Several jagged teeth had punctured there, had sank, upper jaw at the clavicle and lower at the blade of the shoulder, deep into three-year-old skin and muscle and bone. That was the start of it all, the place where Greyback had bitten Remus and altered his existence forever.

She had a moment of sorrow for the life he could have had, the life he should have had, but it was pushed away by her mother’s voice.

“There isn’t much more that I can do. These are primarily Werewolf bites, they won’t be magically healed; they have to heal on their own.”

Tonks nodded and gently let go of Remus’s hand, which she had only then realized that she was gripping.

“Is that Remus Lupin?” Andromeda asked.

“Yes.”

Tonks watched her mother’s face fall as she looked at Remus’s limp form and she sighed sadly, almost pitifully.

“Mum, it’s okay. He was already a Werewolf.”

Andromeda looked up, her face a mixture of surprise and thoughtfulness, “I didn’t know. How long?”

“A very long time.”

“And why is here, in a state such as this after a full moon?”

“I really don’t know, but I suspect he was doing some work for The Order of the Phoenix when he was attacked.” Tonks responded conversationally as though she was pointing out the time or the state of the weather.

There, that wasn’t so hard. The truth is okay.

But her mother fixed a stare on her worthy of Minerva McGonagall and said, “Well, I would say you have a story to share with dear old mum, no?”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Over her steaming cup of tea, Tonks watched her mother eye her appraisingly and hoped to Merlin that being honest had been the correct choice. It was not an easy task to confess to her mother that she was a treasonous member of an underground organization working in opposition of the Ministry, no matter how noble the cause was or how right the actions were. But the most difficult part of their discussion by far had been revealing to her mother that Sirius, her favorite cousin, was innocent, in hiding, and that Tonks was in regular contact with him.

It took a few moments for the weight of the confessions to settle, but when it had done, Andromeda appeared to take it all quite well. She seemed to be torn between concern for her daughter’s safety and wanting to understand this new development in Tonks’s life.

“You won’t do anything reckless will you?”

“Nothing more reckless than necessary.”

Andromeda narrowed her eyes, “That’s a cop out Nymphadora, and you know it.”

“Look, Mum, it is hardly more dangerous than my regular job - ”

“Yes,” she interrupted, “and we both know how I feel about that.”

“Can we please not…?”

But Tonks’s words were halted by a deep groan from the couch. Both women were on their feet and moving into the living room immediately.

Remus shifted slightly and moaned again. His eyes squinted closed tightly in pain and he made a soured face before taking a very deep breath and falling still.

“Try not to move,” said Andromeda.

“It hurts too much to move.” Remus croaked.

“Welcome back to the world of the conscious, we hope you’ll stay a while.” Tonks said trying desperately to hide how scared and relieved she felt all at once, but she thought she heard her voice quiver in spite of herself.

Remus’s eyes slowly opened and fixed on Tonks. Brown eyes met brown eyes and held. There was a second, a very awkward second, when no one spoke and neither looked away. But finally Remus broke the silence.

“How did I get here? Where is here? What happened?”

“You stumbled. My house. No idea.”

He looked at her and made to sit upright, but groaned and fell still again, “Your house? I don’t even know where you live.”

“You do now. But I would like to know how you found it if you didn’t know where it was.”

Remus took a steadying breath and said, “Was trying to get to Kingsley’s.”

“Ah,” Tonks smiled, “you’re about six blocks off the mark.”

“A happy accident then.” Andromeda said.

Registering a different voice in the room, Remus’s eye moved toward it and widened slightly as he recognized Tonks’s mother.

“Andromeda. Hello.”

“Hello, Remus. Nice to see you, too bad you’re nearly dead.” She smiled at him.

“Well, I’ll take it that the nearly is your doing. Thank you.”

“Anything for Nymphadora, who was quite useless in the whole business.”

“Mum.”

“Let’s see if we can’t do something to help with the pain, then.” Andromeda said as she waved her wand over his wounds and muttered under her breath. “The process may hurt, but I promise it will feel better afterward.”

Tonks could see Remus’s muscles constrict as her mother worked and he clenched his jaw in pain.

“Love the pants, Remus,” she said to try and distract him from what her mother was doing. “Only you; modest ‘til the very end.”

He did not answer, but settled a very pointed glare on her that she took to mean that the topic of conversation was not to his liking. So, of course, she persisted.

“If I wanted to peek; odd, ill-fitting pants were not going to stop me, you know.”

Another glare.

“Still, that was my favorite blanket. You are going to have to buy me a new one.”

“I’ll transfigure it back if you promise to shut up.”

Smiling to herself, Tonks said, “I don’t want that one! Not unless you transfigured some underwear first. Disgusting.”

Remus rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Fine then, I owe you one ugly brown blanket.”

“It was not ugly! It was very nice…until you turned it into elephant pants. Be careful or I’ll tell McGonagall about your sub par transfiguration skills. ”

“Sub par? I was in a bit of a bind; I’ll have you know. What with being nearly dead and all!”

“Excuses, excuses.”

Andromeda, who had actually finished her healing several minutes before, watched with great interest as her daughter and Remus bickered.

“Transfiguration was my best subject, thank you!”

“Really?” Tonks feigned shock, “I would have thought it would have been Care of Magical Creatures. You being one and all…”

“What happened to you shutting up?”

“Decided against it.”

“Well…”

But Remus didn’t get to finish his retort because at that moment Andromeda cleared her throat very loudly.

Remus, apparently remembering where he was and what he was doing, blushed an impressive shade of magenta and fixed his gaze on his hands.

“I have to go now,” said Andromeda, “If you need anything else come and get me, alright?”

Tonks nodded as her mother stepped into the fire. She looked from Tonks to Remus and back to her daughter again, an expression of cautious wonder on her face.

“Goodbye, Nymphadora.” And she was gone.

“You scared her off!” Tonks teased, but when she turned back around, Remus was sound asleep, soft rhythmic breaths filtering through the silence between them. A car passed outside and a dog barked somewhere in the distance, but Tonks did not hear them; she heard only the gentle sounds of the battered, beaten, scruffy and worn man on her couch. He made a quiet sound in his sleep and shifted only slightly, but did not wake. A horn sounded somewhere nearby and a bird sang to the sun, but only he filled her ears and her mind.

“Oh no.” She mumbled as she tore herself away and walked up the stairs. “Do not go there, Nymphadora Tonks, do not go there.”



You can't possibly hate me that much. (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704&page=8)

Ducks incoming spell-fire ”Protego!” I know, I know! This update is late. Don’t jinx me! Sorry. But on a happy note, it’s up now! :D Enjoy the next installment! Things are getting better, if you know what I mean! ;)

Come Seek Me Where Your Voices Sound. (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704&page=8)



Chapter 10
The Lies We Tell Our Selves



The following morning found Remus much improved. Though many of his visible reminders from the night before were still red and swollen, his spirits were quite buoyant. So much so that when Tonks stumbled, quite literally, down the stairs, it was to find her unexpected houseguest standing in the kitchen cooking breakfast.

“Good morning.” He said.

Tired from a restless and sleepless night, much of which had been spent sneaking downstairs to be sure that Remus had still been breathing; she only grunted in response and deposited herself in a chair at the small café table in her kitchen.

“Who do you think you are, Molly?”

Remus ignored her and continued to cook.

“I hope you made coffee. I didn’t sleep a wink.”

“Here.” He placed a heavy green mug in front of her and she smiled.

“Thank you. Maybe you’re not so bad after all.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” said Remus, setting a plate of bacon and eggs on the table.

“You do that,” she replied, sipping the coffee.

She was far happier than she was letting on about his dramatically improved condition. The lack of sleep had definitely put her in low spirits, but she had to confess, even if only to her self, that some of the grumpiness was just for show.

Sometime during the night she had had the terrifying thought that someone might pick up on her inner war over Remus Lupin. She wasn’t sure at what point he managed to elevate from a minor, completely avoidable crush to a huge inescapable one, but it had happened; it was right there, clear as day, staring her in the face, with a plate of eggs and a pot of coffee. And all sides of her sensibilities were waging war with one another over what was the appropriate action, assuming there was one at all.

What would she do if some incredibly perceptive person noticed a change in her behavior? What if Remus noticed? What would he do, what would she do? They were in the middle of a war that no one was willing to acknowledge and right in the line of fire from both sides; that was no time to be fawning over fellow “soldiers.”

Resolving to ignore the situation until she could sit in a quiet space and sort through her thoughts and feeling, Tonks finished off her coffee and began to eat her eggs.

“I’m sorry about last night.” Remus said suddenly.

Tonks looked up to find him watching her.

“I was ambushed,” he continued, looking from her face to his hands. “The Werewolves didn’t want me there, but Dumbledore, and at the time I had agreed, however cautiously, thought that they might change their minds if I showed trust by spending a full moon with them. Make myself vulnerable, to show faith. But after the change they attacked me,”

“But if they weren’t on Wolfsbane, how did they remember that they were angry with you?” Tonks asked.

“They didn’t. They attacked me because I was the outsider. I’m not a member of the pack, so they forced me out.” He looked up and smiled ruefully. “I guess that’s the end of my life as a spy.”

“You’re lucky it wasn’t the end of your life, period.”

“Thank you, for helping me.” It was said with such pure sincerity that Tonks blushed heavily. He meant it, she could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice; he was truly, whole-heartedly thankful for her help.

Uneasy with personal praise and the way he was looking at her, Tonks turned her head away. “Well, my mum did most of it.”

“No,” he said, crossing the room to stand over her. He stood facing her and placed one hand on each shoulder as he spoke, “you did. And I owe you my life. Thank you.”

Don’t touch me. I can’t trust myself if you touch me.

“Anytime,” she said, trying desperately to ignore the fluttering in her stomach and the chill that raced from her shoulders where he touched her down her spine.

Remus smiled and moved away to sit at the table apparently unaware of the awkwardness and flustering that she felt.

Desperately seeking something to talk about, anything to talk about, she said the first thing that came into her head, “Why didn’t you just go to Grimmauld Place last night?”

“I didn’t want to show up there like that with the kids around.”

“Well, then you won’t be going back for several days,” she gestured to the wounds that were stubbornly refusing to disappear.

“I think they’d be alright with this, it’s really not so bad.”

Tonks raised a skeptical eyebrow as she ran her gaze over the red gashes along his neck and chin, “How exactly are you going to explain the wounds away, Remus? Encounter with an angry puppy? With the extendable ears, Harry’s nosiness and Hermione’s brains, they’ll have you pegged in ten minutes flat.”

Remus chuckled between bites of bacon.

“I know. They really are impossible.”

“Plus,” Tonks said, gesturing with a floppy piece of bacon to hide that her hands were still shaking a bit, “You shouldn’t let anyone, I mean anyone we can’t explicitly trust, see you with those injuries. With Umbridge’s anti-Werewolf stuff so hot right now, you’d surely be made an example of.”

Remus sighed and looked contemplatively at the plate in front of him.

“Harry was cleared,” he said suddenly.

In all of the chaos of the night before, Tonks had forgotten to ask what happened with Harry’s trial. It was a relief of epic proportions to learn that he was acquitted and could go back to Hogwarts and keep his wand; she had a strong feeling he would need it in the future.

“Oh, good,” she said sincerely, even as she was forced to push away thoughts of what effect his leaving would have on Sirius. That was contemplation for another time.

Maybe I should bring it up with Remus later, after getting a feel for Sirius’s mood. Wait! No! You may not plan future conversation with him, her mind reeled at her, you are supposed to be avoiding him. Oh, lovely, now I’m arguing with myself in my own head. This cannot be good.

“There’s more,” Remus said, knocking her out of her reverie. “They pushed through a decree and Fudge appointed a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. It’s Umbridge.”

Tonks’s gasp caught in her throat and she stared at him, shock and confusion clearly showing in her eyes.

Remus smiled and said, “There’s a letter from Fudge’s office on the mantle that came this morning, it must be detailing the new decree.” And when she gave him a slightly suspicious look he said, “I didn’t read it. Dumbledore sent an owl this morning with the details, that’s how I know.”

“Umbridge?”

He nodded and drank from his cup.

“But she’s an evil old useless cow.”

The corners of his mouth twitching, Remus said, “I always thought she looked more like a toad, myself, but the evil, old and useless are pretty correct. Not to mention completely under qualified.”

“How can the ministry intervene at Hogwarts, I didn’t think they had any authority there.”

“They shouldn’t have much, but I suspect Dumbledore is playing along a bit more than he has to in order to keep the civilities.”

Tonks nodded and said, “Not to mention what they say about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer.

“Yes, probably.”

There was a long moment when neither knew exactly where to take the conversation, and ended up sitting in silence. Tonks was busy trying not to think of Remus as anything but a colleague and failing miserably. She just kept remembering how terrified she had been, as he lay there bloody and unconscious and then how relieved she felt when he had opened his eyes. But she didn’t want this complication, after all falling for a Werewolf-spy wasn’t exactly the way to simplify ones life. This was tremendously unwelcome and she knew it was best to simply push the childish feelings away. So, she tried not to look at him or think of anything about him that could be considered endearing or attractive.

Finally, Remus spoke.

“If I can’t go back to number twelve, I could stay with Kingsley, I suppose.”

And then, suddenly and in direct opposition to what she had been trying so very hard to convince herself of, Tonks lost her mind and said, “You are such a prat. You’ll stay here and continue to be my maid.” She stood, finished off the last of her coffee and crossed to the fire, “And you won’t complain because you owe me your life, remember?”

Remus stared at her, a mixture of amusement and bewilderment on his damaged face.

“Oh,” she continued, for the first time noticing his attire, “where did you get your robes?”

Remus looked down at the patched and worn robes that he was wearing.

“Sirius brought them early this morning. He popped his head in the fire to see if you knew where I was.”

“And did he like your pants?”

Eyes narrowed and jaw clenched, he said, “he brought me my robes.”

“I’ll take that as a no.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


The weeks that followed Remus’s appearance outside her house were just as full as any of the previous had been since her introduction to the Order. The only difference was that Remus had become her new housemate while he recuperated and his wounds healed.

He turned out to be a rather fun friend to have around. He was far better at any of the domestic magic that Tonks was so untalented at and held up his end of a conversation with great competence. All in all, Remus was very useful; like a Seeing Eye dog, a comparison he did not find all that amusing.

“Sirius is the mutt, though I do admit, he’s far less useful than a guide dog.” Remus teased.

“Technically, wouldn’t he be a pure-bread?” Tomks said with a smirk.

Remus rolled his eyes in place of an answer.

“Wolves are canines.” She had continued.

“Have you ever seen a guide wolf for the blind?”

But this easy conversation and amusing banter was actually causing Tonks a fair amount of emotional turmoil. She had attributed inviting Remus to stay with her to temporary insanity due to the immense stress she had been under and had resolved her self to finding as many faults in him as possible.

The trouble with this was not her logic, but his lack of faults. Aside from the whole Werewolf thing, he was rich in all of the qualities that she admired and regarded favorably. And much to her annoyance a tiny voice in her head managed to neutralize the concern about the Werewolf issue. You know perfectly well how to make the Wolfsbane potion, it said. You’ve even got a few ingredients in the pantry. It was maddening to try to dislike, or at least be indifferent to, someone and repeatedly be reminded why she liked them in the first place.

Had she not been able to escape to work, she wasn’t sure what would have happened, but she knew that her feeling were not easing or softening, only getting stronger and more difficult to hide.

Over the course of time that Remus was staying at Tonks’s he did occasionally stop by number twelve, but always late at night or via the kitchen fire just before a meeting when the kids had all been shooed off to other parts of the house.

The first meeting after his attack was interesting on several levels. Sirius acted as though Remus was perfectly normal, but Tonks was fairly certain that he was secretly harboring some jealousy at being unable to do something useful and exciting. Snape was silently amused by Remus’s battered appearnce and his apparent failure to turn the Werewolf tide in their favor. Molly had fussed and tried desperately not to cry, but failed, shedding tear after tear into her handkerchief with silent sobs. Bill had wanted details and listened with attentive awe and Mad-Eye had seemed subtlety concerned about Remus.

Tonks and Remus had stayed late one meeting about a week after his fight to further discuss Umbridge and found that no one was much too thrilled at the prospect of having her inside Hogwarts.

“Just you wait,” Sirius said, “she’ll be taking over and teaching Underwater Basket Weaving or How Not to Question Your Government or something before the year is out. Mark my words.”

No one had disagreed. It seemed they were all of like mind on the subject.

“That wicked old wench has no business teaching. None!” Bill had vented. “She’s nothing more than a glorified note-taker and she’ll do nothing but try to twist the minds of her students to reflect what the ministry says.”

They went on like that for nearly an hour, each taking turns berating the woman. Remus, normally soft spoken and open minded, abused her worse than any of them. It was, however, his right to do so and he had far more reason than any of them.

“Bigoted, crude, low classed, brain damaged wench,” he had said, shocking Tonks with his seemingly uncharacteristic outburst. “She doesn’t even recognize that she’s the source of the problem. These Werewolves are primarily good people, not evil killers, but what does she expect them to do when they are not allowed to work or rent homes or have easy access to Wolfsbane? And with her planting the idea that we’re all monstrous beasts who want to kill everything in the minds of the public, she’s only feeding the stigma, which only makes the Werewolves want to lash out! And what was that bit about tagging mermaids a few months back? Unbelievable!”

Finally, Remus had thrown his hands up in the air and stomped off to the fire.

“So, he’s not a fan, then?” Sirius said as Remus’s form spun away and out of the fire.

“Where’s he going?” Bill, who had not been to number twelve in several weeks asked, looking confused.

“He’s shacking up with dear Nymphadora, here.”

Tonks shot Sirius a glance of pure loathing. But even as she tried to kill him with her eyes, she felt a blush creep across her cheeks. The last thing that she needed was to have people thinking that there was something other than Order related activities happening between them. Especially since she was struggling with very unwelcome and poorly timed feelings about Remus, as it was.

“He’s staying at my house so that he doesn’t have to explain the wounds to the kids.” She explained.

But Sirius was not going to let it die there, apparently.

“Then why are you blushing?”

“I…er…you’re a git!” She stammered before regaining her composure. “Don’t try to make this into something it’s not. He needed a place to stay. That’s all, the end.”

“If you say so,” he said, smiling, “but I expect you to name your firstborn after me.”

Bill was muffling his laughter in his hands and his face had gone purple with the attempt to stop it all together. Unable to keep it in, he abandoned the façade entirely and erupted into loud roaring cackles.

“I don’t know how you do it, Tonks,” he managed between laughs, “but you just keep getting redder and redder.”

“You ought to know, you turn a healthy shade of pink every time anyone mentions Fleur and the way she says ‘Oh, Beel,’” Tonks said mimicking the way Fleur said Bill’s name, and without really meaning to she scrunched up her face and morphed into an exact replica of Bill’s girlfriend.

Sirius broke into a string of barking laughter and Bill’s face turned hot with anger.

“Cut it out,” he said.

“Vat is zee matter, my leetle croissant? Do not you loooove me anymore?”

“I said cut it out! It’s creepy!”

Bill shoved away from the table and stood, his face very red, but out of rage, not embarrassment.

Feeling a sudden pang of guilt, Tonks allowed the visage of Fluer Delacour to fade away. She did not apologize, even though she knew that she had been out of line to turn on him that way. Sirius had been the one to tease her, Bill had only commented on the blush that she had been unable to prevent, he had done nothing to provoke a jibe. Still, though she knew these things to be true, she could not bring herself to say that she was sorry, because she was not sorry. She had drawn the attention away from a subject that hurt her to talk about and she would not feel regret for instinctual self-preservation.

Hurt. She didn’t understand where that was coming from. Why had she zeroed in on that particular feeling? It should have been confusion or awkwardness or silliness or all at the same time, but crushes were not supposed to hurt.

Without a word to either Bill or Sirius (who was wiping tears of glee from his eyes), Tonks rose and stepped into the fire. The last thing she heard before spinning away amongst the jewel colored flames was Sirius saying, “A Black no question, that one. Reminds me of her mother.”

Why doesn’t that comfort me?

When she stepped into her living room, Tonks found Remus fast asleep on the couch. His long thin frame was curled under a heavy wool blanket, though not the one that he had turned into the infamous pants, and his hands were tucked under his pillow. He must have changed into his nightclothes because the robes he had been wearing were in a neatly folded pile on the table next to the couch, along with his balled-up socks and shoes. She smiled at how meticulous and organized he was as she tiptoed by, so as not to disturb him.

Hurt. But why did it hurt?

Tonks had lain awake that night for a very long time, unable to sleep, for thinking. She could not get the mysterious emotions that she was feeling out of her head. But by morning she had had an epiphany. She had pinpointed the source of her hurt.

The reason that thinking of Remus and looking at him and talking with him hurt so much was because she knew; deep down, that she could not have him. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted him, but the reality was that he was never going to be hers. It was a hard pill to take; to become aware that the person you maybe wanted to be with was off limits, not because of another woman or a distance barrier, but because of something no one had any control over, because he had been cheated out of a normal life by a madman.

When the sun shone through her windows and marked the coming of morning, Tonks steeled herself. She had decided that she was going to simply ignore that fluttering in her stomach whenever he was too close, to completely drown her feelings under a sea of indifference. She had no idea how she was going to pull it off, but she was definitely going to try.

You’re lying to yourself, the irritating voice of her conscious said.

But what else was she supposed to do? Go up to a man, whom had shown no indication that he felt anything aside from camaraderie and friendship, and tell him that she had been trying to stave off a rather serious crush, and did he maybe want to go out for a drink, even though she had been trying her damndest to convince herself that she didn’t really want to like him, didn’t really want to kiss him, she really didn’t want to love him…

Whoa! Where did that come from?

She was just getting carried away with herself. There was no reason to take things that far.

Tonks shook her head to clear it and reminded her self that she was just getting worked up and that her brain was in overdrive. No need to worry, her feelings were no where near that serious.

With a final breath of resolve, Tonks descended the stairs and made for the fire with as little interference from Remus as possible.

You’re an idiot.

She sighed heavily.

You, shut up.

A/N: I don't really know how it happened but chapter 10 magically morphed into three parts! I know, three. Ridiculous. Sorry.

I know I'm a bit late again, but it is still Tuesday where I live so :p

Alright, enjoy the second part of chapter 10 and feel free to throw rotten veggies at me here. (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704&page=8) (Although I know you won't because they're still getting together and Tonks is playing Jessica Fletcher, but wait until the HBP one! You'll all hate me. :elaugh:. Sorry, I've been writing some of that one and they're not in a happy place. Okay, back to the business at hand).

Chapter 10
The Lies We Tell Our Selves


Work was starting to get monotonous, but it was the only thing she had at that point. The “brilliant” plan that she had concocted to keep Remus out of her head and emotionally as far away as possible had one major flaw; he was living on her couch. How was she supposed to ignore him if he was at her house every minute of every day? Had she been irritated by his presence, it would have been easier to deal with, but it was just the opposite, she was instantly happy when he was around, which only made it worse. But she was a stronger woman than that and when she set her mind to something, she accomplished it. So, she would just have to be tougher than her emotions, right?

Easier said than done.

She would have welcomed any sort of distraction, really, a riot, a mugging, a robbery…or twelve. It didn’t really matter what the nature of the crime was, only that there was something to do, something other than pretending not to like Remus.

She strained to focus her attention and energy on what work there was. But the work that she did have was either a dead end or continually coming up fruitless. Sadly, she was fairly certain that she would never pin anything on Pyle. The business with Grumble and Malfoy was unnerving and irritating, but it was the only thing in over a month that had even remotely pointed toward an agenda other than sticking around to collect his galleons. McManus was ridiculously irritating. She had no leads, no clues, no suspicious persons (aside from the edgy girlfriend) and he still remained gone, without a trace of evidence to point her in the right direction.

Tonks had just decided to head home for the day, even though it was only one o’clock in the afternoon, and nurse her headache, which was now a throbbing pounding from analyzing her psyche, when an owl swooped in and dropped a small parchment on her desk.

She snatched it up as the owl headed back up the shoot and to the world outside.



Tonks,

Get your butt over to St. Mungo’s. Spell Damage Ward.
~Kingsley

P.S. Don’t fret, it’s no one you know


Sparing a second to grin at Kingsley’s knowledge of how her brain worked, Tonks grabbed all of her things and dashed for the elevator, catching a seething glare from Spectra Sherwood on the way.

She apparated right into the lobby of the wizard hospital, knocking over a table covered in old copies of Witch Weekly magazine.

“What is all that racket?” Said a familiar voice from the wall nearest her. “Oh, Nymphadora, hello.” Said the portrait of Dilys Derwint. “You don’t look injured, my dear.”

Tonks righted the table and haphazardly tossed the magazines back onto its surface.

“Hi Dilys, just visiting today.”

“Ah, well, have a nice visit. And say hello to Healer Bennett. She misses you, you know.”

Tonks waved farewell as she set off down the corridor at a jog headed toward the stairs. She bounded up the staircase, taking two steps at a time and skidded to a nearly disastrous stop on the landing.

Just inside the swinging doors to the Spell Damage ward, she found Kingsley talking casually with a healer in a lime green pair of scrubs. The healer was talking animatedly, if not impatiently, while Kingsley listened, his arms folded across his wide chest, his eyes squinted in concentration, taking it all in.

He glanced up and, upon seeing her, motioned for her to join them.

“Healer Fieldstone, this is my associate, Ms. Tonks. Tonks, Healer Fieldstone.”

Tonks nodded at the man and turned quickly to Kingsley.

“What’s this all about?”

“Listen.” Kingsley said, pointing to Fieldstone. “He’s briefing me now.”

“As I was saying,” the healer went on, “Ms. Dannon was brought in…”

“Polly Dannon?” Tonks said, her eyes wide in surprise. She hadn’t been expecting that.

“Yes,” said Fieldstone, irritably. “She came in at seven-hundred hours this morning. She presented with red sores of the body and face, an increased body temperature, several broken bones, including her left femur, patella and three ribs, suggesting a beating in addition to the magical afflictions.” He paused for a breath before continuing. “We worked to reverse what we could, but she died at nine-hundred hours and forty-eight minutes. There was simply too much damage to her body.”

“Have you any idea what caused the boils?” Kingsley asked.

“That’s just it,” he said, “the boils are characteristic of a spell or a hex, but the fever is odd. Fevers are generally only associated with potions and the two rarely present together, generally one will counteract the other. So we have conflicting symptoms. Not to mention the Muggle-type beating to her body.”

“And when will you know which it was that caused her death?” Tonks wanted to know, as she scribbled in her notebook, which she had taken from her bag a moment before.

Fieldstone looked at her, clearly annoyed by her question, “A few days.”

“Did she say anything?” Tonks asked, ignoring his attitude.

“No, nothing.”

“Nothing at all?”

Fieldstone gave her a look suggesting that he thought her very dense and repeated his answer of before.

“May we have her personal affects?” Tonks said, not bothering to give it a polite tone.

“The nurses have them at the desk, there,” he pointed to a tall white desk down the corridor.

“Who brought her in?” Kingsley interjected.

“No one. She was found outside the building by a nurse coming for her shift.”

“Can you give me the nurse’s name, please?” Tonks asked.

Looking quite affronted, the healer said, “Marjorum Abatsis.”

Annoyed at his attitude, Tonks wiped away all pretence and simply said, “And will you be summoning her for us or are you simply going to stare down your nose at me and give me a hard time?”

“Stay here,” was all he said before turning on his heal and stalking off down the hall.

Kingsley shot her an impatient look, but she shrugged and said, “What? He’s a jerk.”

The imposing Auror sighed and started to walk toward the nurse’s desk. “I never get to be the bad Auror,” he mock pouted.

“That’s because you’re just too likeable.” She called as he approached the desk.

Tonks watched as a tall nurse handed Kingsley a white paper sack and gave him a sad, but friendly smile.

The Aurors settled on a long bench in the corridor and spread out the contents of the bag between them.

The only things on Dannon’s person when she was admitted to the hospital were a small leather sack containing three galleons, a receipt for lunch at The Three Broomsticks, an empty phial with no stopper, and a scrap of parchment with 7:45 written on it.

“What happens at seven-forty-five?” Queried Kingsley. “And where?”

“And where’s her wand?” Tonks said, tapping her pen against her leg thoughtfully.

Tonks and Kingsley looked at each other, and then back at the objects lying on the bench in front of them. It was a strange array of things to have. The receipt from the Broomsticks was understandable as Dannon had been staying in Hogsmeade, but the absence of her wand and her inexplicable appearance outside of the hospital clearly indicated that her death had been no accident.

They sat in contemplation for several minutes, the only sound being the click of Tonks’s pen as she absentmindedly played with it.

“When did you get so fidgety?” Kingsley said, as he reached out and held her pen still.

“Huh? Oh…er…sorry.”

Fieldstone returned with a small bird-boned witch with shiny black hair and a large clipboard.

“This is Marjorum Abatsis.”

The witch smiled.

“I’m Kingsley Shacklebolt and this is my associate Nymphadora Tonks.”

“You want to know about the woman I happened across.”

“That’s right,” Kingsley said, taking her arm and gingerly leading her to the bench where he and Tonks had been sitting moments before.

He really was too likeable. His deep calming voice always put people at ease. Tonks however, tended to put people on edge, what with her multi-color hair and get-to-the-point attitude, she was not always received in a polite or welcoming manner.

“I was walking to work,” the woman began, “I always walk, I only live one block over you see, and I noticed a pile of clothes on the ground just outside the main entrance. I thought it must be one of those Muggles that sometimes sleep in the alley or on the bench down the block, but as I walked closer I could see that she was wearing wizard’s robes. So, I checked her for a pulse and noticed all of the sores and immediately ran inside for help. The healers came and took her inside.”

“Was she awake?” Kingsley asked.

“No. She did mumble something in her sleep, sounded like she was saying ‘my boy.’”

“But nothing else?” asked Tonks.

“No.”

Tonks tried again with a new question. “Was there anyone around who looked suspicious or like they were watching you?”

“No. It was really as simple as what I told you.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Kingsley smiled at her. “We’ll owl you if we need any more assistance.”

They waited until they were outside the hospital before speaking again.

“’My boy,’ huh?” Kingsley said. “She didn’t have any kids did she?”

“No. It must mean McManus. Do you think he did that to her?”

“Possible. Why, though?”

“No idea.” Tonks said on a sigh. “What about her family?”

“I’ve already sent someone to inform them.”

Even with her need for something to do to take her mind off of her own woes, murders weren’t exactly great distractions. Mostly, they were just depressing.

Having apparated back to the Ministry, Tonks and Kingsley converged in his cubicle. Luckily, there were very few people about the office. With the minister refusing to recognize the return of Voldemort, most Auror work had stalled. They couldn’t very well be actively searching for dark wizards if they weren’t officially a threat. Even the fairly routine things like, Goblin demonstrations, robberies, riots, and suspicious deaths were being handed off to other departments, so as not to make it appear that the ministry suspected dark magic. All of this political nonsense left the Aurors with almost nothing to do, so many had taken to going home early. Of course, having them gone was a great advantage to Kingsley and Tonks, for they were much less likely to be over heard or bothered.

Once they were comfortably settled in Kingsley’s cubicle, Tonks cast a discrete silencing charm so that no one could hear them.

“Tonks,” the older Auror began, “keep that case on Polly Dannon under wraps. I won’t let them take it from you because it concerns your case on McManus, but don’t go flaunting it either.”

“Of course not.”

“With any luck it’ll go unnoticed, but we can’t be too careful.”

Tonks nodded her agreement. “And I have a sinking feeling that when I find the people who took McManus, I’ll find the people who killed Dannon.”

You too?” Kingsley asked somberly.



~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Have I told you that I heart Remus? Tell me who you heart. (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704&page=8)

A/N: Hi! I know this is normally updated on Tuesdays, but I am going to have a crazy week at work and I don't think I'll have a chance to do the update on the regularly scheduled day. So I prepared it early. See, I can be nice.

Come to the place that is arguably more fun than Disneyland. (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704&page=8)

Chapter 10
The Lies We Tell Our Selves, Part 3

Number twelve, Grimmauld Place was quiet, more quiet than usual, save for the few people in the kitchen, talking in hushed tones, as the bottle of Firewhiskey they had been sharing tended to raise the voice level one too many decibels and there was no guarantee that they were not overheard. Not that it really mattered. The conversation was more friendly than business-like, but even so, in a house currently containing the Weasley twins, Ron and Harry, one could no be too careful; they had a knack for knowing things they shouldn’t.

“So,” Sirius leveled an all too common glassy-eyed stare on her, “is my friend Remus acceptable company? Or do I need to teach him some manners, does - ?”

“You’re idea of manners rarely reflect the accepted definition of the word,” Remus chimed in.

“You see there, interrupting a person when they are speaking is very rude, Remus.”

Remus simply looked on his friend and maintained a steady silence.

“Quite acceptable company, Sirius, thank you for your mock concern.”

Sirius shot a hand to his heart, “Mock concern? This is how little you think of me? I am only looking out for your best interest. My friend here is notorious for being unable to keep his hands to himself.”

Tonks felt the blush creep up her cheeks and fought to hide it, but there was nothing for it. She tried to hide her face behind her glass, but didn’t really think that it was doing much good. She dared not look at Remus, what if he caught her looking at him with the mother of all blushes plastered across her face? Surely he’d figure her out, he was no idiot and she was beginning to be a sodding mess of nerves and incontrollable reactions whenever he was around. She really needed to get control of herself.

Sirius’s snide remarks didn’t help either, and that last one was a baited , snide remark. He wanted her to ask him to elaborate on Remus’s wandering hands, but she was not going to do it. She didn’t care what Sirius had to say about Remus’s hands.

Wandering hands…. Her mind drifted for a second. Oh, pull yourself together, woman!

“If anyone has a problem controlling his hands or other body parts it is most definitely you.” Remus grinned at Sirius.

“I see how it is. What are you two, the Anti-Sirius League?”

“Yes,” Tonks said. “We’ve got badges and everything.”

Remus nodded in Tonks’s direction and said, “The t-shirts are on backorder.”

She gasped in artificial shock. “You didn’t tell me that!”

Nodding sadly, Remus sighed, “Yes, it’s terrible.”

“Maybe we can borrow some from spew.”

“That’s not a bad idea.”

Sirius looked from his friend to his cousin, a shrewd expression on his face and said, “What exactly have you two been doing to pass the time over at Tonks’s house?”

Quickly looking away from Remus, she drank a deep gulp of the Firewhiskey.

But Remus answered immediately, without a moment’s hesitation or any awkward silence.

“Planning your downfall, we already told you.”

“Yes, well, sometimes I can be rather thick,” Sirius said, clearly no longer interested in being witty or amusing. Tonks was fairly certain she could see the wheels turning in his head as he looked at her.

Suddenly feeling as though the room was far too warm and far too small, Tonks abruptly stood up, sending the chair she was sitting in flying backwards.

“I have to go to the lady’s room,” she said with absolutely no grace.

She turned quickly and made a beeline for the door. In the hallway, she stopped, took a deep breath of cold stale air and leaned back against the wall. She rubbed her face with her palms to counteract the clammy feeling that her skin was starting to take on. She was fighting a loosing battle and somewhere inside she knew it; on some level she always knew it. And now her worst fears were coming true; people were starting to notice that things weren’t all friendly and plutonic. Well, Sirius was noticing, which wasn’t the same as people, one person more like, but Sirius was exceptionally shrewd and it just figured that he would be the one to pick up on it; the very last person that she wanted to notice her inability to act like a normal person with Remus in the room. It didn’t help that he was also the one with the least self-restraint and the most insensitive.

Brilliant.

Stepping away from the wall, Tonks stopped when she heard Sirius’s voice from inside the kitchen.

“Moony,” he said suspiciously, in a tone frighteningly like her mum used to do when she caught Tonks in a lie; that expectant tone, the one that basically says, Spill it before I turn you into a water buffalo.

“Yes,” she heard Remus’s even voice say.

“Is there anything you would like to share with your old friend?” Asked Sirius.

“There is something they call discretion. It’s all the rage.”

“Apparently, I don’t have enough and you have too much.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Remus asked, his tone defensive.

“You’re going to blow it,” said Sirius.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Remus answered a little too quickly.

“Don’t I?”

Tonks jumped as an unexpected clang rang out from behind her. For a moment she stood stalk still waiting for either Sirius’s mother to burst into wails or the person behind her to make another move. When neither happened, she spun around to see, to her slight amusement, that Fred and George’s Extendable Ears had accidentally knocked into a gas lamp and were being quickly pulled up to the landing above.

With a CRACK, Tonks Apparated up to the landing, right behind Fred and George who were just stuffing the Ears into their pockets. She pulled her wand out and waited for them to turn around, but they just sat there, frozen.

“I know you heard me Apparate. Come on, let’s have it.”

The twins shared mischievous grins and turned around to face her. In unison, which is how they usually did everything, the boys dug the long fleshy strings from inside their pockets and placed them in Tonks’s waiting palm.

“Now, what did you hear?”

The boys looked at each other, then at Tonks, but said nothing. They were actually doing a fair job of looking clueless and ashamed. She wasn’t buying it for a minute, but she did note the very good show they were making of it.

“Come on, what did you hear?”

“Did Sirius call Remus, Moony?” asked Fred, a sparkle in his eye and a smile playing at his lips.

“No, I believe he called him moody,” she lied.

Tonks knew, of course, that Remus was nicknamed Moony by his friends and that they all had nicknames of similar natures, but she didn’t see why it was of interest to the twins; what difference did it make to them what Remus’s nickname was? It was the fact that they had shown an interest that concerned her. Anything that makes the twins perk up and take notice was probably either going to explode or highly toxic or punishable by death.

“Moody,” George repeated. “Right,” he said disbelievingly.

“Off, shoo, varmints!” She said as they headed back to their room, whispering conspiratorially. “And no more Extendable Ears tonight!”

Once the twins had been effectively run off, and she waited several minutes on the landing to be sure they remained in their room, Tonks made her very confused way back to the kitchen. She pushed open the door to see Sirius and Remus leaning across the table talking in hushed tones.

They looked up as she made a show of walking in, and they sat up straight, one smiling and the other refusing to meet her eyes. Since Sirius appeared to be in such a happy mood, she chose to talk to him.

“I just had a chat with Fred and George and they were trying to hear inside the kitchen with these,” she pulled the fleshy strings from her pocket, “again.”

“One really has to admire their persistence.” Sirius’s grin widened. “I wonder if they pursue dates like that?”

“You’re wearing my nerves very thin, Sirius.” Remus said through clenched teeth.

“Anyway,” Tonks said, ignoring them and trying very hard not to wonder what they were talking about, “they were very interested in why you called Remus, Moony, and when they’re interested in something it is rarely good for anyone but them.”

“I…,” but Sirius’s words were cut off by the entrance of Fred, who was grinning madly.

“Where’s your evil twin?” Sirius asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Gone to bed,” Fred answered. “I just came down for a glass of warm milk.”

“Bollocks!” Tonks said. “George is probably out in the hall listening.”

Fred ignored her and went about making a show if preparing a glass of warm milk, as though to prove that he had really wanted some. He must have thought himself sneaky because after several minutes of milk warming and drinking he started up what was clearly intended to be a “casual” conversation.

“Sirius, your animagus form is a dog, right?”

The shrewd look was back. “You know it is, Fred.”

“And Pettigrew was a rat, yes?”

“Where is this conversation going?” Remus asked.

“They have bald tails, rats. Worm-like, don’t you think? And dogs, they have pads on their feet.” Fred had crossed to the table and planted both palms on the tabletop and leaned a little forward. He appeared to be staring Sirius and Remus down, or attempting to anyway, as the two men were not intimidated in the least and only stared back in varying degrees of delight and dread.

Sirius had an amused, even proud look of understanding on his face, while Remus was looking as though he really did not enjoy where the conversation was going. Tonks was highly confused, having apparently, missed some vital piece of information that everyone else in the room had.

“I do believe that Fred, here, has run across some of our old school supplies, Moony.”

“You know, Padfoot, I shudder to think you are right.” Remus answered reluctantly.

The look on Fred’s face was one of pure glee and admiration.

“George! It’s them. George!”

Almost immediately, George rushed into the room and landed next to his brother, an identical expression plastered across his face.

“Wow.”

“I must have missed something.” Tonks was attempting to read Sirius’s expression, but he appeared to be very pleased, if not ecstatic and it was hard to glean any information from his haughty grin.

Chancing a glance at Remus, she found him looking at her, a tired expression coating his face. He sighed and rolled his eyes at her. She grinned and he returned it, before turning to the twins.

“So, it was you who nicked the map from Filch and gave it to Harry.”

The boys nodded, apparently in too much awe to speak.

“I still don’t understand what you’re going on about.”

It was George who found his voice and launched into an epic length explanation.

“They’re the Marauders.” It was said in an amazed tone worthy of the Pope. “They’re our heroes; the secret to our success. They made a map that shows you all, all, of Hogwarts; all of the rooms, the passages in and out, the people who are in it, what they are doing…it’s amazing. They also left behind things, things they hid for later generations. They were, what was it they called it?”

“Purveyors of Magical Aid’s To Mischief Makers.” Supplied Sirius happily.

“Yeah and we found some of the stuff they…er…you left behind. Like the outline for how to turn everything in the Slytherin common room to Gryffindor and the spell to make all of the tables in the great hall act like cattle. Oh, and they’re the reason we know how to get into the kitchens. They…er...you put us to shame. Not to mention the whole animagus business.”

“That Slytherin to Gryffindor one is the brainchild of Remus, here. Very proud of that one.”

“Took nearly as long as the map did.” He smiled now, and when he caught Tonks’s eye, he winked at her.

Oddly, she didn’t blush at the wink, but only smiled. She was being shown an entirely different side to Remus Lupin and she was fascinated by it. Could it be that the quiet, sweet, reserved man that she thought she knew had a past rooted in disobedience and mischief? To be a founding member of a group that named themselves the Marauders, he’d have had to, wouldn’t he?

Damn you, you just got more interesting.

“If you’re Moony, for obvious reasons, he’s Padfoot because he turns into a dog, the slimy git is Wormtail because he’s a rat, that must mean Harry’s dad was Prongs, right?” George asked.

“Right,” Remus answered, “James was Prongs because he turned into a stag.”

“Oh, like Harry’s Patronus.” Fred said.

“Yes, like Harry’s Patronus.”

The room had taken a rather sullen feeling at the mention of James and of Harry’s Patronus. There were a few seconds of silence when it was painfully clear that Sirius was drifting away into one of his depressed states as so often happened. The twins looked lost for words while Sirius simply looked lost.

Yes, you’ll have to talk with Remus about Sirius, whether you plan to avoid the man or not. But for now, lift the mood, will you?

“So,” she said, making sure to add brightness to her voice, “tell me about this map.”

The twins jumped at the opportunity and began gushing about the genius of the map. It wasn’t long before Sirius had perked up and joined in. There’s nothing like an ego boost to lift the spirits of Sirius Black.

Remus mouthed a silent “thank you” before joining into the conversation, which made her smile a little too broadly, but all of a sudden she didn’t care.

As she listened to them explain the process of writing the map and the challenges and all of the funny little anecdotes about their near misses and adventures, Tonks was hit by something, something she had not considered. There she was, a young woman of education and training; a prestigious job; made good galleons; had her life in order and her life in The Order; knew right from wrong; and was about to embark on a life path right to the center of a war zone, and she was denying herself the truth. She was making up excuses and placing the blame and finding ways to ignore the fact that she was dangerously close to falling in love with a wonderful man.

She had tried to blame his status as a Werewolf and to blame the beast that bit him, but the truth was, there was no reason that he couldn’t have a relationship with her. Twelve, maybe thirteen, days out of the year was nothing compared to the one-hundred-fifty year lifespan of wizards. And judging from the overheard conversation between he and Sirius, he didn’t appear to be adverse to the idea.

It all seemed so stupid. Now was the time for living, she needed to keep that in sight, to remember that she wasn’t so arrogant to think that she and all that she loved would survive the coming war to live and love another day.

With everything new that she learned about Remus she discovered a new appreciation for him, a new respect for the way he chose to live his life, despite the vile cards that he had been dealt and it made her ashamed that she had ever tried to squash her feelings. Would she ever be so lucky to meet a man half as noble, half as loyal, with half as much integrity or honesty? She doubted it.

And the final bits of denial and resolve that she had been so desperately clinging to floated away, leaving behind a whole new level of possibilities.



Uh oh....wonder where this is going. (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704&page=8) ;)

A/N: I know this is short, but I think it's worth it. Tee hee tee hee. (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704&page=8)

Chapter 11
Into a Corner, Part 1


The day finally came when Remus was free of welts and gashes and bruises and ready to return to the mixed company of Grimmauld Place. The twins had been sworn to secrecy about Remus’s injuries and seemed all too happy to keep a secret of one of the Marauders. They weren’t told how he had received the wounds, but they didn’t seem to care, being in the company of Moony and Padfoot. Tonks, however, had much more confused feelings concerning Mr. Moony.

Tonks was conflicted on the idea of him leaving her couch. She had managed to come to terms with her emotions, but actually acting on them was a different story all together. She had yet to even so much as hint at anything beyond friend and valued member of the Order to Remus. At this rate, and especially with him leaving, she feared she never would.

It so happened that Remus’s day of departure also fell on the day before the start of term at Hogwarts.

Late in the morning an owl had arrived from Molly informing them that Ron had been made a prefect and that they were to come over for dinner to celebrate and give the kids a good send off.

“No doubt everyone the Weasley’s know got a similar letter.” Tonks held up the scrap of parchment and smiled. “Good for Ron.”

“Yes,” Remus had agreed. But there was a slight shadow playing on his features and she was fairly certain she knew why.

“You’re wondering why Dumbledore didn’t make Harry a prefect.”

Remus looked up at her, his brow furrowed a bit. “Not exactly. I have a notion as to that.”

“Does it involve not drawing unnecessary attention to the famous Harry Potter and making his life more difficult than it already is by having to police the students who are so volatile when it come to Harry as it is?” She said in a rush.

Remus smiled at her. “How is it that you always know what I’m thinking?”

The silence that followed was deafening. They simply stared at one another across the living room, both slowly turning pink and unable to say anything for fear of saying the wrong thing.

Remus looked as though he had just let the secret combination to the main vault at Gringott’s slip and, in place of incriminating himself any further, he continued his line of thoughts on Harry.

“It’s just that I fear Harry won’t understand. He’s already so on edge all the time and I wonder if this will just add to his negative view of his treatment at the hands of adults.”

“Probably, for a bit, but I suspect that once he is back at Hogwarts and in classes, OWL year as it is, he will be happy not to have the extra burden.”

“Yes, you are probably right. Well, I had better gather my things.” Remus said before another awkward silence could fall between them.

It did not take long for him to round up the few possessions that he had brought to her house. He was a man of few belongings. But the entire time that he was loading things into his bag, Tonks was pretending not to act nervous or to fidget. She wasn’t really sure what to do now. It felt almost as though allowing him to simply pack up and go was leaving something unfinished, like she was missing an opportunity.

Oh, sod it!

She was falling for Remus Lupin and it was about time she admitted it.

She watched as he deposited the last of his things in his rucksack and turned to face her.

“So you’ll be at number twelve for dinner, then?” he said quite awkwardly.

She smiled at him and nodded. “With bells on.”

“Good. Well, I’ll be off.” He picked up his sack and walked to the fire.

With a sudden burst of daring, she quickly closed the gap between them so that when he had gathered some floo powder and stepped up to the fireplace she was right behind him.

“Remus.”

He turned quickly, clearly not expecting her to be so close behind him. His eyes fell on her and there was a moment when she doubted herself and nearly drew away, but she would not be a coward, she had to see, had to try.

“Thanks for keeping me company,” she said.

And without another breath she rose up on her toes and gently pressed a kiss against his lips. It was sweet and tentative, but there was something just under the surface that she was certain he had felt; and it was complex and varied and it made her blood boil. She heard his rucksack drop to the floor and his arm wrapped around her waist. Tonks tilted her head slightly; it was all the invitation he needed and he deepened the kiss, her mind went blank and her skin prickled. She felt herself move closer to him and he tightened his grip on her for a brief moment before he pulled away.

Remus looked at her for a long moment, something strange passing in his eyes, before saying very quickly, “Thanks for the use of your couch, see you tonight.”

And he was gone.

“What did you do?” She asked her self. “Brilliant, Nymphadora, bloody brilliant.”

Frustrated, she beat at her forehead with the heel of her hand a few times. It didn’t help, not that she had expected it to. What had gone wrong? He wasn’t supposed to run away. She was sure that he had fancied her, didn’t he? Why would he have kissed her back like that if he didn’t fancy her?

Caught up in the moment? He is a man after all.

Another smack to the forehead.

Hey, subconscious, you are not helping.

“Nymphadora.”

Caught completely off guard by the sound of her mother’s voice from immediately below her, Tonks jumped back from the fireplace, tripped over the coffee table behind her and landed with a soft pfft on the couch.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on the terminally clumsy,” she said to her mother’s head, which was sitting on her grate.

There was a brief flash of green firelight and Andromeda climbed out of the fireplace, giving her daughter a quizzical look.

“What were you doing with your head in your hands in front of the fire?”

“Meditating.”

Ignoring her daughter’s cheek, Andromeda scanned the room and said, “I came to check on Remus. Is he here?”

“No, he’s gone back to headquarters.” There was something glum in Tonks’s tone that she wished she had hidden better because her mother’s gaze quickly returned to her face.

“Is everything alright? Is Remus okay?”

Tonks sighed. “Yes, fine, wonderful actually.”

A curious expression passed over her mother’s face and she crossed to the couch to sit next to Tonks.

“Darling, are you alright?”

“Stupid Blacks and their stupid keenness for other people’s business.” Tonks muttered under her breath.

If her mother had heard she made no indication of it, instead she smiled and put her arm around Tonks’s shoulders and sat, just sat. She didn’t say anything or press her for information or try to hand out motherly knowledge. No, Andromeda was never the type to meddle (not usually anyway), she would happily offer advice or wisdom if asked, but she insisted that her daughter seek her assistance before prying into her personal affairs.

So, they sat, motionless for several minutes before Tonks finally said, “I have to be off, Mum.”

Andromeda smiled and said, “I would like you to invite Remus for Christmas Eve brunch.”

The world’s rotation came to a grinding halt and Tonks whipped her head around to settle a very shocked look on her mother’s face. This had to be a joke. There were several seconds when, heart beating in her chest and breath held, that Tonks simply stared at her mum. Slowly the earth’s rotation picked back up and the rest of the world came back into focus.

“No. I…er…he’s staying with Sirius.”

“Surely he can get away for a few hours the day before Christmas.”

“Can’t. Order business.”

“Nonsense,” Andromeda said, standing and returning to the fireplace. “If he can’t make it, I shall know you didn’t ask, and invite him myself.”

The emerald green flames whisked her away and there was no more negotiating to be done on the matter. As was so often the case, Tonks’s mother had bested her, again.

“Won’t meddle, but clearly not above sabotage !” She yelled at the empty hearth.


*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Share the love here (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704&page=8)

A/N: Okay, so in the spirit of...uh...summer weather, yeah, summer weather is a good reason, I bring you the last half of Chapter 11, Into a Corner. It's longer than the last post...have fun! [/b]

Feedback! (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704&page=8)

Determined to have a very nice time at the party for Ron and Hermione, Tonks made every effort not to interact with Remus. Not that she didn’t want to, the opposite was more true; she wanted very much to just apologize for kissing him like that, and ask if they could just go back to being friends. Judging by his equal avoidance of her, he obviously didn’t view her in a romantic light and she hated that she had acted so rashly, thereby possibly damaging their friendship.

Luckily, her prediction that Molly had sent owls to everyone they knew about Ron’s academic success had been very nearly true, most of the Order, anyway. Avoiding Remus in that tangle of people had turned out to be quite easy.

In an effort to bring up her mood and look as far different from that stupid woman who had randomly snogged her houseguest, Tonks had changed her hair to a style drastically different than normal: long and tomato-red. Oddly enough, it did not help; in fact it made her feel like she was backed into a corner; it made her feel more like family, like she was surrounded by suffocating family. She could have easily passed for a Weasley and Molly’s constant mothering would make most people feel like family, but that was neither here nor there, she was enjoying the positive news for Ron and Hermione, not dwelling on her failed attempt at a love life.

“Well, I think a toast is in order,” Arthur said. “To Ron and Hermione, the new Gryffindor prefects!”

Everyone applauded and drank to them. The two grinned happily at the praise and people began to move toward the food-laden table. Tonks waited a few moments for most of the crowd to clear before moving behind Harry. He looked miserable and she wanted to lighten his mood if possible. She was kind of hoping that Remus and Sirius would move along to the food, but they were planted at Harry’s side, so Tonks swallowed her pride and went ahead anyway.

“I was never a prefect myself,” she said, brightly. “My head of house said I lacked certain necessary qualities.”

Ginny looked around as she filled her plate and said, “Like what?”

“The ability to behave myself.”

Ginny laughed, which made Tonks a bit happier and managed to distract her from Remus who was now right behind her in line at the table.

“What about you, Sirius?” Ginny asked.

Sirius laughed and said, “No one would have made me a prefect, I spent too much time in detention with James. Lupin was the good boy, he got the badge.”

“I think Dumbledore might have hoped that I would be able to exorcize some control over my best friends,” Remus said. “I scarcely need say that I failed dismally.”

This seemed to lift Harry’s mood quite a bit and they all spent the better part of dinner chatting happily, though Tonks had still strictly avoided Remus’s eyes and not spoken directly to him. But she had Ginny to talk with and that was distraction enough, she was very fond of the youngest Weasley and they got on very well, which helped Tonks to forget, at least for the time being, why she was avoiding the tall handsome werewolf at the kitchen table.

Things were going along so well, in fact, that she didn’t even notice when Remus and Sirius abruptly left the kitchen with Mad-Eye hot on their heels. She did, however, notice the grim expressions on all three faces when they returned to the kitchen. She didn’t know how long they had been absent or what had happened, but it struck her as a bad sign that Sirius went directly for the pantry and grabbed a large bottle of firewhiskey. He stood just inside the door to the pantry and drank several long gulps right from the bottle.

Tonks instinctively looked to Remus for an explanation for Sirius’s behavior, but he was not looking her direction.

“Would you look at the time!” Arthur said, standing suddenly. “Okay, you kids, off to bed. You have a big day tomorrow.”

There were groans and protests, but they all shuffled off to their bedrooms, leaving the remaining partygoers. Only Tonks, Remus, Sirius, Mad-Eye and Mundungus remained, but Mundungus was out cold on the floor in the corner, so Tonks didn’t really consider him a part of the party.

Once Arthur and the kids were well out of earshot (and Sirius had finished half the bottle) Tonks said, “Okay, what happened?”

“Who said anything happened?” Sirius mumbled into his bottle.

“Right, because I’m a complete idiot,” she snapped. “What happened?”

“Molly had a hard time of getting rid of a Boggart.” Mad-Eye said. “But keep it to yourself, she’s a bit embarrassed.”

“A Boggart? Why would Molly’s encounter with the Boggart cause Sirius to drown himself in firewhiskey?”

“It was Harry.” Sirius said, lifting his head to look at her. “It was dead Harry.”

Tonks’s heart sank at the look on her cousin’s face. His eyelids were already starting to droop from the alcohol and the despair at having seen the image of Harry dead. He was the walking embodiment of pain, and had been for some time. Sadly, that moment was when Tonks realized just how miserable and broken Sirius was. It made her heart ache for him, but she didn’t have the slightest inkling how to fix it. So, she turned her thoughts to what she did know how to do, investigate.

It would make sense that Molly’s boggart would turn into the body of a dead loved one, family was her life, after all and she did love Harry very much, but why just Harry? What about her blood family? Shouldn’t their deaths be her worst fear, even above Harry’s?

“Actually, it was all of them dead,” said Remus as though he had read her thoughts. “The kids, Arthur, Harry, all of them.”

“Right,” she said, nodding, not knowing what else to say.

“You’ll need to be here at nine tomorrow for your final instructions for the trip to Kings Cross.” Mad-Eye stated suddenly, knocking them out of their thoughts.

“Okay,” Tonks said, still watching Sirius.

“You remember the disguise we discussed?”

“Yes, Mad-Eye.” Tonks said irritably. She really didn’t need his patronizing just then and it annoyed her that he was redirecting the focus of the room by pestering her about things that he knew full well did not need to be discussed again.

“Then everyone is prepared. Good.”

“I’m prepared. I’m to, what was I doing again? Oh, right, stay here,” Sirius said bitterly before devouring the smoking liquid again.

“Nine tomorrow,” said the gruff old Auror, as he turned to the door and limped out.

“I’ll walk you out. Then I’m to bed. Good night,” Remus said without looking at either Sirius or Tonks and following Mad-Eye out.

The cousins sat in silence for several minutes before Sirius finally spoke.

“I think I’ll go to the train station anyway.”

“Sirius, that’s a terrible idea.”

He sighed and pushed the bottle away. “I know, but I just can’t do it anymore. I can’t stay here like this one more minute, Nym.”

It was the use of her old nickname that struck her. The only people to call her that had been Sirius and occasionally her father, and it managed to further reinforce to her that this damaged and distraught man was the same arrogant, happy, talented one from so many years ago. Her heart managed to break a little more as she sat there.

“Well, I won’t make it hard for you or tell Mad-Eye if you decide to go as Snuffles behind his back, but just this once!”

He managed a very sincere smile and said, “Thank you.”

“I mean it. I won’t cover for you again.” She scolded, in a very Molly-like voice.

He smiled at her and said, “Wouldn’t dream of asking.”

“Good.”

They sat for a few more minutes, during which Sirius silently wallowed in his own miserable thoughts. Tonks watched him and wished desperately that there was something she could do to ease his suffering even just a little. He had been so upbeat only a month ago, well, maybe not upbeat, but at least he had been trying to be positive, at least he had still had hope. But now he seemed as though all of that had left him.

Finally she couldn’t take it anymore and stood up from the table, “Anyway, I’ll just use your loo and be off. See you tomorrow.”

“Good night.”

Tonks left the kitchen with no intention of using the loo. There was someone else in the house that she needed to talk with, though she really didn’t want to. It would hurt her pride to do it, but Sirius was miserable and she would just have to put aside her personal issues for a moment.

When she reached Remus’s door, she paused a second and considered running screaming away, but realized how very juvenile that was and knocked very lightly so no one in neighboring rooms would hear.

“Tonks?”

She jumped, startled, at the voice and spun around to find Remus standing right behind her in the hall. Only losing her balance for a brief moment, she steadied herself on the doorframe and managed to stay standing.

“Don’t do that. Ever,” she said, one hand to her chest as she willed her heart rate to slow down.

Remus gave her a small smile and said, “Sorry,” before pushing past her and entering his room.

It was at this point that she noticed he was barefoot, his hair was wet and his shirt was unbuttoned. He had a towel in one hand and he was rubbing his hair dry with it. He looked…in a word, sexy.

The Gods really hate me, don’t they?

“What did you need?”

“I…er…wanted to talk about Sirius.”

He sighed and set the towel down in a large empty wicker basket.

He even does his laundry everyday?

“Why don’t you shut the door? We don’t really need this conversation overheard.”

Shut the door? To his room? Alone? Oh, for Merlin’s sake girl, you’re not twelve!

“Right,” she said more to her conscience than to Remus. She walked into the room from the doorway and clicked the door shut behind her.

“He’s not well.” Remus sat heavily on his bed and rubbed at his face.

“No, he’s not.”

“It’s just,” he paused as though trying to formulate the best way to vocalize his thoughts. “I know he’s miserable and I know why, but I can’t fix it. I can’t take away those years in Azkaban or the Ministry’s opinion of him or the guilt he feels. I don’t know how to make him feel better.”

“I know, me either, but we have got to do something. He’s wasting away down there, he’s killing himself.”

“Do what, though?”

Tonks took up a seat at the desk chair opposite where Remus was sitting on the edge of his bed.

“I don’t know.”

“Sorry couple of helpers, we are,” he said smiling.

“Remind me never to become a theriplast.”

Remus laughed louder than she was expecting for several moments before saying, “Do you mean a ‘therapist’?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

They sat in silence for several minutes, both trying to decide what to do for Sirius, neither one having any brilliant ideas and both very obviously avoiding eye contact.

“I think,” Tonks finally said, “that he is going to go to King’s Cross tomorrow despite what Dumbledore told him.”

“I wondered if he’d go. Somehow, not going would be very un-Sirius-like.” Remus managed a smile, but it was half-hearted and they both knew it.

“Well, I guess I had better go.”

Tonks stood and headed to the door, but before she could pull it open she heard her name from right behind her. Spinning around, for the second time in twenty minutes, she found Remus standing very close to her. Her heart rate shot up again, but this time it wasn’t from being startled.

“I thought I told you not to do that.”

“You started it,” he said, taking a step closer.

Tonks did not back up, instead she stood very still and let him come to her. It was his turn to make a move anyway. He stopped when they were only inches apart, his head lowered a bit toward her.

“Why did you kiss me?” He asked.

“I had you pegged as the subtle type. This is new.”

His head inclined a little more, putting them even closer together.

“Why did you do it?”

She didn’t even try to fight the blush of embarrassment that turned her face the color of a beet and decided to tell him the truth. She had given up any semblance of dignity back in front of her fireplace, what’s a little jab to her pride now?

“Because I like you, Remus. A lot. Are you trying to mortify me?”

He shook his head. “No.”

And then he kissed her. This time it wasn’t sweet or tentative; it was needy and demanding. His lips pressed hard against hers and she returned his force instantly. When his tongue sought hers she felt her head go light and she thought her legs might give out. His hands found her waist and pulled her flat against him. Without realizing it, she had managed to tangle one hand in his damp hair and the other was gripping a handful of the front of his shirt. The world tipped and spun and she found herself backed up in the corner behind the door. One of Remus’s hands left her waist and landed on the wall behind her head to keep them from falling over.

Knock, knock.

“Remus?”

The two pulled abruptly apart, caught completely off guard. They stood motionless, breaths coming raggedly and looking like they had just stepped out of a tornado.

“Remus? Are you awake?”

“Maybe if you ignore him, he’ll go away,” Tonks whispered, only half teasing.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, held it and then let it out, as though praying for patience.

“One second, Sirius,” he said.

He pushed off from the wall and took a step back from her, but did not look away. “You, stay there,” he said.

Remus turned, flattened his hair and opened the door all the way so that Tonks was squeezed into a tiny triangle of space behind it. She shifted so that the door wouldn’t hit her and found that she had a clear view of Sirius in the hall through the thin space between the doorframe and the actual door.

Sirius was just as droopy-eyed and miserable looking as he had been in the kitchen. He looked Remus up and down, a questioning look on his face.

“I’m going with Harry tomorrow.”

“I thought you might. As a Padfoot, obviously?”

“Yes,” Sirius said. Then he subtly stiffened, like a dog on alert. Almost imperceptibly, he discreetly sniffed the air. His eyes moved from side to side and he looked over Remus’s shoulder into the bedroom.

“Everything all right?” Remus asked.

“I’ll bet it is.” Sirius said, sarcastically. His eyes darted to the space between the door and the frame through which Tonks was watching him. Her eyes widened when his gaze locked on her and she had to put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

“Good night, Sirius,” said Remus, as he shut the door on his friend.

Just before the door closed, Tonks caught a glimpse of Sirius’s face break into a massive grin.

Remus turned his back to the door and reclined against it. He gave Tonks a reproachful glare as she fought not to laugh.

“He smelled your perfume.”

With her hand still covering her mouth, Tonks nodded, not trusting her self to speak.

“It’s not funny.”

Another nod.

“Really, it’s not. He’ll never let it alone.”

Another nod.

“You’ll see.”

Managing to regain her composure, Tonks moved the stifling hand and smiled. “Maybe I don’t care.”

“You will,” he said knowingly. “But now you have to go home. There are children asleep here.”

Tonks suddenly felt unexpectedly guilty for snogging Remus with the kids in neighboring rooms. She stepped away from her corner, but Remus was still standing against the door.

“If I’m leaving, you’ll have to move, you know.”

“Right,” he said awkwardly, having apparently lost his poise.

Remus moved to the side and opened the door for her, but shut it again quickly.

“So, where exactly does this leave us?” He asked a little apprehensively. “Because I understand if - ”

“Stop,” Tonks said, holding a hand up. “I don’t want to hear the standard werewolf dating disclaimer. I wouldn’t have kissed you if I hadn’t meant it.”

She waited for him to say something, but when he didn’t she continued.

“This is the part where you ask me out. You know, dinner, drinks, tour of haunted buildings, scuba diving with the giant quid, Madam Puddifoot’s -”

“I get it,” he interrupted. “How about lunch, tomorrow. We’ll be downtown anyway.”

“And just leave the group? Won’t they get suspicious?”

“We’ll tell them that we are off to Diagon Alley for some supplies or something.”

“Okay, you’re on, it’s a date.” Tonks smiled broadly before he opened the door and let her out.

How she managed to make it to the front door, through it, and out into the clear night without running into Sirius she had no idea, but once she made it to the curb and the house faded into oblivion behind her, Tonks smiled stupidly and giggled quietly to herself.

She had just snogged Remus Lupin and they were set to go on an official date tomorrow. Tonks didn’t stop grinning the entire way home.

*****************
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Okay, a day early! At least in my corner of the world it's still Monday. Here is your next installment.

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Chapter 12, Today’s Date



An elderly woman with short curly gray hair and a silly little hat trotted across the street, just as distant church bells chimed nine times. She knew this stretch of street quite well now that she had been coming and going so often as of late. No cars passed and no people crossed with her. There was very little traffic of any kind in that area, well, not Muggle traffic anyway. An owl soared over the space between numbers eleven and thirteen and vanished suddenly.

Tonks smiled and remembered the events of the night before as she made her way to the space where the owl had entered the hidden home of her cousin. She straigtened her odd hat and fluffed her curls to be sure that her disguise was perfect before coming under Mad-Eye's inscrutable eye.

Number twelve, Grimmauld Place was bustling madly, though most of the kids were still either asleep or packing in their rooms, the adults were doing a fine job of causing minor levels of chaos. Molly was haphazardly rounding up the group’s stray belongings and Mad-Eye was grumbling on to Arthur about how Sturgis Podmore hadn’t shown up in days and what a ridiculous lack of responsibility he was showing lately. Tonks smiled at them as she entered.

“Wotcher, Mad-Eye, Arthur.”

“Hi, Tonks,” said Arthur with a distracted wave of his hand as she walked past them. She descended the crusty old steps and entered the kitchen to find Ginny and Hermione seated at the table, eating breakfast.

“Wotcher, girls.”

Both teenagers looked up in mild shock and took in her new appearance.

“How is it?” she asked, spinning once to show off her dreadful old lady skirt and coat.

“Perfect,” said Hermione, smiling. “My grandmother has an outfit just like that except it’s blue instead of purple and it has little hummingbirds all over the coat.”

“Then I look just like an old Muggle?”

“Yes, it’s very good.”

“Thanks. Any of those waffles left?” Tonks asked having a seat opposite Ginny.

“Here,” said Ginny, pushing a plate with two fat, syrup covered waffles to her.

Tonks and the girls ate and laughed for a few minutes before Mad-Eye and Remus entered. The men stopped talking abruptly when they noticed the two younger girls.

Remus fixed his eyes on Tonks and frowned.

“Didn’t there used to be a maximum age for Order membership?” He said with a grin.

Ginny giggled, not looking at Tonks and Hermione smiled uncomfortably, as if she didn’t know whether or not to laugh or correct him.

“See there,” Tonks said to Ginny, “isn’t that sad; Remus thinks he funny.”

“Okay,” Mad-Eye interrupted before Remus could retaliate. “I’ll handle the luggage; Remus goes with Ginny and the twins; Arthur will take Ron and Hermione; Molly, Tonks and Sturgis are with Harry. We all walk, but we leave in shifts. First, will be Harry, Molly and Sturgis. They’ll meet you on the corner Tonks. I want you out there watching for any would-be attackers, alright?” he paused to let Tonks nod in understanding. “Hestia and Kingsley will be hidden about as well. Then Arthur and his group, then Lupin, you and yours. We will meet on platform 9 ¾ as quickly as possible. Everyone got that?”

They all nodded, even Hermione and Mad-Eye clomped back out of the room.

“He’s so pleasant. It’s a wonder he’s not married, really” Tonks grinned mischievously at them before popping up to her feet and making her way to the stairs. She skirted the pile of trunks that Mad-Eye was piling and sneaked past the twins who were discussing something troublesome in a corner and exited via the front door.

It was another hour before Molly and Harry finally rounded the corner to meet her. They were fifteen minutes behind schedule and accompanied by an enormous black dog that looked much more like a bear, which didn’t surprise her at all. At least Sirius seemed happy.

But they were minus Sturgis, which meant either he didn’t show up or Mad-Eye was really miffed and made him stay behind. She didn’t bother to ask, since they were so late as it was, Sturgis’s whereabouts wouldn’t have made a difference.

“Wotcher, Harry,” Tonks said as she winked at him. “Better hurry up, hadn’t we, Molly?”

“I know, I know, but Mad-Eye wanted to wait for Sturgis.”

Guess he didn’t show, then.

“If only Arthur could have gotten us cars from the Ministry again, but Fudge wouldn’t let him borrow so much as an empty ink bottle these days. How Muggles can stand traveling without magic…” Molly rambled, discontentedly before being cut-off by Sirius.

The giant black dog gave a series of barks and bounded after pigeons and ran in circles and chased his tail. Harry laughed and Tonks found herself doing the same.

She spent the twenty minutes that it took them to walk to the train station scanning the roads and alleys and parks that they passed for anything unusual. She found her Auror switch had tripped to the overdrive position, and she had no doubt as to why. Not only was she the one responsible for the safety of Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, but she was in the company of notorious mass murderer and escape artist, Sirius Black. Well, at least that’s the way the Ministry would see it were their cover to be blown and that’s enough to make a girl extra cautious. Nothing was going to go wrong on her watch.

They made it to the station with no problems and reached the barrier between platforms nine and ten, where each subtly leaned through the wall and emerged on the Hogwarts platform.

Tonks released a sigh of releaf, she was starting to feel overly paranoid like Mad-Eye, which was surely a sign of too much stress.

“Nice dog, Harry,” a boy with long dreadlocks hollered to Harry out of one of the train windows.

She chanced a glance at Sirius to find him wagging his tail frantically.

Mad-Eye showed up with the kids’ trunks and moments later Arthur, Ron and Hermione materialized through the barrier. They set to work loading all of the trunks and were nearly done when Remus, the twins and Ginny walked onto the platform.

“No trouble?” Mad-Eye asked.

“Nothing,” Remus answered.

“I’ll still be reporting Sturgis to Dumbledore,” Mad-Eye said. “That’s the second time he’s not turned up in a week. Getting as unreliable as Mundungus.”

Tonks was slightly amused by Mad-Eye’s threat. Certainly telling Dumbledore was the appropriate step, but Mad-Eye had no qualms about laying into someone for a wrongdoing or lack of responsibility and would surely let Sturgis know how angry he was about his failure to show up. Telling Dumbledore was a formality for Mad-Eye and everyone knew it. It was far from official, but it was silently understood that Mad-Eye was second in command and therefore within his scope of duties to chastise whoever deserved it.

Everyone said their goodbyes in a rush of well wishes and hugs and handshakes. All except Sirius of course, he reared up onto his back legs and planted both front paws on Harry’s shoulders. There was a very brief moment when they stood there, looking very awkward before Molly pushed Harry back, knocking Sirius down on all fours again.

“For heaven’s sake, act more like a dg, Sirius,” Molly hissed.

The whistle blew and the last of the kids ran for the train doors, making on just in time. Gears clanked and steam hissed as the giant engine rocked a bit, it’s rusty parts grinding and the weight shifting, before it slowly pulled away from the platform and started its journey north.

People waved and yelled from both the train and the platform, but one large canine jumped and hopped excitedly, chasing the locomotive until he could no longer keep up.



~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


It was far more tricky getting away from the group than Tonks had imagined. Their plan to stop off at Diagon Alley was met with very mixed results.

“What could you need? I was just there yesterday,” said a perplexed Molly.

“There are some bad rumors about Fortesque floating around, not to mention that there are no protective wards around any of it. Just Muggle repelling charms, but that won’t help against a dark wizard, will it? I’d steer clear, if I was you.” Mad-Eye rumbled.

“What stores where you planning on going to?” Arthur asked.

“Woof!” Sirius barked pointedly at Tonks and she patted the top of his head with considerably more force than necessary, which made him growl at her.

By the time they managed to shake everybody off, Tonks and Renus had a list of things to pick up for Arthur, instructions to look into protective wards for the street from Mad-Eye, and three long distance letters to send for Molly at the Public Owlry.

Finding a secluded alley only half a block from King’s Cross station, Tonks and Remus apparated to the street by The Leaky Cauldron. Together, they entered the funky old pub and crossed through to the tiny back alley where Remus tapped the appropriate brick to open the entrance to Diagon Alley.

There were witches and wizards everywhere when they stepped onto the street. Robed persons darted back and forth, baskets and sacks full of assorted supplies, their arms heavy from the weight of their new acquisitions, some towing children too young for Hogwarts along by the hand, others hurriedly completing their errands and heading home. Many families made the trip to London on the first of September to deliver their children to the Hogwarts Express, and they all descended upon the only major magical shopping area for hundreds of miles, in droves. The children couldn’t travel via apparition, so the families had to come by other means; the Knight bus, Muggle car, train, or other various and creative forms of transpertation, but it was the perfect opportunity to stock up on supplies and so they did. Unfortunately, these masses of people did nothing to make Tonks and Remus’s newly acquired errands any easier.

“We’ll never finish their shopping in this mess,” Tonks said, more than a little irritation audible in her voice.

“Yes we will,” Remus smiled and snatched the list out of her hand. Tearing it in two, he said, “You get your half and look into warding the place for Mad-Eye, I’ll get my half and go to the Owlry. Meet you right back here in one hour.”

“Okay,” she said with a mischievous smile, “but I have a wager for you.”

Remus cocked his head to one side as if trying to work out what she had just said, “What’s that?”

“A wager? It’s like a bet. What happens is you put something up to be won and…”

“Yes,” he interrupted, “you’re very funny. What’s the wager you have in mind?”

“The last one back has to plan the next date.”

Remus’s lip twitched slightly as he said, “Next date? You’re awfully sure of your self. What if I don’t want to go out with you again?”

“Not want to go out with me? That’s just crazy talk,” Tonks said before she turned on her heel and shot of into the crowd.

Fifty-five minutes later, Tonks rushed back to the spot that she had left Remus, arms full of various items and pockets stuffed with notes about safety upgrades and weak spots around the alley. She stopped and scanned the area quickly, looking for Remus. She didn’t see him; he must not have finished his shopping yet.

With a triumphant smile she set her bags down at her feet and relaxed. She had won another date and he was going to have to plan it. Sometimes her genius surprised even her.

“Don’t go looking all smug,” said a voice from behind her.

Turning quickly, Tonks found a very calm Remus leaning with his back against the wall of the Leaky Cauldron, one ankle resting over the other and his arms crossed against his chest. A small pile of bags sat at his feet. He had clearly been there for some time.

“How long have you been there?”

Remus grinned. “Fifteen minutes or so.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and snorted indignantly.

“I always did find snorting attractive. Please do it again.”

He pushed off the wall and walked to her, stopping only when he was mere breaths away from her. Leaning in he came within a centimeter of her cheek and whispered against her ear, “What do you want to have for lunch?”

You!

Grabbing the bags from her hands he stood back up as though all he had intended to do was to take her shopping burden from her.

“I dunno…er…you pick since I have to plan the next one?”

“Alright.” And he led the way through the crush of shoppers down the alley.



~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Go to your "happy place". (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704&page=8)

Hello again. Here we have Chapter 12, Today's Date, Part Two. This one is a bit all over the place, and I'm not sure how I feel about it yet. It strayed a bit from my original outline of the story, but then again, I've re-written the thing about three times, so....*shrugs* But I liked the idea and the scenario, so be sure to tell me what you think, here in Feedbackland. (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?p=3544168#post3544168)




Together they walked down the winding and crooked street, managing to navigate their way through the sea of shoppers until Remus stopped outside a small, but busy sidewalk café. There were several tables lined up under a large canopy, most full of happy looking people eating and drinking from standard, utilitarian china and heavy glass goblets. The tables were old, knotty wood and the servers were dressed, it appeared, in robes of any shape or color they so chose. It looked worn and plain, which made it seem more loved and appreciated.

Remus led the way inside, where Tonks was met with more jovial and contented faces. The interior was smaller than the exterior, with only about five tables and a large open kitchen. She could see three men in the kitchen preparing meals and casting charms to chop, flip and stir various foods. The smell of sizzling steaks and baking chicken and roasting garlic filled the tiny café and the sounds of happy chatter made the small space come alive. Tonks thought she might fall in love with the little eatery.

Before she could say as much, a short round man with a happy red face bustled toward them, his arms outstretched and his mouth pulled tight into a wide grin.

“Remus!” The man enveloped Remus in a huge hug.

“Hello, Myles.”

“How long has it been? Six months, at least! You never stop in to say hello! Where have you been, what have you been doing? Oh…” Myles had noticed Tonks standing next to Remus, a bemused smile on her face.

“Hello,” said Tonks, her hand outstretched to grip his.

“Myles, this is my friend Nymphadora.”

Tonks shot Remus a look that would have stopped a rampaging Manticor, but he ignored her and continued to trade pleasantries with Myles.

Finally, after inquires into the health of Myles’s wife and five children, the state of the business and his bum knee, Tonks and Remus were shown to a table on the patio.

“He’s awfully pleasant,” said Tonks as she scanned the menu.

“He’s a cross between a teddy bear and a leach. All cute and cuddly, but you have to be careful not to let him get too tight of a grip or you're stuck with him.”

Tonks grinned. “So, where did you meet him?”

“I worked here for a short while a few years back.”

Shocked by that revelation and by the idea of Remus serving tea and sandwiches, Tonks eyed him cautiously to see if he was pulling her leg.

“I really did,” said Remus, correctly reading her expression. “Why, is that hard to believe?”

“Not really, it’s just not academic and, well, you’re such an intellectual that it’s a bit weird to think of you doing something like this,” she swung her arm to indicate the servers bustling about.

“You’re not entirely wrong. I did find it rather dull. But it’s hard work, people are hard to please.”

“Even for a people-pleaser such as you?” she teased.

“Now that is a low blow.” He feigned insult and buried his face in a menu. “Hurry up and order you evil harpy.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lunch passed in a haze of good food, excellent wine and steady conversation. They didn’t once fall into the “weather and the state of the roads” trap, in which wary companions who found nothing to discuss were so often lost in. In fact, the day had passed all too quickly for her taste and as the waiter took their plates and replaced them with cups of coffee, Tonks felt her stomach fall in disappointment.

The day, no, date, had been absolutely delightful and she didn’t want to have to return to life in constant peril and lying and sneaking and dank, evil houses. She allowed herself a moment to permanently affix her surroundings and the contentment that the afternoon had awarded, into her memory.

Remus sipped his coffee and smiled at her when she looked his way.

“I had a really great time,” Tonks said. “I never even knew this place was here.”

“It’s a pretty great little place,” he agreed.

“I don’t know what I’ll do for our next date.”

Remus shot her an amused look and said, “Next date? I don’t believe you’ve asked me on another date.”

“Come off it. We agreed that the loser of the bet has to plan the next date.”

“And I still think you were overly confidant thinking I would want to go on another date with you.”

“You do want to…don’t you?”

Remus suppressed a grin badly and said, “I guess you’ll have to ask and find out.”

“I just asked,” she said, confused. “I said ‘you do, don’t you?”

“No,” he smiled at her, “you have to ask me out on a date.”

Tonks stared in surprise. He was kidding, he had to be kidding…right?

“What?” She asked at length.

“Well, I’m not some kind of man-whore. I expected to be asked like any other respectable person.”

Remus was full on smiling now, his face red with suppressed laughter.

“You’ve been taking lessons from Sirius, haven’t you?”

“Afraid not. All of his witty banter was stolen from me, you know.”

“Not likely,” Tonks said, disbelievingly.

“Okay, well, perhaps that’s not true, but you still have to invite me out.”

This was getting ridiculous, was it the wine that had Remus acting like this? If so, she was never going to feed him alcoholic beverages in her presence ever again. What happened to shy quiet Remus who blushed and made breakfast and folded his socks? And all of a sudden Tonks had a moment of doubt, a brief second in which she reconsidered her judgment of his character and panicked. What if all of before was just an act? What if he was a friend of Sirius for a reason beyond sharing a dorm room at school! Was he some kind of womanizer and delinquent? Was he setting her up to take advantage of her?

Get a grip you idiot! He’s teasing you! He’s the same person he always was; just now he’s more comfortable around you so he’s not so shy. Good Lord, woman, you’d think it was the apocalypse by the way you’re acting.

Looking up and making eye contact with Remus, Tonks calmed herself.

“Fine,” she said, “you big prat. Would you like to go out this weekend?”

Remus’s face straitened and he was no longer smiling with mischievous glee; he was watching her with a soft and disbelieving kind of wonder.

“I didn’t really expect you to do it. But I would love to.”

Unable to stop it, she grinned broadly before smacking him hard on the arm.

“Ow. What was that for?”

“Prat.”

And then, out of nowhere, Tonks saw Flint Pyle turn the corner across from the café and disappear down Knockturn Alley. Without a second’s hesitation, she was up (chairs and coffee and cups went everywhere) and sprinting into the street. She swung into the opening to Knockturn Alley and just caught site of Pyle enter a building about halfway down the block.

She took a discrete second to face the wall and morph so that she was average looking and unrecognizable before pelting down the block to where Pyle had disappeared.

Pausing for a breath, Tonks took stock of what she could see inside the building without entering. The door was falling from its hinges and knocking against the brick wall in a slight breeze. Litter wafted about in the dank entryway and a set of untrustworthy stairs ascended at an unnaturally steep angle to the flats above. Spider webs strung from ceiling to banister to steps to doorframe and a thick layer of dust clung to any flat surface available. A single set of footprints, imprinted in the dust, led the way up the steps.

Pyle was nowhere to be seen.

Following Pyle in was not an option. From what she could see, there was only one staircase and judging by the narrowness of the building itself, only one hall leading to the flats – in other words, no escape route should she need one.

It didn’t seem that anyone was living in the building full-time, so it was more than likely a safe house or meeting place and would have protective wards all over it.

Crossing the street, Tonks settled herself in front of Craven and Cardinals Animal Emporium where she had a clear view of where Pyle had entered.

She had been casually leaning against the cold bricks for nary a minute, before she saw Remus approaching. He walked up to her and settled himself next to her, crossing his arms across his chest.

“How did you know it was me?”

Remus continued to watch the building across the street. “You’re eyes. They’re the same.”

“Oh,” was all she could manage. How odd it felt to have someone recognize her by her eyes alone and what exactly did that mean? Would she have been able to recognize him by only his eyes, or his nose or his lips? A part of her thought she could and a part of her knew she could.

Smiling to herself, Tonks returned her attention to Pyle, or rather, the lack of Pyle.

The two stood watch for nearly an hour without as much as a moth leaving that building.

“You know,” said Remus. “I wonder if there is a back door.”

“If there is, it doesn’t exit off the entryway.”

“We should go have a look; he could have gone that way.”

Tonks rolled her eyes. “And he could have Apparated or taken a portkey or used an invisibility cloak…” she tossed her arms up in the universal “giving up” motion. “He could be anywhere.”

“Yes,” Remus said, “including, in that building.”

“Okay, we’ll go look. If there is a door, one of us will stay there and the other will come back to this side. Agreed?”

Remus held out his hand and waited for her to grasp it and shake. “Agreed.”

Tonks didn’t really feel comfortable calling the tiny area between the rows of buildings an alley, more like a crawl space. The space ran between the tall fences of tiny back yards on one-end and stone walls of Muggle buildings on the other. It was the place where the magical London met the non-magical London. Should the people in the Muggle structures look out their back windows they would only see the broken and deserted remains of a long abandoned warehouse, instead of the magical shops and flats that were really there. And Tonks and Remus were walking right on the line that separated one world from another.

They reached the backyard that they were seeking. It was separated from the tiny alley by a tall wooden fence that looked like it had suffered through World War two. Boards were cracked and broken, leaning haphazardly about; whole sections of wood were gone, revealing a barren square of land within; stray cats perched upon the top, watching cautiously as mice skittered around the yard. Peeking through a large gap in the wood, Tonks and Remus saw nothing but dead plant life and the back of an ugly brick building.

“Well, looks like you were right about the door,” she said, pointing up.

On the second floor, there was a single door, which opened onto a tiny wrought iron perch-like balcony. There wasn’t enough room on it for more than one small person and it didn’t have a stairway either up to the next level or down to the ground; pointless really.

“I’ll keep watch here,” Tonks said, not taking her eyes off of the door and inadequate balcony, “You stay on the front. If anyone leaves the building send red sparks. If no one leaves in one hour, we’ll meet back at the café. An d remember, this is the magical line, we can’t apparate, so if I send sparks, run your little canine **** off.”

Remus nodded and said, “Be careful,” before jogging out of the alley.

The trouble with Tonks on a stakeout was that she did not have enough patience to wait passively. She was always too anxious and too eager. It was very hard for her to relax and sit idle when she knew perfectly well that at any moment all hell could break loose. This time was no different.

Nearly a half of an hour had passed, in which she had paced the alleyway, taken stock of all yards there, located all escape routes, and found a good hiding place behind a pile of abandoned boards and stones.

Preparations made and Auror’s mind at ease, she was back to waiting impatiently; it did not suit her. But she needed to be rational and realistic about this. Rushing anywhere would more than likely get her hurt or caught or killed. There was no reason for irrational behavior, it was looking unlikely that Pyle, or anyone else, was still inside the building anyway, so were she to rush in, she would have probably set off wards and traps galore for no reason. Tonks repeated this line of reasoning to herself over and over again, until she couldn’t take it anymore and started to climb through a large gap in the fence.

Before she had managed to put one foot onto the dry, hard dirt of the yard beyond the fence, a sound stopped her. There were people in the alley. It was at this point that she realized just how late it had gotten; the sun had set, leaving only red gashes across the sky in its wake. The alley was an unfamiliar, dark land of shadows and she was alone. Her position against the fence and the darkness of the night meant she had no visual of whoever had joined her. Tonks took a second to consider sending up red sparks and calling Remus to her, but that was premature, she knew it. The presence of people in the alley did not signify danger or trouble. She had no reason to believe that whoever had entered the place she had been spying from was a threat to her. Better to lay low and see what they do.

“She’s here somewhere. Whoever finds her, bring her to me.”

Okay, so maybe they are a threat.

Judging by the distance of the voice, Tonks placed them at the opening of the alley. No light came from her end of the alley and unless they had their wands lit, they wouldn’t be able to see her. She could still get back to her hiding place among the construction rubble if she moved silently and quickly and now.

Without a thought, Tonks catapulted herself away from the fence and toward the pile of boards and stones. She was within a step of being completely hidden behind it, when her foot caught the edge of a brick and she fell with a deafening crash into her would be salvation.

A shout of voices rang out and if it had not been for the incredible pain in her right leg and the riotous clanging of agony in her head, she would have made a run for it. But her brain was on shut-down and her body was starting ache from her fall and she couldn’t think, couldn’t react. Something wet was running I her eyes and her back twinged with fresh pain when she tried to move.

Wandlight swam into her blurry vision, it was getting closer and the realization that she needed to do something dawned; fast and hard. With a burst of adrenaline, she sat upright, cracked her wand over her head casting a Disillusionment Charm and slid back behind a wide board. She took advantage of her adrenaline rush to take stock of injuries while her mind was clear. There was a large gash on her forehead, but it wasn’t deep and she was able to stop the bleeding with a simple first-aid charm, but she suspected that she had a concussion as well. Her leg was a different matter; it was broken. She wasn’t going to be able to fix it, she needed a healer for the leg and possibly for her back. She couldn’t see what was causing the pain in her back, but it was there. Using a few scraps of wood and a strip torn from her robes, Tonks made a shoddy splint for her leg, but that was all she could do; she was out of solutions for herself.

By then the intruders had made their way to where she was. She listened and watched from behind her make-shift bunker as they swept the alley. They continued past her and down toward the darkened dead-end. She counted four figures in black robes with hoods pulled up so that their faces stayed hidden.

“Search the trash pile,” said the same voice as before and two men made toward her.

The Disillusionment Charm would hide her only so well, she knew. If one of the men looked hard enough directly at her, he would see her there.

Wait for it. Just wait for it.

Finding a level of calm within her that she only ever found when she was that close to death, Tonks held her breath and froze, not a muscle, not a hair, not an eyelash moved as the two men poked around in search of her.

A dark figure paused in front of her and she could see now that he wore a Death Eater mask and that his eyes were a hollow brown. They fixed on where she sat, widened and then narrowed.

She didn’t wait, didn’t hesitate; a curse flew from her wand, hitting him square in the chest, sending him to the ground with a satisfying thud. Tonks pointed her wand skyward and red parks appeared against the velvet blackness, a signal of distress.

The three other men came toward where she sat in a bevy of voices, footfall and whipping cloaks. The man, who had also been searching the pile for her, reached her spot first and as soon as he was within sight, Tonks sent him to the cement along side his comrade.

The remaining Death Eaters were biding their time now. Two were out of the fight and the attacker was hidden quite effectively. They were smart, they moved slowly and deliberately, working their way toward her with quiet steps and no voices. She could not see them, but she knew they were coming; it was only a matter of time now. Of course she still had the advantage, being hidden and partially protected from spellfire by the debris she was hidden in, but that was little consolation, as she was already badly injured and losing her strength rather quickly.

Come on, Remus. What happened to running your canine **** off?

The figure of a man crossed her line of sight much too quickly for her to hit him with a spell. Now she was fairly certain that she had one to her left and one to her right. They were going to ambush her from either side.

Bugger

Tonks readied herself for the attack, knowing that if she was lucky, and only if she was lucky, she would take out one of them, which still left the other. Were she a very lucky woman, she would not be hit by their spellfire and have a moment to blast the second attacker.

Your brain must really be raddled, kid, because that scenario is bloody impossible.

And then they went for it; both cloaked figures came at her as she had expected; one on either side. She was still Disillusioned so they didn’t see her at first, which really was very little help as they didn’t wait for a visual confirmation of a target before firing blasts at her. Most of the curses were deflected by the rubble or sent wildly about and she managed to get a few shots out, none of which hit their targets.

They were advancing rapidly and it would only be seconds before they would be able to recognize her for what she was. Spellfire still blasted around her, but they had backed off, thinking that her lack of retaliation meant she was hit. But all Tonks wanted was to buy time for her back up to get there and not die first.

One of the men’s feet landed startlingly close to her, but he was looking about five feet to far past where she sat and his spells were jetting off into dusty piles of what used to be wood and stone and metal. He was about to trip over her splinted leg when out of no where, a red shot of light smashed into his back. He froze and fell forward, just missing her broken leg.

In the distance, Tonks could hear Remus’s voice as he sent jinxes and curses into the alley toward the only man left standing. A wash of relief overtook her and she nearly lost what level of consciousness she had left. The world faded to grey momentarily before she managed to pull herself back to where she was.

Slashes of light were crisscrossing and exploding as they hit walls and fences and trash bins. The two men were advancing on one another, sending curses wildly in the other’s direction. It was like a fireworks show and Tonks found herself marveling at the beauty of magic. It really was a thing of outstanding incomprehension, really; the ability to bend and transform and reshape matter, to make the elements of the universe do what you want them to; incredible.

A cry of frustration, or was it pain, knocked her out of her reverie and she looked up in time to see the Death Eater standing right in front of her. With final burst of energy, Tonks raised her wand and shot a curse at him. There was an explosion of light and the world went dark.



~*~*~*~*~*~

I don't really think that is a cliffhanger, is it? Nah!

Feedbackland awaits your arrival! (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?p=3544168#post3544168)

A/N: A couple of things. First, this portion of the chapter is cut off in a bit of a weird place, but I couldn't find any way of doing it different. Sorry. Second, there is a reference to Reverend Dimmsdale in this post. Rev. Dimmsdale is a character in The Scarlet Letter, he is having an affair with the married Hester Prynn and is ashamed of his behavior as it is immoral and against his religious beliefs, but he can't help it, as he loves her. So as punishment for his sins he takes it upon himself to physically injure himself by beating and flogging with a mace - at least I think it's a mace, but I haven't read the book ina while - a weapon at any rate. So, I just wanted to make sure you all got the reference.


Enjoy the new post!

~*~*~*~*~

Someone’s talking…somewhere…saying something…what is it? Who is it? Where are they? Where am I? Why does my head feel like it’s the size of Hagrid?

Tonks struggled to open her eyes, but they would not budge. They felt like someone had glued them shut. Slowly she started to become aware of the rest of her body; it hurt, all of it. There was something wrong with her right leg and she had something constricting her around her middle, was it a corset?

What the bloody hell happened?

“Death Eaters,” a disembodied voice said.

Oh, right…them..

Where in the name of Godric was she and who was talking?

“Right,” the oddly distant and warped voice said, “Knockturn Alley.”

Knockturn Alley? What was I doing in…?

Her memories came back in a flurry and she wished they had stayed buried in the jumble of her subconscious. They were less frightening there. Not that she was afraid; Auror’s were trained to overcome fear, but the aftermath of events like the one in the back alley, had a way of staying with you and she preferred not to have bad memories flying wingman in her brain.

But the fight memories were not the only ones to come back; she had been on a date…and she had ruined it. Why did she have to go chasing coworkers when she was supposed to be enjoying a nice lunch with Remus? Had she the ability to smack herself in the head for her stupidity, she would have, as it was, she settled for imagining it. He probably wouldn’t want to ever go on a date with her again. Who wants to date a crazy woman who dashes madly out of cafes and sneaks around spying on important members of the Ministry? Who wants to date a woman who trips over dust mites? Who wants to date a girl with pink hair?

How hard did I hit my head?

The voices came back suddenly, but she couldn’t make out more than a word here and there: Recovery…No, not necessary…Healer…Bandage…Sick leave…

Again she tried to open her eyes, it took considerable effort, and as soon as they were open she regretted doing so. The room was a blurry ball of fuzz; white and lime green and blue, smudged around the edges and swaying back and forth.

She groaned.

I think I’m going to be sick

“Tonks?”

Another groan.

A hand squeezed hers.

“Tonks? Molly! Get Healer Stiles!”

“Remus?” She croaked, trying to focus on the blurry mass that was speaking with Remus’s voice.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I got stepped on by an elephant. Did I get stepped on by an elephant?”

He chuckled and said, “No, but you did get beat-up by a pile of garbage.”

“And Death Eaters.”

Remus was quiet for a minute before he nodded his smudgy brown head. “Yes and Death Eaters.”

“W*nkers.”

He chuckled again, but any more that he might have said was cut off by the arrival of another fuzzy mass, this one lime green, which she recognized as the uniform of the Healers at St. Mungo’s. The green smudge was followed closely by the indistinct blob that fussed and twittered about like only Molly Weasley could.

“Miss Tonks,” the Healer was saying, “are you feeling any pain?”

“It might be easier to tell you where I am not feeling pain.”

“Can I have a dose of Murtlap Potion in room two-oh-two,” the Healer said into the tip of his want before returning his attention to Tonks. “How are your eyes?”

“I can’t seem to focus. It’s all fuzzy.”

“Yes, that’s what we thought. Here.” He dug into his pocket for a tiny bottle. Holding it above her eyes, he let a single drop land in each eye. Within minutes her vision was back to normal.

“That’s better,” she said taking a good look at what she could see of herself. “Although I preferred not know how horrible I look.”

“You did a very good job splinting that leg. We’ve healed the bone, but you shouldn’t put any weight on it for another few hours. Your back was slashed pretty badly, we had to remove several nails that had embedded just below the ribs (That explains the corset – bandages), but you’ve been all healed properly. You have a concussion that might cause you some dizziness, but we have already started you on the necessary potions to counteract that. You should be able to go home later tonight. Mrs. Weasley, here, assures me that you will be in her care for the next twenty-four hours, which I must say, is a stipulation of your release.” He smiled warmly before leaving the room.

Tonks took it all in and sighed. She had been badly hurt many times, but this one might have taken the cake. She had never been stabbed by nails before. She wondered how the scars would look.

“Tonks?”

Her head snapped up to find Remus and Molly watching her cautiously.

“Sorry, lost in thought.”

“Well, I’m off to prepare a room. We’ve not yet moved from Grimmauld Place back to the Burrow, so we’ll stay there until you’re back to normal.”

“Oh, no, Molly, really, that’s not necessary. Sirius or Remus can check in on me or I can have my mum do it. There is no need to delay your return home on my account.”

“Nonsense!” said Molly. “You need care and it’s only twenty-four hours. Besides, what kind of a person would I be if I left you in the hands of these brutes?” With a smile, Molly whipped around and left the room.

“Did she just make a joke at your expense?” Tonks asked.

“I think so.” Remus answered a confused twinge to his voice. “I didn’t know she had it in her.”

Remus moved to sit on the bed beside Tonks, his eyes fixed on her face.

“Are you really all right?”

“Remus, you are such a girl. Of course I am all right. You heard the Healer.”

“I didn’t mean physically. You were ambushed by four Death Eaters, Tonks. That has to have an effect.”

“I am fine,” she insisted, and she was, really. She might have a bad dream or two over the next weeks, but she had fared well in the alley and that would serve to calm her anxiety, at least it always had in the past.

“Are you sure?” He asked, his eyes firmly holding hers.

“Remus John Lupin!” Tonks said sternly. “You had better not be trying to Legilimens your way into my head!”

Looking like he had just been caught stealing from the cookie jar, Remus said, “It was worth a shot.”

“If you ever do that again I will turn you into a beef-flavored chew toy and give you to Padfoot!”

A nurse bustled in shortly thereafter and gave Tonks the pain potion, which aside from having the side effect of uncontrollable blinking for several minutes, was wonderful.

It was another three hours before the Healer had given her permission to go home. Remus had gathered her things and used a few charms to clean them as best he could, which was far better than she could have ever done herself, and left the room while she carefully wiggled back into them.

They decided to take a Muggle taxi back to number twelve, as all other modes of Wizard transportation did not fit their needs; flooing from a government run facility, as St. Mungo’s was, would run the risk of drawing attention to the unregistered fire at Grimmauld Place; the Knight Bus was too violent; they didn’t have brooms; and Tonks wasn’t up for Apparating yet.

Remus kept a wary eye on her the entire car ride and she felt like maybe she might implode under the heat of his glare. It was painfully clear that he didn’t believe her to be all right and it was having a rather infuriating effect on her. She was an Auror for crying out loud, not some flimsy little girl who needed protecting and Remus would do well to remember it.

“Stop looking at me like that.” She said much more calmly than she felt - always a danger sign.

“Like what?”

“Don’t be thick, it doesn’t suit you. I am fine and I don’t need your accusing glares.”

Remus shifted to look out the window. “I have accused you of nothing,” he said, his voice also very calm.

“Don’t give me that.” She had lost her composure now and her voice shot up a few decibels. “You tried Legilimency on me because you thought I was lying and now you’ve been watching me like I might suddenly start screaming and jump out the window. You don’t believe me and it’s starting to wear thin, Remus.”

“You were very nearly killed tonight, Tonks!” he spat back, turning to look at her again. “Don’t tell me you’re back to one-hundred percent all of a sudden. That’s too much for anyone to bounce back from that fast.”

“Well, I am not anyone. I am an Auror! I know myself, Remus, and I am fine.

“You may say that now – ”

“Don’t even finish that sentence, you self righteous, holier-than-thou git. How dare you tell me what I feel, how dare you, after a few snogs and one date, act as though you know what I am feeling!”

She was sorry the second she stopped speaking. The words had spilled from her in frustration and anger, but they were not fair, they weren’t even true. He was not any of those things she had called him, he was only worried; concerned for her because he cared and she had blown up at him for a lousy reason.

Remus remained silent, his gaze returned to the passing buildings outside.

Before she could apologize, the taxi stopped and they were emerging into the night. Remus paid the driver and they waited silently for him to turn the corner before heading to the space between numbers eleven and thirteen.

They were met at the door of number twelve by Mad-Eye, who ushered them inside quickly, but quietly.

“All right, Tonks?” Mad-Eye said his normal eye on her and his magical one on Remus.

“Fine, Mad-Eye, thanks.”

With a nod and not another word, the wizened old Auror clapped her on the shoulder and headed down to the kitchen.

Tonks shot a sharp look at Remus and said, “Good enough proof that I am fine, for you?”

In a blur of movement, Tonks found herself pinned between the door and Remus, as he caught her in a nearly violent embrace. He had a hand at her shoulder and the other wrapped around her waist. His lips were on hers immediately, and she was shocked by the urgency and aggression that he displayed, but she felt her anger melt as he kissed her; as she kissed him back. He was clinging to her, pressed hard against her as though he was afraid she might run away, and that was exactly what it had all been; he was afraid; he had been scared by her close encounter in Knockturn Alley and he was being over protective because of it.

Several minutes later, Tonks pulled away. She looked at Remus, his eyes were fiery and in them she saw millions of emotions swarming around, the most prominent were surely fear and relief. She felt even more regret for her words in the taxi.

“I’m sorry. I should never have said those things. I didn’t mean them.”

I know,” he said, resting his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I was just so scared for you.”

Tonks wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a much more normal and affectionate kiss.

“Pardon,” said a voice from the hall.

They both jumped away from each other, straight-backed and looking as innocent as possible. It was knee-jerk reaction on Tonks’s part, at being caught in a compromising situation by their old Headmaster. It certainly wasn’t the first time. Remus’s reaction seemed more fueled by surprise than experience.

Albus Dumbledore stood, tall and thin, in midnight blue robes with silver accents, among the curious paintings in the hall, a crooked grin on his lips and his eyebrows raised so high they were lost under his hair.

“Sir,” Tonks said, recovering first and speaking in bright tones. “How are you this evening?”

“Very well, Nymphadora. And you?”

“Quite well, thank you.”

“I believe we are waiting to begin the meeting. If you two could finish up your business and come into the kitchen, we will begin momentarily.”

With a final glance at a frantically blushing Remus, Dumbledore turned and retreated into the darkened hallway.


Feedback (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?p=3544168#post3544168)

Okay, here is the promised finish to chapter 12. Now don't go getting comfortable with this extra posting business. I have resolved myself NOT to cave under the whining anymore! *looks around to see if anyone can see she's totally lying* Really, I won't do it again! Tuesdays only!



“Oh, buck up. It’s not all that bad,” she said smiling at him. “He’s caught students in far more compromising situations than that.”

Remus’s head shot up. “Not me!” he said in a self-punishing tone. “I’m not a student, I am a grown man who ought to have more self control.”

“Alright Reverend Dimmsdale, you get on with the beating and flogging. I have a meeting.”

Tonks turned and marched as best as her injuries would allow down into the kitchen. Just inside the door, she was met by Sirius, who immediately grabbed her arm, put it around his shoulders and helped her to a seat, even though she didn’t need the help.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again you selfish wench!” Sirius said, easing her into a chair more carefully than her injuries warranted.

“Be careful cousin, your sensitive side is showing.”

He simply huffed at her in response and plopped down in the chair to her right.

It was only seconds before Remus joined them and took the chair to Tonks’s left. He was back to his normal quiet, reserved and thoughtful self; nothing like the man she had lunch with that afternoon. Where he had been funny and witty and even talkative, he was now withdrawn and serious and unapproachable. It was amazing how different he was around her when they were alone. It was like seeing two sides of something and each being completely different. But somehow, she enjoyed the puzzle and the contradiction; the complexities of his personality were utterly fascinating.

“Miss Tonks.”

“Er..pardon?” Tonks said coming back into reality.

The ten or so people present were all staring at her with eager faces, their eyes wide in curiosity, but it was Dumbledore who spoke.

“I was explaining that I must return to the school as soon as it is possible for me to do so, as today marks the beginning of term, so I would ask that you explain the events of this afternoon, if that is acceptable to you?”

“Oh, right.”

Tonks chanced a glance and Remus. He was wearing an expression of pleading anxiety; he was silently begging her not to reveal that they had been on a date when they had seen Pyle. It was actually very cute.

Sirius, on the other hand, was eyeing her with expectant anticipation; he was hoping that she would explain what they had really been doing in Diagon Alley. He was bound to be disappointed.

Tonks winked at Sirius as consolation for his soon-to-be disappointment, to which he cocked an eyebrow and smiled.

“Okay, but Remus, you’ll have to help me. There are few pieces I am not too clear on.” He nodded and she continued. “Remus and I were picking up some supplies when we saw Pyle enter Knockturn Alley. Speaking of which, what happened to our shopping bags?”

“I had Myles send them by owl to the Burrow.”

“Oh, anyway, I followed Pyle and watched him enter number 27, which appeared to be an abandoned apartment building. I did not follow him inside, as I could not see an accessible escape route. Remus caught up and we waited for about an hour with no sign of Pyle or anyone else. We then went round back and discovered a balcony on the second floor. I stayed in back and Remus went around to the front. It was another half-hour or so when the Death Eaters appeared. I tried to hide behind a pile of old construction supplies, but I must have tripped because - ”

“You didn’t trip, dear,” Molly said from her spot near the sink.

Every head in the room snapped around to look at the matronly witch and she blushed lightly under their gazes.

“What?” Tonks asked, confused.

“The Healers at St. Mungo’s said you were hit by an Impedimenta jinx, but it must have reflected off of something before hitting you in the ankle because it didn’t have the full effect. It is what broke your leg though.”

Tonks stared at the woman. “Really? Good, I was feeling really stupid for tripping.”

“Oh no, dear. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Thanks, Molly,” she smiled at the older woman before turning back to the group at large. “So I guess I was hit by a curse, which caused me to fall and I sustained some severe injuries. I Disillusioned myself and managed to take out two of them and send sparks to alert Remus. I sat tight for a few minutes and Remus, taking his sweet time,” she smiled at the sour face he made, “showed up and jinxed the third man…and…” Tonks faltered for a moment as she tried to line all of the events up in her head. “I remember seeing the Death Eater in front of me, raising my wand and a very bright light and…that’s it.”

Remus immediately spoke up to fill in the gaps. “I was waiting at the front of the building, having seen nothing suspicious, when the sparks went up. I ran,” he shot a glare at Tonks, “to the back alley and found two Death Eaters and no Tonks. I hit the first with a jinx and the second and I dueled. Apparently he walked right into Tonks’s line or fire because she shot a curse at the same time I did, which was very helpful, as it showed me where she was hiding. Both curses hit him, causing the light she saw. A body-binding curse and a stunning spell have very unstable effects when used together.”

“And you had the impression that they knew who you were?” Hestia Jones asked.

“No, I was in disguise, so if they knew it was me and not just some lurker they would have had to have been following me since lun…shopping.”

She looked at Sirius just in time to hear him snort and try to pass it off as a sneeze. Remus gave him a death stare to end all death stares, which unsurprisingly had no effect and he spoke anyway, a mischievous glint in his gray eyes.

“Why would they attack you if they had not been following you since, was it lunch you said?” Sirius asked, looking questioningly at her.

“Shopping,” Remus said sternly.

“For supplies,” Sirius added sarcastically. “Of course.”

“I think it can be safely narrowed down to two possibilities,” Mad-Eye interjected. “One: you were followed the entire time you were at Diagon Alley. Or Two: you stumbled onto some Death Eater activity and were spotted.”

“Er…what happened to the Death Eaters? Couldn’t they answer these questions?” Tonks asked.

“I bound them up and left them in the alley and took you to St. Mungo’s. I contacted Kingsley from hospital, but by the time he reached the alley, they were gone.”

“Ah, sod it!” Tonks said, hitting the table with her fist out of frustration.

“The problem with the first scenario is that we don’t know why she would have been followed,” Bill said. “Being seen snooping around and attacked I understand, but followed…why?”

“I shall leave that to be solved by your capable hands at another time,” Dumbledore said. “There is one more matter that I feel needs to be discussed. Sturgis Podmore had been arrested.”

A communal gasp of shock filled the room as nearly everyone there drew in breath and stared at Dumbledore.

“He is accused of trespass and attempted robbery. These charges come after he was caught by a security guard attempting to open the door to the Department of Mysteries.”

“Open the door?” Snapped Bill. “Why open it?”

“I have been to see him and it would seem that he has been under the Imperius curse for several days.”

There was another round of murmurs and surprised gasps, but their aged leader held up his hand for quiet.

“He was managing to fight it on several occasions which is why he has been absent from Headquarters so often. He was trying to keep away from the Order as much as possible. Sturgis informs me that he was hit by the curse as he was coming out of the elevator to begin his guard of the Department of Mysteries door. He was cursed by Lucius Malfoy.”

There was a groan from the room at large at the mention of Lucius. He seemed to be at the center of all things immoral and wrong and most of them were sick and tired of having him slip through the well-greased fingers of the Ministry.

“Good old Uncle Lucky,” Tonks spat. “I don’t suppose Sturgis’s testimony will have any bearing at all?”

“Not with the way Lucius has Fudge paid off,” said Sirius with nearly as much venom as Tonks had. “The man’s got the entire Ministry in his pocket.”

“I must apologize for my short, but enlightening visit.” Dumbledore said and Tonks was certain he had thrown her a twinkle-eyed grin before pulling up to his full height. “I am requesting that extra care is taken when on guard at the Ministry. Please remain covered by the cloak at all times, we do not want, nor do we need, a repeat of the situation that Mr. Podmore now find himself in. Feel well, Nymphadora.” And with that he left the room, whistling to himself.

By the time Molly insisted that Tonks got to bed, the group had thinned and managed to be fairly evenly split about what had provoked the attack on Tonks. They were no closer to discovering why she had been ambushed and it was infuriating. Add to that the business with Podmore and Tonks found her self in a dreadful mood and a towering temper.

It did nothing to lighten her mood when Kingsley had insisted that she take a few days off from her Auror duties and Mad-Eye had immediately assigned her to three nights straight of Prophecy Watch, insisting that she only had to sit in one place and was entirely capable of doing so.

“Golly, Mad-Eye, you’re such a darling to work for. So caring and concerned, ” she had said, before following Molly out of the kitchen and up to one of the spare rooms.

It was quite nice of Molly to go to all of the trouble to see to Tonks and she was grateful, but some part of her felt it was not remotely necessary. The independent part of her wanted to resist the care and convince everyone that she was more than capable of taking care of herself. She was not used to people taking care of her, no one had done so in years. Apart from Healers, all of her injuries since the beginning of Auror training had been either self-healed or healed by colleagues not mention that any sign of weakness would have labeled her as vulnerable or a failure. She was tough and she knew it. To be treated like an invalid was foreign and uncomfortable; it made her feel weak and she hated that.

“Get out of those clothes. We have to change that bandage,” said Molly, pointing vaguely to Tonks’s midsection.

“Oh, right, the corset.”

Tonks stripped off her clothes and ignored the pangs of pain as Molly unwrapped, cleaned and re-wrapped her wounds. They were nearly healed now. The last thing to heal were always the nerves, which were most painful, and Tonks knew from experience that after tonight her wounds would be just a memory.

Or will my memories be the wounds?

She watched as the sweet ginger-haired woman smiled and bid her goodnight before closing the door softly to Tonks’s room. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

A/N - Here it is, chapter 13. No special notes this time, just read and review. (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?p=3544168#post3544168)


Chapter 13,
Lost and Found

The great thing about being involved in upheaval and danger is that there is always a period of time following the disaster when everything is quiet, restful and calm. The days following the attack and Podmore’s arrest were just that. It was a nice lull for Tonks and she was bound and determined to enjoy it, whether or not it was an end to the storm or just the eye of the hurricane; deceivingly mellow before all hell broke loose again, was of no consequence. She didn’t care if the world was about to fall from Atlas’s shoulders, so long as for three days she didn’t have to go into work and live a lie.

In the beginning, her double life had been exciting and dangerous; she had thought it special and unique, but now it was more exhausting than anything. She still maintained that she was doing noble and necessary works, but her old life, the one she had worked so hard for, the one that had been so esteemed, the one that had once made her proud, was now a lie. It was a sham and she was living it in order to further the efforts of brave men and women who wanted – no, needed – to improve the world.

But what kind of toll was that taking on her? What damage was she inflicting upon herself to push the efforts of their cause? It was a daunting thought. She had already smashed her delusions regarding the Ministry, but how many more would she have to destroy before this was all over? How many people would she have to suspect or mistrust or expose or lose?

Now she found herself wandering among her shattered ideals, lost within the maze of what had once been a concrete belief system and unshakeable values. Never had she thought of herself as confused or uncertain. The drive to become an Auror had been her only focus since she was twelve and it had not wavered once. Not until Kingsley had appeared with his life-changing note from Dumbeldore, that is.

The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is located at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, London.

Bloody, Order of the Phoenix.

Grateful as she was for their presence in her life and the lengths to which they were willing to go to ensure the safety of the Wizarding world, somewhere, deep down, Tonks resented them for breaking down her ideals; for leaving her to waffle about with a handful of beliefs that were no longer valid.

But that’s not true.

No, it wasn’t the Order that left her lost in the proverbial woods; it was the Ministry itself. If she was going to be honest with herself, the disenchantment with the government had begun before Kingsley had ever given her that piece of parchment. Minister Fudge was the cause of her distress, he was the reason that everything she had followed so diligently, every ideal she had created, had been a load of hogwash, with no meaning or purpose. She had spent years devoting her life, devoting herself, to the Ministry and now here she was, lost among their inadequacies and bad choices.

Remus had been concerned that the events of the alley would have a negative effect on Tonks, but he should have been more worried about the effects of leaving her brain idle for more than five minutes. She lay awake at nights thinking, her brain churning about, thought after thought of how better she could have done had she not so blindly believed in the work of the ministry. She dreamt of people exposing her as a spy, of people tearing off masks to reveal the wrong faces beneath. She sat in her corner in front of the door to the Department of Mysteries lost in feelings of disappointment and sadness. She was strangling herself from the inside out.

But every morning lately Tonks had resolved to ignore the penetrating feelings of dread and go on as usual. It did no good to dwell on the negative or on the “what if’s” and she knew better than to wallow in confusion or self-pity, or whatever it was she was feeling. So Tonks woke every morning spent at Grimmauld Place while on her sick leave, with a smile and a positive attitude. She was determined to enjoy that time and and to work out her mental anguish with some grace and dignity. And when she’s determined, that’s the end of the story because she already knew the outcome.

Mornings were spent having breakfast with Sirius and Remus and whoever happened to be around. Molly and Arthur had left for the Burrow after Tonks had assured her that she was all right, so breakfast was a bit smaller and a bit less lavish than before, but together Sirius and Remus were actually very impressive in the kitchen.

Afternoons were spent either reading or playing cards with Sirius. On more than one occasion, Tonks found her self wanting to follow Remus upstairs or outside or wherever he was headed, but didn’t dare be so blasé in front of Sirius. He was already making sneaky comments pertaining to their relationship and stealing covert glances at them when they weren’t looking. Remus may have been right about not wanting him to know too much, she admitted, of only to herself.

“What do you suppose she’s thinking about, Remus? Something kinky involving a member of the canine fam -?”

“Shut it!” Tonks said, breaking out of her thoughts.

She was seated at the kitchen table with a mug of hot tea and a copy of a very ridiculous Quibbler that Kingsley had given Sirius, in which a witch claimed that Sirius was innocent of murdering all of those Muggles fourteen years before because he was really Stubby Boardman, singer for the Hobgoblins and had been having dinner with her on the night in question.

“Hit a little too close to the truth, I think,” he said, nudging Remus in the side.

Remus turned a shade of red that would make a lobster jealous, not out of embarrassment, but out of anger.

“Sirius, let it go. Just let it shrivel up and die and never bring up the subject again or so help me Merlin, I will lock you in a closet with Kreacher for the rest of your life.”

“Ah,” Sirius said, clapping his hands together appreciatively, “that is threat. Well done!”

For the first time since Sirius and Remus had entered the kitchen moments before, Tonks fully realized what Sirius was wearing. He had on a pair of old black Muggle jeans that had faded and torn at the knees with age, a ragged looking red t-shirt and a worn leather jacket. His hair was cut shorter and standing up all over, not unlike Harry’s, and his eyes were brown instead of their usual gray.

“Who are you supposed to be, Sid Vicious?” she asked, a definite mocking tone to her voice.

“Who the hell is Sid Vicious?” he asked, but didn’t wait for an answer before offering an explanation as to why he was dressed so absurdly. “Anyway, the clothes are Regulus’s. I found them in the closet and thought they might help.”

“Well, you do look ridiculous, but at least you don’t look like yourself,” said Tonks.

“So, are we leaving yet?”

Remus rolled his eyes at his friend’s impatience. He didn’t look ridiculous, he looked horrible. The full moon was approaching and Remus was feeling it rather badly this month. He was pale and drawn, his skin was cold and clammy and he hadn’t eaten more than toast and tea in two days. His already thin figure was looking frail and tired. It was heart breaking watching him battle the curse that would eventually win, as it always won.

“In a minute, Sirius,” Remus said, the impatience in his voice clear. “Tonks, can I have a word?”

“Of course.”

Tonks followed Remus into the hall, shutting the kitchen door in Sirius’s face. He made a disgruntled grunt from inside the kitchen and Tonks couldn’t stop herself from grinning a little.

“Don’t grin at him,” Remus said.

“I can’t help it, he’s really very cute.”

Remus settled an annoyed gaze on her, but did not press the issue. Instead, he sat on an ornately carved bench in the hall and pressed his fingers to his eye sockets.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Tonks asked as she sat next to him on the bench. She hooked her arm into his and nearly flinched at how cold his skin was.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Why don’t you go lie down and Sirius and I will get going. He’ll be back before you know it.” She smiled reassuringly at him, but he didn’t return it.

“I hate this,” he said.

“I know you do. But it is what it is and we have to adjust to it. Don’t feel bad and don’t worry. It will be fine.”

She leaned over and gave him a small kiss on the cheek before standing and holding out her hand to help him up.

Because of what Tonks could only identify as male pride, Remus stood with out her help, though he looked quite shaky, and followed her up the stairs to his room.

“Now get undressed and into bed,” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Remus paled visibly and gave her a look of pure confusion, before realizing that she was ribbing him.

“You are evil,” he said.

“I am not. I meant that. Get undressed and get into your bed. You will not be blundering about and falling down the stairs while we are gone. Besides, if Sirius isn’t back before sunset, you will want to be locked in here anyway.”

“Alright, as soon as you leave. You are not trust worthy.”

“Oh, what are you, twelve?” Tonks said, incredulous, her hands on her hips and her head cocked to one side.

“Keep your hands where I can see them.”

“You’re in no condition for me to take advantage of you anyway,” she said.

With his eyes narrowed, Remus stripped off his robes until he was in nothing but boxers and socks. Tonks noticed that he folded each item of clothing before placing it on the small chair at his desk. He walked a large arch around her, keeping narrowed eyes on her at all times before climbing into bed, a poorly suppressed smile on his lips.

“Now that I have you where I want you…” Tonks smiled as she crossed to his bed and sat on the edge.

Pulling the sheets up to his neck and eyeing her cautiously, Remus said, “I thought I was in no condition to be taken advantage of.”

“Ye of the dirty mind! I told you before I just wanted you in your bed so you are safe and whole when Sirius gets back. For Merlin’s Sake, what sick thoughts float around in that head of yours! Pervert!”

“Alright, you’ve taken enough cheep shots at me this evening, now please leave.”

Tonks placed a kiss on his forehead and stood. She crossed to the door before stopping to ask if he needed anything before they left.

“Just be careful.”

She nodded, all joking aside. He was worried, which he did far too much anyway, but she understood why he was so concerned about this. Sirius was in considerable danger from both the Ministry and Voldemort and was now going to go against direct orders from Dumbledore (with their help) and leave the house to do Order work. A dangerous thing, no doubt, but Remus felt it especially strongly, as he was supposed to be accompanying Tonks, but due to the full moon and lack of available bodies, the task had fallen to Sirius.

They had not told anyone of their plan, of course. It was a simple recon mission and Tonks could report any information gathered alone. If she was scolded for completing a mission alone, so be it, but this was a golden opportunity and no full moon or conflicting schedule was going to stand in her way.

Sirius was seated at the kitchen table, holding the absurd copy of the Quibbler and shaking his head.

“Well,” she said taking the seat next to him, “sing me something, Stubby.”

“This is a beautiful story. Who’s memories do I have to charm to make it believable?”

“A Mr. Cornelius Fudge. You may have heard tell of him from time to time, short, little man with no fashion sense and a denial problem.”

“Ah, yes I think I know the one.” Sirius smiled briefly before his eyes shifted to a calculating kind of look that she took to mean bad things. “So, what were you doing to my friend up there in his bedroom? I don’t want him corrupted, defiled, controlled, distorted or otherwise changed by you and your girlie ways.”

“Oh please! That man is more of a girl than I am.”

Sirius smiled at her and nodded understandingly. “I know, that way he folds his laundry when he changes his clothes…gets me every time. And I shared a dorm with him for seven years.”

“Well, we had better get down to business,” Tonks said, pulling out a small roll of parchment from her pocket. “This is the note I received anonymously. It says that there is an abandoned cabin here,” Tonks pointed to a spot on a map that she had also pulled from her pocket, “that is often used as a meeting place for several of the Death Eaters. A small meeting is scheduled for tonight. We are going to observe and that is all. This is a gather and leave trip, Sirius, no heroics.”

“How do we know this isn’t a trap?”

Tonks pointed to the note. “We don’t, but I asked Mad-Eye to pop in last night and have a look around this cabin. He reported recent occupation of the premises and minimal security wards. There are apparition sensors here, here and here,” she pointed to three spots on the map. “We will have to fly in on brooms. We can land in the trees and watch from just above the building since all of their security is at ground level. Mad-Eye says there were no traps set as of yesterday, but we won’t really know until we get there.”

“Covered all of your basis, didn’t you?”

Tonks offered him a weary smile. “All of them that I could at least.”

Sirius nodded and smiled. “Shall we be off, then?”

“Yes, I suppose we should.”

A/N: Here is the last half of Chapter 13, Lost and Found. Happy reading!



The note that had made it’s way to Tonks’s hands had described the clandestine Death Eater meeting place as a cabin, but it seemed that the author of the note was a bit of an optimist. Nestled deep in the forest, far from any other people or buildings or roads, was a pile of logs that was most definitely held together by magic. In fact, it looked very much as though someone had found a fallen old shack and levitated the remaining logs into the shape of a square and cast a permanent sticking charm on the thing. It looked monstrous and misshapen. What would normally be called a roof was nothing more than floorboards laid flat atop the four walls and the door was clearly stolen from somewhere, as it was made of heavy stone and iron, not unlike some of the doors found at Hogwarts. There was only one window that someone had had the thought to board up, though badly, leaving many spaces between the slats of wood. Golden candlelight spilled through the boards of the window and the slats of the roof.

“You were a little liberal with your use of the word cabin, I think.” Sirius gave her a curious look.

“You Blacks are never happy,” she sighed.

“You’re a Black and I know what makes you happy. Starts with an R and ends with an emus.”

“I am not even going to acknowledge that stupid remark and pretend you never spoke.”

Ignoring Sirius, Tonks took a moment once they had safely settled themselves in the tree, to morph herself into some anonymous woman with blond hair and a small round nose and ears that were too big and lips that were too small. She rather preferred to make herself memorable when in disguise, that way people who sought to identify her were always looking for those prominent features. It was an excellent bit of misdirection.

“Whoa! Ugly!” Sirius said, too loudly when she had finished her disguise.

“Shut up and pay attention.”

They watched for several minutes from a tree above the shack as hooded figures entered. They had counted four, when two more appeared carrying a third between them. The unconscious man was being drug along; he was hoisted up under his arms, his feet were limply dragging behind, and his head was bobbing about at his chest. As they entered the shack, Tonks could hear an annoyed voice scold the new arrivals and her blood went cold and her stomach sank.

“Lucius,” Sirius whispered, having heard the angry voice as well.

Tonks nodded and sighed. How did her family, distant and estranged as they were, always end up in the middle of wars? Families were supposed to fight and hate each other from time to time, but not like this! Was there some sort of award for the most dysfunctional family in Britain? She dared anyone to say they weren’t worthy of it.

“Merlin, Circe and Nigellus,” Tonks swore under her breath.

“Nigellus?”

“I figured the crabby old man was worthy of an oath.”

“Fitting,” Sirius said with a grin. “Now, how exactly are we going to see what’s going on in there?”

Tonks smiled widely at him and pulled a handful of fleshy strings from her pocket. “We’re not. We are going to listen.”

“Extendable Ears. Brilliant! Who’s idea was that, not yours surely?”

“What do you mean ‘who’s idea,’ this could very well been my idea.” Tonks stared, incredulously at him, clearly hurt and angry at his accusation.

Sirius cocked an eyebrow at her to show that he did not believe her and she caved.

“Alright. It was Remus’s idea.”

“Thought it must have been. Discussed over breakfast in bed?”

Without justifying his remark with an answer, Tonks handed him one of the Extendables and took one for herself. Placing one end in their ears, they said, “Okay, go,” in unison and watched as the thin strings snaked off toward the shack.

Silently, she directed hers to the window where it settled itself just inside one of the cracks in the covering boards. Sirius’s Extendable had stopped at a space between the floorboards that were acting as the roof.

The effect was almost instantaneous; her head was filled with voices and judging by Sirius face, he too was hearing the ruckus inside the shack.

“Your orders were not to incapacitate him!” shouted a voice that they both recognized at once as Lucius. “We need him awake you ingrates!”

“We can enervate him. It’s not - ”

“You are an idiot! We need him in good health, not delirious from a concussion!”

“Look,” said the other voice, quivering slightly. “Ennervate!

There was silence and then the groan of a man coming awake and then the shuffle of feet and robes as people moved about. A scraping rather like a chair being dragged across the floor could be heard and then quiet again.

She chanced a glance at Sirius and he mouthed the words, tied him to the chair.

She nodded. That too had been her impression and she was now very concerned about what exactly would be required of them on this mission. There were six Death Eaters inside and they had a man tied to a chair. Should the hostage need help, she wasn’t entirely sure they could provide it. Two against six was terrible odds and Tonks, self sacrificing as she was, could not risk her life, her cousin’s life, exposition of the Order or her standing at the Ministry, for the life of one unknown man. No, she had no choice, there would be no rescuing that night, as much as she hated it; it was too big a risk.

“You’re carelessness with the prisoner will be reported to the Dark Lord, I assure you,” Lucius said in his seething drawl. “Look at him! He’s barely able to keep awake.”

The unmistakable sound of a hand connecting with a face shot through the shack, followed by a pained grunt.

“There,” a third voice said. “That got his attention.”

“Oh, just do it already. The Dark Lord grows impatient,” Lucius said.

There was more scuffling, robes swished, feet padded about the room, then the chair legs clanged against the floor and muffled yells echoed into the nothingness. The hostage was resisting whatever was being done to him. Curses were cast and they continued to struggle until Lucius’s voice said, “Crucio!”

All struggling stopped and was replaced by horrific screams. They only lasted a second before silence fell once more.

Slowly the sounds of movement returned; walking, dragging, whimpering, something that sounded frighteningly like the clanging of metal, struggling and then silence yet again. But this silence was soon broken by the sound of a low growl, a guttural and angry growl that resonated off the walls and into the ears of two people perched in a tall oak tree.

Tonks looked at Sirius and Sirius looked at Tonks. Instinctively, both spun towards the sky in search of the moon, seeking some kind of proof that what they had heard was indeed what they thought it to be. But to their amazement and relief, the sun still hung, shining and golden, above the distant skyline of oak and pine, not far above it, but above it nonetheless. It would still be at least an hour before nightfall. They could not have heard what they thought.

But another angry growl pulled their attention back to the shack and a howl confirmed their dread.

A werewolf. During the day.

Listening intently for some kind of proof, Tonks ventured a bit further out on her tree branch. Sirius redirected his Extendable so that it was closer to the center of the roof, to better hear everything within the building. And again they listened.

They could clearly hear the scraping of claws on metal and the screech of splintering wood, the yelps of frightened Death Eaters, and then all hell broke loose. A deafening crack shook the shanty, causing the single window to shatter behind its wooden covering and several of the roof boards fell in. Screams filled the air and the door burst open, spilling hooded black figures onto the forest floor. First out had been Lucius, followed by three others, the last of whom slammed the door shut and yelled. “Colloportus!”

The terrified and angry cries of the men still inside, jerked at Tonks’s heart and made her stomach want to revolt. But they did not scream long, the wolf killed quickly, not interested in eating or savoring, but only in destroying and killing.

It did not take long for the wolf to begin its destruction of the door. It beat and scratched and howled at the sealed door for several minutes while Lucius and the others watched from a great distance. Tonks didn’t know what they were waiting for, but it seemed odd that they had stayed instead of fleeing like the cowards that they were.

She watched the three robed figures as they argued amongst themselves. What had they been trying to accomplish in that cabin and why had it gone wrong? How did they make a werewolf transform before moonrise? She didn’t need to ponder the why, that was obvious. But the how was rather hard to wrap her head around.

She felt a nudge to her side and looked round to see Sirius pointing down at the shack. Her reaction was immediate, but Sirius had a hand over her mouth before she could gasp too loudly and alert the werewolf to their presence.

But whatever was tearing its way out of that window was not a werewolf, yet it was not a man either. It emerged, like some freakish and horrifying monster being born, head first then shoulders, body and finally legs; half wolf and half human. It had hairy, clawed hands and a dog-like snout and had sprouted sparse, but wiry hair over the entirety of its body. It was disgusting and terrifying and heart breaking all at once.

With surprising grace, the beast landed on the ground at the foot of the window and sniffed the air. Its head swung to the left and focused on the three remaining Death Eaters.

Sirius’s grip on Tonks tightened and they sat, still as the dead with their breaths held.

The beast moved toward the Death Eaters at a slow kind of prowl, dangerously creeping ever closer to them, but another sniff of the air, stalled the creature. This time it swung its head upward and locked its murderous gaze on Tonks and Sirius.

Wasting no time, they drew wands and readied themselves. They had the advantage of being high up in the tree, their brooms were beside them and they could be in the air before the creature even left the ground, but they were cautious just in case.

The creature, however, was not the only problem that they were now facing. Having seen the animal’s hesitation and redirected focus, Lucius followed its line of sight and saw them crouched in the oak, waiting to fight or fly.

A gleeful and angry voice rang out into the forest, shocking them all. Lucius had yelled at the creature, he had hollered an order at it, an order to kill the two in the tree. But the animal did not leap at them or bare its teeth. It simply looked from the people in the tree to the people on the ground, apparently confused about whom to attack first.

“I said kill them,” Lucius tried again. “Kill them now!”

With one giant leap, the beast landed himself much closer to the Death Eaters, its clawed hands up and curled into attack form, its back hunched and knees bent low to the ground. Apparently it didn’t take well to orders.

Before it could strike, Lucius had Apparated away, his fellow cronies only seconds behind him.

With no prey left on the ground, the creature turned back to the subjects in the tree. But they were no longer in the tree. In the few seconds that it had taken for it to stalk and then loose Lucius, Tonks and Sirius had mounted their brooms and were hovering well out of reach. The beast made a few futile leaps into the air, swiping its claws, but unless it suddenly sprouted wings, there was no way it could reach them.

Not wanting to leave it to roam about and wreak havoc, Tonks kept her eye on it, trying to decide how to handle this monster, when it gave a pained yelp and fell, dead to the forest floor.

Looking to Sirius in search of a reason for the creature’s sudden death, Tonks did not find his wand out as she had expected, she found a man looking at her with an identical bewildered expression.

“So,” he said, “you didn’t kill it, then?”

Tonks shook her head no.

“That’s weird,” was all he said before flying back to the ground.

With a grace that one would not readily assign to a man that looked like Sirius Black did, he moved toward the body of the creature. He stepped lightly and cautiously, not taking its lack of movement for granted. His body was wound like a tightly coiled spring, ready to snap at a second’s notice, set for the unknowable, and yet, his movements were fluid and steady and taken with great care. Eyes never wavering from the being he was approaching, Sirius inched closer. He did not lower his wand, nor did he seem to breath.

Almost imperceptibly, at first, but quickly gathering strength, the body of the creature began to shift; it convulsed and jerked around on the leaf covered forest floor. Sirius stopped his approach and stood, staring at it appraisingly. It was changing, shrinking and shortening and smoothing until finally it lay still again, but this time it was not a creature or a monster, but a man.

Together, Tonks and Sirius stepped up to the figure lying on the ground, coated in leaves and twigs and dirt, sprawled out on his side, one arm covering half of his face. His clothes were ripped to nothing but shredded pieces of cloth and the skin of his fingers and chin was stained red with the blood of the Death Eaters. He looked savage and evil; he looked immoral and revolting.

Blank eyes stared up at them from under a mess of shaggy dark hair, a horrified and sad look in them, lost within bright orbits that would never again reflect an image, would never again squint in the sun, would never again shed a tear. What a waste, what a pathetic waste.

Using the toe of his boot, Sirius rolled the man from his awkward position on his side to his back. The strands of clumped and straggly hair fell away and his arm slid to his side.

F*ck!

“It’s McManus.”

A/N: This is a monster of an update, which is good, but it's also a bit fluffy, so sorry in advance. I was a bit blocked. Any criticsm is greatly appreciated! I like to know when I am veering into the Badlands. So come over to the cafe in Feedbackland (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?p=3544168#post3544168)and let me know if I've ventured into the bad place.


Chapter 14
Dancing


McManus’s death had not answered a single question for Tonks. If anything, it brought up more of them. It also brought more down time at work. With the subject of her only investigation dead, Tonks was not permitted to continue her work on the case. Never mind that he was murdered in some inexplicable way, that they still had no idea where he had been for the past two months, he was a Werewolf at death, but not one when he was reported missing (or if he was, the Ministry was unaware of it), or any of the other oddities that Tonks had pointed out to Scrimgeour upon his review of the case.

“Clearly, he had been bitten and left town to hide his condition. Untrustworthy, these creatures,” Scrimgeour had said, nearly causing Tonks to jump over his desk and beat the old man over the head with his ridiculous Interoffice Dueling Champion trophy.

Her orders from Dumbledore, however, had been to find out what had taken place in that cabin in the woods and to discover what exactly Lucius Malfoy and the Death Eaters had been doing to McManus. Unfortunately that meant that she had to get as much information on werewolf transformations as she could and since she only knew one werewolf, she was forced into doing something she really wished that she didn’t have to.

Remus sat in the chair nearest the fire at Number twelve, a tattered old book open on his lap. He looked peaceful; she hated to disturb him, especially with something so personal.

“Remus.”

He turned to look at her and smiled. “Hi.”

She smiled back, she couldn’t help it; he was so bloody adorable.

“What can I do for you, Tonks?”

“I…er…I need some help with this McManus business.”

He closed his book and looked away.

“I thought you might. What do you need to know?”

Tonks sat hard in a chair at the table and ran a hand through her hair (gold and pixie-cut), before managing to bring up the topic that she dreaded.

“How was he only partially transformed and how did it happen in the day? I know you can’t answer those questions, but maybe you can help me understand the mechanics of it.”

“Actually, Tonks, I am glad you asked.” He said, clearly switching to teacher mode. “This has been bothering me since your report and I have been thinking on it quite a bit. To be only partially transformed is very odd, indeed. I suppose an unborn child whose mother was bitten near the time of delivery might, and I stress the might, have acquired some of the characteristics of the curse, but not be a true werewolf. That is entirely speculative though because no child on record has ever survived such an attack.”

“But that was not in McManus’s file. If that were the case, the Ministry should have record of it.”

“Was he born in Britain?”

Tonks nodded, his file had claimed that he was.

“Did you ever get the report from the Healers?”

“No,” she said. “It was put in the file, but Scrimgeour closed and sealed it before I had a chance to read it.”

“Hmm,” Remus bit his lower lip thoughtfully before continuing. “As for transforming in the day; the light of the full moon as well as the magic of the full moon bring about the change. They work in conjunction with one another. I can hold off a transformation for a short while by avoiding direct moonlight, but once the moon is fully raised, the change will come regardless of the light. So I suppose if they could recreate the moonlight, they might get a werewolf to transform in the day, but without the magic of the rising moon, it might be only partial. I don’t know, really. Don’t see how they could re-create genuine moonlight.”

“You are adorable when you do that,” she said before she could stop herself. She blushed deeply, but didn’t bother to hide it.

“When I say I don’t know?” he asked, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.

“No, when you act like a professor.”

This time, it was his turn to blush.

“Too bad,” she added a moment later.

“What’s too bad?”

“That you were never my professor,” she said as she crossed the room and sat down right in his lap. “I have a thing for professors, didn’t I tell you?”

“Why, no, you never did. In that case, have fifty points for Gryffindor!”

“No wonder you got sacked!” Tonks laughed as she leaned in and kissed him.

Since that evening they had actually managed to dredge up some useful information, unfortunately they had yet to figure out what had happened to McManus or how, but they were far closer than she had ever been while working under Ministry authority. To be honest, she was happy to do it without the Ministry. They hadn’t exactly proved to be overly helpful anyway.

In fact, certain Ministry employees were being down right unhelpful.

Spectra Sherwood and Blaine Seacole were either unnaturally interested in her or they suspected her of wrong-doing because every time she stopped by their corner of the room they wanted to know how she was getting on, how was her family, was she dating, did she like Thai food? It was highly suspicious, as Sherwood was the only one to have shown any interest in Tonks and she had done it in a very aggressive, I-am-going-to-eat-you-alive sort of way. Now, they were completely out of character, not only by taking an interest in her life, but by doing it nicely.

Careful not to reveal anything suspicious, Tonks played along, acting as though she was happy to chat and just as interested in them as they were in her.

Seacole didn’t seem to buy it, but he was good about covering it. She almost missed his brief skeptic look as she rattled off her made-up interests. But it was there, however fleeting it may have been, and she saw it.

Great. Another person to keep my eye on.

Tonks found it irritating to keep up the niceties with people she didn’t like. It was like she was caught up in a complicated dance, in which she had to keep to the music with exact precision or risk being cut off at the legs. It was exhausting.

Tonks sat at her desk, trying to avoid Seacole, who she simply didn’t have the energy to dance with at the moment (having been awake all night staring at a door) and composed a letter to Damon McManus, brother of the deceased. Foolishly, she had not gotten around to writing to Damon after his brother went missing. It was a stupid oversight and she hated herself for it, but if he had had information to help her find his brother and was willing to share it, he would have come to her long ago. She didn’t hold out much hope for Damon, but she needed to talk to him, so she scribbled the last of the letter out, signed it and sent it off with a bored looking barn owl.

Well, that was a worry for another day, because come five o’clock, she had big plans and nothing was going to ruin them, not even the Ministry. Tonight was her second date with Remus. She had brain stormed and brain stormed about what they should do on this date, before having the perfect idea. It was all set now, all she had to do was convince him that it was a good idea. She was confidant that he would have a good time, in spite of himself perhaps, but a good time, nonetheless.

Unable to stop herself, Tonks left the Ministry building at half past four. A quick floo home, a shower and far too much time deciding what to wear, she found herself pulling open her front door and grinning stupidly at Remus.

“Come in.”

“I would really like to know what it is we are doing tonight.”

Tonks closed the door behind Remus and grinned evilly at him. “Well, if you must know…we are going to a concert.”

She was expecting a groan or a sigh or even for him to pinch the bridge of his nose, as if warding off a headache, like he did so often when speaking with Sirius, but he did none of those things. Instead, he simply stared, face impassive, without speaking.

Plowing forward, she said, “It’s a Weird Sisters concert.”

Again, he made no reaction.

“Look, I know you’re old but I didn’t realize you had lost your hearing already. I SAID, WE - ”

“Yes,” he interrupted. “I heard you. Why are we going to a Weird Sisters concert?” He asked, a kind of tired annoyance in his voice.

Oh, God. He’s rethinking this dating thing, isn’t he? He’s going to end it before it even starts and then everything is going to be awkward and we won’t be friends anymore. What was I thinking kissing him in the first place? Stupid girl!

“I just thought you might like to do something different, you know…” she trailed off and turned away from him, embarrassed. What had she been thinking? This man didn’t like rock music, he liked concertos and opera’s and…books.

“Hey,” he said softly. He had moved behind her without her even noticing and then he slipped his arms around her waist causing her to instinctively lean back against him. She felt him rest his head atop hers. “Sorry, I think a Weird Sisters concert sounds very fun.”

He was lying, she knew, but it was a considerate lie, meant to spare her feelings and she appreciated it.

“I always wondered what a Tonks was like in her natural habitat.” He chuckled lightly, “It’ll be like going on safari.”

“Oh, you are hilarious.” Tonks said sarcastically as she turned to face him and slipped her arms around his waist. Looking up into his face she grinned very sweetly, saying in the kindest voice she could muster, “Anyway, it couldn’t possibly be worse than your date.”

“Ouch. That stung.” He kissed her forehead and let go of her. “Let’s go destroy our eardrums, then.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

There were many perks to being an Auror; respect, excitement, travel, a free gym membership, but the best thing about being an Auror was permission to carry a wand anywhere at anytime.

Remus and Tonks stood just outside the doors to the club where the Weird Sisters were playing, having various parts of their persons prodded and poked by the security guards.

The large muscular woman, who was frisking Tonks, pulled a wand from inside Tonks’s boot and gave her a most reproachful look.

“You know you can’t have these in there. Should have left it at home, like your boyfriend,” the woman wheezed, nodding toward Remus.

“I can have it in there,” Tonks answered.

“You can, can you? Suppose you think you’re something special, eh? Probably some spoiled rich brat like all the rest. Well you can’t have your wand inside and no amount of Galleons is going to change that.”

“Actually,” Tonks started, but was cut of by the moody guard hollering for someone named Vern.

“Vern!” she bellowed and a short plump man appeared, a grumpy look on his face. “Take this wand and check it in,” she continued, holding up Tonks’s wand.

“You don’t want to - ”

But it was too late. The wand had started to vibrate and spit gold sparks and within seconds long thick ropes were climbing up the woman’s arms like a vine. They reached her shoulder and wrapped tightly around her middle, pinning her arms to her body and working their way to her legs.

The woman screamed and dropped the wand, but the vines continued to wrap around her until she toppled over, looking like a weird rope bowling pin. Tonks’s wand jiggled once more, flopped up and flew to her out stretched hand.

Vern smiled and said, “Auror, eh? That’s the best protection charm I’ve seen in a long time. ‘Ad an Auror in ‘ere a few nights back, blinding charm on ‘is wand. Effective, but not as funny.”

Tonks smiled and released the woman from her bindings before turning to find Remus.

He was leaning against the building a few feet away, his long legs crossed at the ankles, an amused grin tugging the corners of his mouth.

“Is that how you are supposed to be using your special privileges?” He asked as they entered the club and crossed to the bar.

“What is the point of having a charmed wand, if you can’t have a little fun with it? Besides, that was nothing, you should see what Mad-Eye’s does. Ouch!” She made a scared face and pointed at the front of his pants. “It’s very frightening.”

“Remind me not to get within a hundred feet of Mad-Eye’s wand. Ever.”

A few large Firwhiskeys later and they were standing very near the back of the music hall, just outside the gyrating crowd listening to the band tear into their third song.

As the music picked up and as the crowd immersed itself deeper and deeper into the rhythmic beat, Tonks could no longer stand stationary beside her begrudging companion. She needed to move, to dance, to be in the swaying and rocking crowd. They were an entity unto themselves, a sea of bodies moving as one, and she should be part of it. Even if Remus wasn’t going to dance, she was, and she would make him painfully aware of it.

Slowly, she started to rock to the beat. She swayed and moved her hips slightly, inching into the crowd in front of them. Remus didn’t seem to notice her departure; he was watching the people, in their ragged capes and threadbare jumpers. Whatever he was thinking, was a mystery to her, but he was not smiling nor did he seem to be having a good time.

We’ll just have to fix that, then, won’t we?

Standing at the edge of the crush of dancers, Tonks closed her eyes; feeling the music, seeing the beat in her mind, she rocked more dramatically now, moving to the sound of the bass guitar and the drums. Moving her lips, she silently sang along, raising her hands above her head, she drummed at nothing.

This is a great song.

There were people all around her, bumping into her, brushing against her. It was hot and loud and musty, but she didn’t care, she even kind of liked the closeness of it, of being lost in a crowd, being invisible among the mob. Even Remus could appreciate that.

Remus.

Opening her eyes, she only had to search for a second before she found him, only a few feet away, watching her. Their eyes met. He was walking towards her. She continued to dance as she watched him move between the few people that separated them. He stopped only breaths away and she immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Dance with me.”

“You do know you’re killing me, right?”

“Of course.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was nearly two in the morning when they reached Tonks’s house. Tired and hungry, they stumbled into the kitchen in search of something to eat. There wasn’t much, as she had not had the time or energy for several weeks to go to the shops and actually buy food. Molly always fed her anyway.

Settling for toast and a bag of crisps, Tonks flopped herself on the couch, Remus close behind her with his crisps and two glasses of firewhiskey in his hands, and a piece of toast clutched in his teeth.

“Oh, sorry,” she said, taking the firewhiskys and setting his on the coffee table. She sipped heavily on her smoking glass and grinned as the warm liquid flowed down her throat.

“That was fun,” Remus said as he plopped onto the couch beside her.

“Yes, you surprised me. Who knew you were such a good dancer?”

“I surprised myself. But I had fun. Thank you.”

Blushing severely, she looked directly at her glass, unable to look him in the eyes. She had a goofy, stupid grin on her face and it embarrassed her, but she couldn’t make it go away. Damn him for making her feel all silly and girly. She hated to feel girly.

An arm came to rest around her shoulders and pulled her against a lean chest. Turning into him, Tonks wrapped an arm around his middle and snuggled against him, her head at his shoulder. He smelled good, like soap; clean, scrubbed.

They sat like that for a very long time, just being there, being together. They hardly spoke and Remus occasionally kissed her head or her temple, but that was all. It was nice. Somehow just sitting there, enjoying the closeness, was enough. She reveled in it, in the simplicity of it. Nothing in her life had ever been simple, nothing, but in some strange way the ease and comfort that came with Remus, that came from being with Remus, balanced everything else, it balanced all of the complication in every other aspect of her life.

“Remus?”

“Yes.”

“What are we?”

“Well, Nymphadora, we are a witch and a wizard. Technically, a part of the Homo sapiens genus and species as the Mug - ”

“Shut up. I meant you and I.”

She felt him sigh and it was a moment before he spoke again. “Look, I -”

“No,” she interrupted, sitting up and sliding away from him. “I’m sorry. That was unfair; I should not have asked such an awkward question. Ignore it.”

“No.” He grabbed her arm and turned her to him. “You are right to ask. But, I just don’t have proper answer for you. I like you, obviously.” He ran a nervous hand through his hair. “It’s just that I’m not used to women wanting to be with me. Romantic hazard of being a werewolf.”

“You don’t owe me any explanations, Remus. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“But I need to say it. I want this, want us, but I don’t know how. I don’t even know if it’s right to dump my problems on you. You don’t deserve to have to deal with all this.”

Smiling through the cold dread sitting at the bottom of her stomach, Tonks looked him square in the eyes. “Sure feels right.”

Remus looked down at his hands, his head drooping slightly. “That’s why it’s so scary.”

Resuming her position against his chest, Tonks sighed and inhaled that smell of soap again. “For the record; I want this too, want us.”

His arms tightened around her and she looked up to see him watching her with a kind of scared delight in his expression. She didn’t know how he could be feeling such conflicting emotions, but apparently one of them won out over the other because in a matter of seconds he was placing chaste little kissed against her lips, her cheeks, her neck.

Before she knew what was happening, he had shifted his weight so that they were lying side by side, squished nose to nose to keep from falling off the couch and his lips had found hers again, but this time they weren’t letting go.

Morning came far too soon for Tonks’s taste. She had been enjoying herself there on her couch wrapped up in Remus’s arms. They had made quite the sport out of kissing. If there were some kind of endurance snogging competition, they would have won, easy as pie. They had been there for hours, just kissing and laughing and it had been wonderful. But as is always the way, every good thing must come to an end, and so, regretfully, sadly, she untangled herself from Remus as lightly and quietly as possible and slipped up to the loo, wishing that she didn’t have to go to work that day and dance her deceitful, exhausting little dance.


And a HUGE thanks to Celtmama for the idea of them going to a Weird Sisters concert! YAY :clap:

Please note that there are references to the latest post of Celtmama's Missing Moments (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=92540) in this chapter (well, part of a chapter anyway). If you have not read it, do so now! You will be so happy you did and you'll get the jokes.

And this is another monster of an update, but I couldn't find a place to cut it off, so you lucked out again. Sheesh.


Chapter 15
Shades of Gray


December managed to sneak up on Tonks and Remus. The twelfth month hit, bringing with it snow and bitter winds. The sky was perpetually tinged gray and white and everything seemed to turn the color of iron. Amid all of the lifeless drabness, however, something colorful and bright (aside from Tonks’s hair) had engulfed them. They had found themselves knee deep in the politics of having a working relationship and a relationship that worked and, though certainly difficult, it was wonderful.

They had both agreed that no one, aside from those who already knew (Sirius had finally weaseled it out of Remus, and Dumbeldore smiled brightly every time they walked in or out of a room together), should be made aware of the nature of their relationship. The reason being: the simple matter of group dynamics. If the entire Order were to know that Remus and Tonks had been having a romantic relationship for the past three months it would create awkward situations and neither wanted to try to explain or justify their relationship to anyone. All in all; it was just easier to keep it to them selves.

As for the relationship itself, all was great. Tonks had never been so happy in her life. Sure, they had the occasional argument, usually about Tonks’s risk taking at work or Sirius’s constant prodding, but on the whole, they got on very well. They spent at least three nights a week at Tonks’s house. They ordered take away and picnicked on the tiny patch of grass in her back garden, they visited the Leaky Cauldron for drinks, they went to Muggle movies (Remus had a penchant for older ones made entirely in shades of gray), they stayed in and listened to the wireless, but mostly they just enjoyed each others company. It was perfect and she soon found herself wondering how she ever lived without him, without their time together, without the way he mades her feel.

Tonks had fallen for Remus J. Lupin, and fallen hard. She had not yet said the three magic words, but she felt them. She had said it before, with other boyfriends, but this time it was harder to vocalize. This time it was for real. She was no longer a kid full of ideals and impossible dreams, as she had been with the others. This was it and she was scared to death of losing what they had built by pushing him.

She didn’t doubt Remus’s feelings for her, he loved her, she was sure of it. She could feel it. He had not yet said I love you either, but something in the way he touched her, the way he looked at her, the way he smiled at her, told her that he did. It was clear in the way his eyes always found her first in a crowded room, the way his hand always found the small of her back when they walked, or the spot at the nape of her neck to let his fingers play with the hair there. It was evident in his mannerisms, but mannerisms can only reveal so much, and somehow, even with all of the little things, there was some part of him that was holding back. There was a tiny piece of him, a shaded area, that wouldn’t allow him to get in too deep. She knew where it originated from, knew that a part of him feared what they had together because of is lycanthropy, but she was powerless to stop it. That was his demon and he had to slay it himself, or it would never cease to haunt him.

While her relationship was moving along at a happy pace, work seemed to be caught in a time warp. Nothing had changed in months. The Auror’s were still in a holding pattern because of Fudge’s denial about Voldemort, Pyle, Sherwood and Seacole were still unnaturally nice to Tonks, even going so far as too bring her in on the few cases that they did get, but there had been no mention of Fudge’s fictional Dumbedore’s Army from anyone and she had been entirely unable to locate Damon McManus, even with the Order’s help. It was maddening. The only remotely interesting thing was the ridiculous Educational Decrees and the reaction to them by the students.

Dung had returned from Hogsmeade with the story of how the Troublesome Trio had organized a secret Defense Against the Dark Arts group right under the Ministry’s nose and Sirius had laughed long and hard over it, impressed by their boldness and their realization of how dire the situation really was. He was quite proud of them and Tonks found that she agreed. Remus was concerned by the possible ramifications should they be caught, as any former Professor would be, but the Marauder in him won out and he too delighted in the conspiracy of it all.

“Had to be Hermione’s idea,” Remus had said.

Everyone had agreed on that point, no way would Ron or Harry, oblivious teenage boys that they were, recognize what exactly Umbridge was doing. Sirius had made a few short floos into Gryffindor common room to talk with Harry and the others and confirmed that Hermione had indeed been the mastermind behind it all.

“Are you sure Tonks is the one for you, Remus?” Sirius had said, his chair tipped back on two legs, hands casually behind his head, smirk firmly in place. “Hermione’s much more brainy like you. Don’t you think - ”

THWACK!

Remus had smacked Sirius on the back of his head, causing him to fall forward, the chair crashing back down onto all four legs.

“Oy, Moony! That hurt.”

“Good.”

Tap tap tap.

Outside the window, a shivering owl pecked at the glass, its head covered in snow and ice. Tonks crossed the kitchen, smacking Sirius on the head for good measure as she passed him (“Ow, Nymphadora!”), and let the large brown bird inside. It flapped its snow-covered wings a moment on the counter before holding out its leg. Tonks untied the roll of parchment and frowned to herself.

“What is it?” Remus asked as she read.

“My mum has changed the Christmas party to tonight instead of tomorrow. Apparently she forgot to tell me.”

“That’s alright, isn’t it?” Remus asked.

“Yeah, I suppose. Sorry, Sirius. We won’t be able to do dinner and Gob Stones tonight.”

Sirius looked like someone had just hit him with a bludger, but attempted to shrug it off.

Hot boiling guilt immediately started to eat away at Tonks’s chest. It was so unfair; it was disgustingly painful to see him withered and broken like that and then to add to it. She and Remus had been trying very hard to keep him in high (or at least moderate) spirits. They had been setting evenings to stay at Grimmauld and play Gob Stones or Exploding Snap or a Muggle drinking game called Liars Dice, during which Remus always won and Sirius always cheated. But even with the companionship that they offered, he slipped into his depressions so easily that it was a constant effort to keep him above water.

“I’ll be here on Christmas,” Remus added. “And I’ve spoken to Molly about borrowing Harry for a bit. She doesn’t see why it should be a problem.”

This seemed to brighten Sirius’s mood and by the time they left, he was somber, but not miserable, so at least they had done that much.

They Apparated to Tonks’s house to grab the gifts and change clothes before flooing to her parents home in France.

“Tonks,” Remus grabbed her arm before she could drop the floo powder. “I…erm…how many people are going to be there?”

“No that many. Don’t be nervous.”

Merlin, he’s cute when he’s nervous.

“You will be there as a guest of my mother’s, not as my date. It will be fine.” Tonks smiled reassuringly at him.

He let go of her arm, but his face looked unconvinced.

Two flashes of green fire later and they were standing in Mr. and Mrs. Tonks’ Fire. They were in a comfortable room, with large floral couches, many candles, and heavily filled bookcases. Christmas carols filled the air, distorted by the chatter of voices, the room was empty. The voices were wafting in from some other part of the house.

“That’s weird,” said Tonks, having a good look around.

“What’s weird?”

“We’re in the sitting room upstairs, but the floo network is hooked up to the living room fire, which is downstairs.”

“Why was it rerouted?”

Tonks shook her head, looking just as confused as he was.

“Where is everyone?” Remus asked.

“Downstairs it sounds like.” She motioned for him to follow, but when they reached the bottom of the stairs, both stopped short. Remus looked at Tonks, a bit disconcerted. There were nearly thirty people there, milling about, talking, drinking, and having a good time. To add insult to injury, all were wearing Muggle clothes.

“I thought you said ‘not many.’”

“Quick! Back upstairs!” She ushered him back into the sitting room and closed the door. “We’ll have to transfigure our robes. I wasn’t expecting my Dad’s family to be here.” She gave him an apologetic smile.


“Yeah.” He did not look thrilled.
“Explains the fire though.”

A few quick waves of her wand and Tonks was wearing a shimmering red dress. She scrunched up her face and tried to match her hair to the shade of red in the dress, but when she opened her eyes it was just off the mark enough too make it clash with the shimmer of the fabric. Trying again, she concentrated and morphed it long and silvery blonde.

Remus wrinkled his nose at her. “Too Veela. Unless of course you’re looking to trap Bill in a deserted classroom and have your way with him,” he said as though commenting on the weather.

Frozen in place, Tonks stared, eyes widened. It was a moment before she was able to speak again, but all that came out was, “You…er…. what…all lies…. that ******* Bill.”

“Don’t blame Bill for spilling the truths of your sordid past,” he said, ignoring her scornful frown. “Sirius was trying to cheer me up that night after you were attacked in the alley and he did it by liquoring the poor bloke up and digging for information. It was his way of drawing out the truth about us and taking my mind off of…er…things.”

A shrewd look passed over Tonks’s face; she flipped her hair and smiled. “Take your mind off of what, exactly?”

“Nothing,” he said, flustered and blushing. “Anyway, he told us about your…er…habit of tricking men into believing they were kissing other people.”

“Oh, no you don’t. Back the broom up a minute. ‘Nothing,’ eh?” She advanced on him, taking only a second to change her hair so that it was the color of golden honey and curled around her shoulders. “You needed cheering up from Sirius “I am so depressed I depress myself” Black because of nothing?”

He was stepping back from her as she approached him, but he soon found himself tripped up by the couch. He landed on it with a soft thump and looked up to see Tonks standing, hands on hips, over him.

“Come on, mister. Spill it.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll call for my mother and snog you senseless until she finds us.”

“No you won’t,” he said, starting to rise from the couch.

“Right,” Tonks said as he pushed him back down to sitting and palced herself in his lap. She grabbed a fistful of his collar and smiled wickedly.

“Olly, please go get my mother,” she said, and a small large-eyed House-Elf whipped across the room and vanished out the door.

“See,” she said, leaning in to him. “I have no shame.”

Her lips were on his, hot and soft and so inviting. Judging by the way he responded to her, Tonks was certain that he didn’t care how precarious the position they were found in, but then his brain function kicked back in and he managed to make his voice work.

“No,” he seemed to force himself to say, pushing her back. “Stop it, you evil siren!”

Pretending to be insulted, Tonks slid sideways and settled herself next to him on the couch.

“If you must know,” he said, clearly annoyed and not meeting her eye. “I was very afraid for you, okay. I was blaming myself and there was a moment there, in that alley, when I didn’t think I had been fast enough. I thought you were going to die…and…it scared me more than I had expected it to.”

Remus looked away, as if ashamed, but a hand on his cheek pulled his gaze back to her face.

“Thank you. For everything,” she said, not really needing to explain that everything ment far more then helping her that day in the alley. He knew what she ment, he understood her like no one ever had.

Once again, their lips met, but this time it was sweet and tender and full of meaning, full of promise. That did not, however, make the kisses any less passionate.

Suddenly, the door burst open and a tall, black haired woman was standing in the doorway.

“Dora!” the woman called as she rushed up to them and threw her arms around Tonks, apparently oblivious to the fact that they were very nearly snogging eachother senseless.

“Janet. How are you?”

“I’m good,” the woman called Janet said, still holding onto Tonks’s hands. She looked up and noticed Remus sitting next to Tonks. “Oh, is this the new boyfriend?”

“Well, I…er…my,” Tonks stammered, having no idea how to answer that question.

“Yes,” Remus said casually offering his hand to Janet. “Remus Lupin.”

“Nice to meet you, Remus. Well, we should get back to the party. Your mum sent me up here. Said you wandered off earlier. I didn’t even know you’d come in.”

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Janet smiled and gave Tonks another hug.

“I promised Auntie Andy I would help with the salad, so we’ll catch up later.” She winked at Tonks and went straight into the kitchen.

“Boyfrind, eh?” Tonks said, grinning in spite of her effort to be casual.

“You were drowning. I thought I’d tell her what she wants to hear.”

Tonks shook her head. “You are in trouble now. It is only a matter of seconds before the entire room knows or, thinks rather, that you are my boyfriend.”

“Am I not?”

“Well, it’s about time Remus J Lupin. I thought you’d live in denial forever!” She smiled at him before giving him a playful punch in the arm.

“Nana!” Came a man’s voice from behind them and Tonks quickly winked at Remus before turning and smiling very broadly at the man approaching her.

“Dad!”

Mr. Tonks was a tall broad man with light brown hair and a pleasant expression. He wore a silly pointed Christmas hat on his head and a hideous red and green jumper with bells all over it that jingled whenever he moved. Remus could instantly see where Tonks got her happy-go-lucky attitude. Her sense of humor may have been her mother’s, but her sense of self was definitely her father’s.

He hugged his daughter and kissed her cheek before turning to Remus. “So, you’re Nana’s new chap, eh?”

“Yes, sir.” Remus said, trying to work out why in the world he was referring to Tonks as Nana.

“Ted, call me Ted,” he said, before narrowing his eyes at Remus. “How old are you?”

“Dad! Inappropriate!” Tonks cut in before Remus had a chance to look or act uncomfortable. “Dad, I love you, I’ll come talk with you later, but right now Remus and I are going to find Mum.” She leaned in to give him another hug and whispered in his ear so Remus couldn’t hear, “Don’t make him uncomfortable, Daddy, or I will tell Mum everything that you say, except I’ll lie and make it worse.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” He gave her a surprised, but playful look.

“Watch me,” she said as she pulled out of their hug.

“You win, Nym, you win.” He put both hands up in surrender. “Nice to meet you, Remus. We’ll talk later.”

With a final half-menacing look at her father, Tonks led Remus away.

“Is he going to kill me?”

“Probably,” she said before realizing that he was actually very nervous looking. “Hey, it’s your fault for telling Janet that you’re my boyfriend.”

“Who is this Janet person who makes trouble and interrupts good snogs?”

“My cousin. Daughter of my dad’s sister. Muggle.”

“Right,” he said, nodding.

Inside the kitchen, they found that Andromeda and several other people were speaking in hushed tones, their heads bent in together, as though sharing a great secret. They all went dead silent the second Tonks and Remus entered the room.

And so it starts. Note to self: kill mother.

“Remus!” said Andromeda, her arms outstretched. She wrapped him in a hug. “It is so good to see you.”

Tonks raised her eyebrows at Remus as if to ask why he got special treatment.

“And you,” he said truthfully.

“Happy Christmas, Nymphadora,” her mother said as she turned to hug her as well.

“Happy Christmas, Mum.”

“Nymphadora, have you met Audrey’s new friend?” She made sure to emphasize the last word in an effort to clearly convey that the friend in question was suspected of being more than just a friend.

Tonks rolled her eyes as her mother ushered over a scared-looking fellow of no older than seventeen. Her cousin Audrey, who was only just sixteen, stood next to him casting pleading looks in Tonks’s direction.

“This is Steven. Steven this is Nymphadora. Oh and this is her friend, Remus.”

Oh, for the sake of Dumbledore! This is ridiculous.

“My boyfriend, Mum.”

“Well, well! I had no idea,” said Andromeda, entirely unconvincingly. “Good to hear it! I always did like you, Remus.”

“Anyway,” Tonks interrupted. “Audrey, I think Kenneth was looking for you. In the living room.”

Immediately jumping on the opportunity for escape that Tonks was offering, the girl grabbed her friend’s hand and disappeared into another part of the house.

“I didn’t know Kenneth was here,” Andromeda said.

“He’s not,” Tonks told her mother. “I just said that so the poor girl could get out of the lion’s den. Honestly, is it really that fun to torture young couples until they run away screaming?”

“Nymphadora, have you said hello to your gran?” Andromeda said, ignoring her daughter’s question.

“Hi Gran.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Somehow, miraculously, they managed to make it until dinner without running afoul of any of Tonks’s relatives, something that she had always found difficult, especially with Gran running amok.

Gran was a small wrinkled old Muggle woman with a heavy cane and a mouth like a crow. She spouted off about anything and everything with a fervor more often found in the very young or the very drunk. Tonks was often compared to her, which mostly only succeeded in making her self-conscious.

Andromeda, Ted and Tonks were cleaning and organizing the leftovers from dinner and Andromeda had insisted that Remus, as a guest, do nothing to help. Tonks, however, was hovering near enough to the table to listen to the conversation between Remus and her Gran, while pretending to help wipe the counters. It was a matter of Remus’s safety; really, Gran could be down right vicious, even for a Muggle.

She needn’t have worried. Remus was charming and wonderful. So much so that even her father took to him right away. This didn’t keep Gran from being her naturally nosey and confrontational self, though it did hold her off for a while.

“You’re a wizard, then?” She had asked as they sat in the kitchen after all of the guests had left.

“Yes, ma’am, I am. But, like you and your son, my mother was a Muggle.”

“Really? Well, isn’t that interesting. Your father, was he from a family like Andy’s?”

Tonks knew Remus could see her mother’s back go rigid and her neck stiffen. Mention of her family, on such a holiday, was not what she wanted to hear.

“No,” he answered blandly. “Far less wealthy and far less honored. Just a normal working bunch, the Lupins. My father worked for the Ministry and my mother was a housewife. Not unlike the Muggle side of my family.” Remus did his best to stear the conversation back to Muggle related topics and avoid any further mention of the Black family.

His bit if diversion worked and before long they were all seated around the table chatting well into the night about a myriad of topic, none of which were Black family dynamics.

“Where did you get those scars?” Gran asked suddenly, her eyes fixed on the thin lines peeking out from beneath Remus’s collar, and then shifting to the ones criss crossing his wrists just beyond his cuffs.

Tonks and Andromeda looked up sharply, both about to speak, bit Remus cut them off.

“Angry puppy,” he said with a wry grin.

However, for the second time that day, a series of taps at the window interrupted the conversation.

Two owls were perched outside the window frantically knocking at the glass, apparently deperate to deliver their letters.

Andromeda was on her feet first and admitted the twittering birds to the kitchen. Tonks knew at once that the letters were for she and Remus. The first owl, which she recognized as Kingsley’s flew to her and landed right in her lap, nipping at her fingers; the second owl, which she knew to be one of Mad-Eye’s, landed on Remus’s shoulder and pulled at his hair until he untied the letter.

Both hurriedly read their letters as the others looked on, taken aback and looking concerned.

“We have to go,” Tonks said.

“Now,” Remus finished.

Both were on their feet and at the base of the stairs before anyone else could react. They heard a muffled “Be careful” as they ran up the stairs, skipping two or three at a time. Tonks was in the fire; ready to go when Remus caught her arm to stall her.
“What?”

“Your clothes.”

With a glance down, Tonks sighed. It was a beautiful dress; she hated to have to take it off so soon. A quick wave of her wand and she was in her boring gray robes again. Okay, well technically they were silver, but compared to the shiny red, they might as well be grey.

“For what it’s worth,” Remus said as he released his grip on her arm. “You looked beautiful tonight.”

Sparing only a second, Tonks planted a quick kiss on his mouth and smiled.

“When this crisis is over, you and I have a date with a comfy couch and a red dress that I may or may not be wearing.”

Not even the brilliant green flames of the floo could have melted the smiles of of either of their faces.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~
A/N: The reference to the "Angry Puppy" was shamelessly stolen from Joss "Genius" Wheadon's Buffy the Vampire Slayer series. I don't normally steal jokes or lines unless they are painfully obvious or cliche, but this one was too good not to use. If you want, I can explain the context it was used in on the Feedback thread. Just ask. Thanks for reading!

A/N: Okay, I'm back and I hope you all like the new chapter. A HUGE THANK YOU to Celtmama for her help and advice! *hugs*


Chapter 16
Love and War



The letters that found Tonks and Remus had only hinted at trouble, but in a war like the one they were walking into, when there was a risk of post being intercepted by enemies, even a hint written in a letter meant big things - it meant crisis. Tonks knew this, as she rushed out of the fire into Kingsley’s kitchen with Remus hot on her heels. She just didn’t know that what had happened would hit so d*mn close to home.

She and Remus sat among the other Order members and listened as Mad-Eye did his best to recount the events of the evening and what had happened to Arthur Weasley. It was disturbing how much the whole mess frightened her. She was an Auror, a trained and capable dark wizard catcher; feelings of fear and heartache were not welcome and certainly not acceptable.

She chanced a glance at Remus. He was listening intently, his stare fixed on Mad-Eye and his hands stuffed deep inside his pockets. He looked distressed. She hated to see him like that, preferred instead to see him happy, smiling. He was so cute when he smiled.

Tonks shook her head; this was not the time to be thinking about Remus and his smile. She really was concerned about Arthur, possibly more than she ought to be, given that she was supposed to be clinical and detached when it came to on-the-job injuries. Normally, this sort of thing would not have fazed her. She had seen plenty of injuries, strange spell-work and unparalleled cruelty done to her Auror colleagues and had always managed to move past it without incident. Tonks was a master at compartmentalizing her emotions when necessary.

So, she shut down the emotions and listened to Mad-Eye.

His report was fairly short, a nuts-and-bolts overview which led her to suspect that there was more to the story than he was widely broadcasting. This suspicion was confirmed when both she and Remus were asked to stay behind after the group was dismissed. Kingsley and Bill (who looked white as a ghost, but remained stoic) also stayed in their seats, waiting for Mad-Eye to reveal whatever it was that he would not tell the others. They did not have to wait long, as “General Moody” was clearly a man of no patience.

“Albus asked that you all be informed of the reason Arthur was found so quickly. It appears that Harry had a dream or possibly a vision of Arthur being attacked. He woke in a panic, Minerva was summoned and she took him and Ron to Albus. Upon further investigation, the events had indeed happened exactly as the boy described,.”

“So it’s Voldemort, then?” Remus said sadly.

“It seems so,” Mad-Eye stated. “The boy says he was inside the snake. Either he is inadvertently seeing into You-Know-Who’s mind or You-Know-Who is somehow possessing him.”

Silence stretched out between them, no one knowing what to say next, no one really sure about what that meant. No further discussion of Harry went on; instead, they devised a plan of action.

Now that Arthur was known by Voldemort to be a member of the Order of the Phoenix, his family was in immediate danger. Precautions had to be taken and the family needed to visit Arthur, but traveling unescorted was out of the question. Remus and Kingsley were assigned to secure the burrow against intrusion and search for any sign of Death Eater activity. Tonks and Mad-Eye would take Molly and the kids to visit Arthur later in the day.

They finalized the arrangements and Bill immediately left to give his mother a break and a chance to visit the rest of the family. Remus and Kingsley were right behind him on their way to secure the Burrow. Remus shot Tonks a sad and slightly defeated smile before closing the door behind them. She watched him go and it felt like a tiny piece of her was being detached, like she was losing something. He looked beaten and a little sorrowful, much like he looked after a full moon. He always had a hollow and broken kind of look in his eyes the morning following a transformation. Well, almost always.

The streets were just starting to ice over with frost and the air had that certain nip to it that announced without remorse or apology that winter had officially arrived before fall. It was nearly morning and a bitter wind was sweeping through the trees, chilling any spot of exposed skin it could find. Tonks pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders and willed her booted feet to carry her the last few steps to where she knew a concealed door was built into the leaf laden ground. There was a man behind that door, well, at least there would be in about one minute.

Remus had been forced to retreat to the hidden bunker in the woods when Snape had been unable to provide Wolfsbane potion this month. It was a blow to Remus’s poise and composure, she knew; though he refused to admit as much, she suspected that he had become quite used to the benefits of the potion. Suddenly not having it had been awkward for him, as if he felt like less of a man.

He had been distant in the week before the moon and she knew it was because of his personal feelings about what he was, about being a werewolf, a werewolf who was dating a Metamorphmagus. It made Tonks laugh. She saw only the man, only Remus John Lupin. For her, the wolf was nothing more than a recurring cold that required isolation and a day or two of rest.

A twig crunched underfoot and her boot struck metal, sending her diving to the dirt. She landed, face first onto the steel door with a clang and an “Ow.”

Picking herself back up, she checked the sky and found it pleasantly moon free. The locking charms were no problem and she was heaving the heavy door open in no time. She heard no howls or growling, so all must have been well.

The chamber was dark and musty. There was no furniture or objects of any kind, only cold stone floor and brick and earth walls. She caught the faint smell of blood and hair, but it was barely a whisper of scent.

‘He must have cleaned up.’ She knew that the wolf would have been taking out its blood lust on itself and that the chamber should have been far gorier this morning. But it would be just like Remus to clean up first thing, especially with her coming to take care of him. ‘Let’s not forget the pants incident.’

Smiling to herself, Tonks called a hello into the darkness.

“Hi,” came a weak but alert voice.

“Are you decent?”

“Depends on your definition of decent.”

She smiled to herself. It was lovely to have him back.

“Oh, good. I have no shame or standards, so it would follow that my idea of decent is rather low. I’m coming back there, now.”

“Erm…no…wait. Just a minute,” he said, slightly panicked. There was the sound of slow shuffling and a few pained groans before he said, “Okay. Hurry up so you can leave again.”

Tonks chuckled to herself and lit the tip of her wand to see in the darkness of the space.

“Where are you?” she asked through the shadows.

“Through the door.”

On the far wall stood another heavy door, this one opened and emitting the soft glow of candlelight. Tonks passed through it and found herself in a large comfortable room. A bed stood at the far end and a couch surrounded by shelves of books sat near the door. There was a fire with a cauldron and a teapot, a pile of folded blankets and robes, a wireless, a small writing desk. It was very nice, nicer than Tonk’s own house in fact.

“Wotcher, Remus.”

The man that she had come to see was seated on the couch, bare-chested, with a blanket across his lap and a book resting next to him. He smiled at her through his weariness.

“Well, Mr. Lupin, I will be your nurse today and possibly tomorrow. Now tell me where it hurts.”

He rolled his eyes at her, but the annoyance he was trying to project was betrayed by the smile on his lips.

“Molly sent this,” she held up a jar of thick green slop. “She said it would help with the pain.”

Remus grimaced to signify that he knew what it was and was not at all pleased by its presence in the room.

“But,” Tonks continued, “My mum sent this.” She held up a light pink and glowing liquid and was swishing it around a little in the bottle when she saw his eyes widen.

“The Expers potion? But where…the Dardrine root is nearly impossible to get in London.”

“My parents are chief Healers of a French Hospital, Remus. Now take your medicine like a good boy.”

Tonks uncapped the bottled and poured a small amount into a cup from her bag of supplies and handed it to him. Remus drank it immediately, almost hungrily, undoubtedly anxious for it to start working.

Tonks emptied a generous amount of the glowing liquid onto a soft cloth and knelt in front of him. Slowly, gently she began to dab the potion across the raised red welts that covered his body. He tried to push her away at first, to take the cloth and do it himself, but she simply refused. At this moment she was far stronger and he could no more force her into relinquishing the painkiller than he could force her hair to turn green.

She gently traced the lines of new wounds with old wounds and wondered why these had healed, when the ones he had sustained months ago at the hands of the others had taken so long to heal.

“They healed because they are self inflicted,” he said as though reading her mind. “I can’t re-curse myself.”

With much care, she continued to run the soothing potion over his chest, his arms, legs, his back. Within moments he was visible stronger. He looked more awake, more relaxed, he almost looked normal again.

Tonks was surprised that he let her care for him so soon after a transformation. He was so private about his condition that in two months of dating, he had rarely talked about it. She had been the one to question him, which he tolerated, but she suspected it annoyed him and he only spoke about it in an educational capacity; mostly when it applied to Order business. Now, he was letting her fix it, fix what he wouldn’t discuss on a personal level. Somehow it was wildly intimate, taking away his pain, helping him to heal.

Gently, she passed the cloth over his left shoulder where the oldest of all his scars gleamed in the candlelight, the original and the worst. That scar was the driving force in his life, the reason behind the man. For one split second she loved that scar, loved it for what it had inspired that man to become, loved it for being the reason that Remus was who he was.

Softly, Tonks found herself pressing a small kiss against one of the sunken and brutal pockets where the wolf’s teeth had punctured. Remus stiffened and pulled away, looking curiously at her, an almost disgusted shadow in his eyes. The disgust was not directed at her, that she knew. It reflected, instead, how he felt about the scars, what they meant to him. Why couldn’t he see the beauty in this part of him, why was he so ashamed and revolted by his scars?

Carefully, Tonks took his arm and followed a jagged old scar with her finger until it intersected another and then another, before it finally led back to the deep rivets in his shoulder. Like a map leading home, the lines on his body wove and crossed finally finding their way. Now, if only Remus could find his way.

She placed a soft kiss on a patch of undamaged skin and then one on a raised welt of scar tissue. Remus twitched again, uncomfortable wit h the attention she was giving his scars.

Touching a smooth, unmarked spot of skin and then one of the long red welts, Tonks said, “They’re the same to me, I love them.”

“They’re ugly.”

“No,” she said, leaving another soft kiss, this time on his neck, “They are part of you and they are beautiful.”

He didn’t speak, nor did he pull away. He simply sat, wary and confused while Tonks used fingers and lips to map all the scars of his body. It was hard to keep herself together, to keep her composure. Being that close to him, physically and emotionally made her skin prickle and her hands shake. The mere presence of him was making her breath catch in her throat, and when his palms came to rest on her thighs; she nearly fell off of the couch at his touch.

For all of his protests, Remus was not nearly as disturbed by her behavior as he had been. The quickness of his breaths gave him away and the way his fingers moved in small circles on her knees made her blood boil.

Just when she thought that she could take no more, Remus’s lips crashed against hers and she found herself entwined in his arms, and they were moving; a scrambled and intense jumble of hands and arms and legs until the fell together onto the bed.

“Ow,” he moaned.

“Oh, I’m sorry!”

“It’s alright, I’m just still a bit sore.”

Carefully, Tonks propped a pillow under his head and curled in beside him. There was something perfectly sweet about that, about the way they lay there, nose to nose, talking and kissing and for the first time in months, Tonks did not spend even a second of her day thinking of the war or of Voldemort or of the Minstry. In fact, she didn’t think of anything other than Remus and the way that he made her feel; of what that meant to her; of what he meant to her.


~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I wanted to call this chapter Snake Snacks, but I thought that was mean to Arthur. :D

The Place To Be (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?p=3544168#post3544168)

A/N: Sorry, but this post is seperated weird. I should have posted this first bit at the end of last week's post, but I messed up. Ooops!. Enjoy and visit me at the Feedback Diner. (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?p=3544168#post3544168)

THANK YOU CELTMAMA FOR YOUR HELP!



Shaking her head and reemerging from her trip down memory lane, Tonks was surprised to find herself on her own couch. She vaguely remembered agreeing to meet Mad-Eye at Grimmauld Place later in the day, but the trip home was lost to her vivid memories.

That day, there in the chamber room, had been a defining moment for them; it had solidified them as a unit, as a pair. Other just such encounters followed when they were able to get away from their responsibilities. Those days and nights spent together were untouchable; on those nights there was no pain or death or fear. The horrors of the world, the terrors of their reality, ceased pressing in on the walls; anger and hatred no longer seeped through the windows; the heavy weight of war receded from their chests and there was nothing but the two of them; nothing of the world as it was, only the world as it could be. Their time was sacrosanct.

It seemed so silly that neither had had the courage to admit the presence of love. Looking back, it certainly seemed that they did love each other. Tonks had had relationships before, relationships that she sincerely thought had fostered love, but she had not realized until just then how wrong she was.

Smiling to herself, Tonks stretched out on the couch for a nap. It would be a few hours before she had to meet Mad-Eye and take the Weasley-Potter lot to St. Mungo’s and she needed a good rest. It had been a trying night and it was going to be a trying day.


Chapter 17
The Best Christmas Ever

It was weird, Harry having a vision from inside Voldemort’s snake. Dumbledore clearly had more ideas on the subject, but he was not sharing with anyone and since she had no clue what to make of it, Tonks let her imagination run wild. As far as she was concerned, when it came to Harry Potter, the impossible wasn’t so impossible after all.

The only thing she could come up with to explain his vision was the possibility that he might be a seer, but when she brought that up to him, he gave her a rather pointed look and said, in no uncertain terms, that he was not. More than likely he was relating the concept of being a seer with Professor Trelwney, which was unfair to true seers the world over. She could not find any other explanation for what had happened, though he was seeing in the present instead of the future, as was customary. It was all just weird.

Tonks’s contemplation time on the subject, however, was very limited, mostly due to a disapproving eye or the paranoid ramblings by the owner of said eye.

She had popped into the Minstry briefly to get the scoop on what was happening on level nine from Kingsley, but this information did nothing to soothe Mad-Eye’s suspicions.

As they sat in the hospital hall waiting for the Weasleys and Harry to emerge from Arthur’s room, Mad-Eye maintained that Harry was possessed by Voldemort and, therefore, a danger to the Order as well as the school.

“Mad-Eye,” she said under her breath, ”if Dumbledore thought that Harry was passing You-Know-Who information – however involuntary – he would have informed us.”

“Don’t be so sure. Albus works in strange ways and he’s got a soft spot for that boy.”

“So do a lot of people. That does not mean that they would risk the lives of others as well as highly important information about the Order to keep a secret for someone they like.”

“He’s not his father.”

Tonks looked round at Mad-Eye, a curious expression on her face. “I know. Why did you say that?”

“Sirius is not the only one who was crushed when James and Lily died. I wonder if sometimes Albus falls into the same way of thinking.”

It was a touching statement, expressed with a sadness that Tonks had never seen in Mad-Eye, but even so, it was off base. Dumbledore did not confuse Harry with James. Never.

“Sorry, Mad-Eye, but I can’t agree with you. I don’t see that happening.”
Before he could respond, the door to Arthur’s room opened and the lot, minus Molly, tromped out looking quite despondent.

Closing the door behind them, Tonks and Mad-Eye entered Arthur’s room to find him rather healthy looking. He did not look perfect and his side was covered in a massive bandage, but she had seen far worse.

Molly stood at his side, ruffled and stern looking. The kids must have given her a hard time.

“How are you?” Tonks asked.

“Fine, fine,” he said, waving his hand dismissively, as though he only had a scratch. “Now, tell me what’s been happening.”

“Well, they searched the whole area but they couldn’t find the snake anywhere. It just seems to have vanished after it attacked you, Arthur.
…But he can’t have expected the snake to get in, can he?”

“I reckon he sent it as a lookout,” Mad-Eye said. “’Cause he’s not had any luck so far, has he? No, I reckon he’s trying to get a clearer picture of what he’s facing and if Arthur hadn’t been there the beast would have had much more time to look around,” he finished, before getting to the subject he was really interested in. “So, Potter says he saw it all happen?”

“Yes,” Molly answered, wringing her hands together. “You know, Dumbledore seems to have been waiting for Harry to see something like this.”

What? There’s an angle I hadn’t seen.

“Yeah, well,” Mad-Eye grumbled, “there’s something funny about the Potter kid, we all know that.”

“Dumbeldore seemed worried about Harry,” Molly said, ignoring Mad-Eye’s last remark, “when I spoke with him this morning.”

“Of course he’s worried! The boy’s seeing things from inside You-Know-Who’s snake. Obviously Potter doesn’t realize what that means, but if You-Know-Who’s possessing him, he’s a danger to all of us, to Hogwarts.”

“He’s not possessing him,” Tonks and Molly said at the same time.

Tonks smiled at Molly and turned to Mad-Eye. “Look, I am not saying it’s not a possibility, of course it is, but I don’t think one vision – in a dream, mind you – warrants our distrust. There is no way Dumbedore would put everyone in danger like that.”

“Tonks is right. You-Know-Who is clearly not controlling him or Harry would not have been able to wake himself up,” Arthur said.

“And he would have used Harry before now if he could,” Tonks added.

“Well, You-Know-Who’s getting inside that kid’s head somehow,” Mad-Eye grumbled.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“He’s just had a vision of attacking someone very close to him!” Sirius said sharply. “Of course he’s going to act weird. Now, could you two please refrain from analyzing his every move and help me with this damn tree!”

Tonks sighed, feeling distinctly as though the subject had been effectively circumvented. She could understand Sirius’s desire to act like all was well with Harry, but it wasn’t going to help Harry any to avoid the subject of his vision or Arthur’s attack. He was hurting and confused and, judging by the conversation she had had with Phinneus Nigellus, who was entrusted with the task of watching Harry from his frame in the boys’ room upstairs, the Boy Who Lived was quickly becoming the Boy Who Sulked.

Using her wand to navigate the tip of the emerald green Christmas tree around the corner and into the sitting room, Tonks made a mental note to talk about Harry with Remus later.

Sirius, who was covered in sap and needles, sighed contentedly as the tree settled into place opposite the fire. He quickly dug into a box of decorations and began happily placing them haphazardly atop the branches.

Catching Remus’s amused expression, she tugged on his sleeve and winked. She placed a finger to her lips to signify that they should quietly leave Sirius to his preparations. Together they silently backed out of the room and just as they reached the doorway Sirius’s voice stopped them.

Without turning or slowing the pace of his decorating frenzy he said, “If you two want to fool around go to Tonks’ place. There are children in this house.”

Remus let out a frustrated grunt as they stopped in the hall. He was highly annoyed with Sirius and his constant commentary on their relationship. "I wish he would just leave it alone."

“I know,” Tonks agreed, her voice intentionally serious to hide her amusement. “We never fool around here.”

She was rewarded for her joke with a glare that she imagined worked beautifully on his students when they were being obnoxious, but as she was not in the least bit intimidated by narrowed eyes, forehead creases or pursed lips, Tonks only smiled and puckered her mouth in cheeky air kiss.

“You know,” he started to say, waving his finger at her, but was interrupted by the doorbell and the subsequent bellowing of Mrs. Black.

Tonks disengaged all of the locks on the door while Remus covered the screeching painting. She opened the door just enough to see who was calling and was surprised to see a cold and ruffled Hermione. Tonks ushered her inside and re-locked the door.

“Hermione,” Remus said, “what are you doing here?”

The young woman plopped her heavy bag at her feet and sighed.

“Ginny sent me a letter. She said Harry’s locked himself in Buckbeak’s room and won’t talk to anyone.”

Good on you, Ginny! Tonks smiled to herself. Well, at least his friends will try and sort him out.

“Yep,” Tonks said. “He’s upstairs.”

The bushy haired teenager smiled warily and headed off to pull her friend out of his stupor and back into the world of the living.

“Come on,” Tonks said, grabbing Remus’s sleeve. “I won’t be here tomorrow and I want to give you your present.”

“Where is it?”

“In your room.”

“No, no, no, we can’t go up there.”

Tonks narrowed her eyes at him. “Why not?”

“The kids are up there,” he said in a horrified tone.

“It’s not that kind of a present!” She said, astounded by his insinuations.

They were silent for a moment before his eyes widened and he threw up his hands. “That’s not what I meant! I didn’t mean that. I just don’t want to get in the way of their…intervention or whatever,” he stammered.

“Mmhh huh,” she said skeptically.

“Okay, fine. Believe whatever you want, Nymphadora, but next time you want to – .“

“Okay, okay!” she interrupted, putting a hand to his mouth to stop him from saying something he shouldn’t. “You win. Accio Remus’s gift.”

A large wrapped box came shooting silently down the staircase and into Tonks’ arms.

“Here,” she said, holding out the box. It was wrapped in green paper with little wolves that ran across the surface, stopping every few seconds to howl silently.

“Nice wrapping,” he said sardonically.

“I saw it and it reminded me of you. Go on, open it.”

Carefully, he unwrapped the package, making sure not to rip the paper as he slid it from the smooth white box. Pulling the lid off, he looked eagerly inside. With a sigh, Remus removed a handsome pair of chocolate brown trousers.

Tonks tried to hide a giggle, but couldn’t manage it completely and a small laugh spilled out.

“Yes, you’re very funny. Pants. Why didn’t I see it coming?”

“Because you’re not very smart.”

“Ooh,” said another voice from behind them. “Nice pants, Remus. I expect those are to make-up for the horrendous pair that you transfigured her blanket into?” Sirius said, clapping Remus on the shoulder as he passed.

Once her cousin had exited the hall, Tonks pulled Remus outside and onto the front step, quietly closing the door behind them. Grinning, she waved her wand at the trousers. There was a small shot of light and the pants started to expand and twist and harden until they finally turned into a carved wooden trunk about the size of a breadbox.

Tonks looked on anxiously as Remus pulled open the lid.

“Tonks, you shouldn’t have…these are….” His voice was quiet and surprised, but she could tell that he was beyond pleased with his gift.

“I couldn’t pick just one,” she said, biting her lip nervously as he pulled out book after book.

“Pride and Prejudice, Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, Great Expectations…Tonks, these are all first editions,” he said in an awed voice.

“I know.”

“It’s too much. I can’t…”

“Stop,” she interrupted. “Don’t do that. Don’t be humble, don’t try and refuse this. Remus, I wanted to get these for you because you deserve them and you appreciate them. You are a wonderful, kind and smart man, who should have them…and because I do generous things for the people I love. I do love you, you know, very much.”

He didn’t look at her, only stared at the book in his hand.

Nice one, Nymphadora! Go and scare him off with crazy admissions of love and gifts of transfigured pants. You’re a real romantic. Now, he’s probably thinking you’re mental. He’s probably devising a plan for getting the hell out of this relationship right now. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Tonks…I...er.”

“No,” she said turning away. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. I’m sorry to just throw that at you, but – ”

A hand on her back stopped her and she turned to find him grinning at her. He stepped close and placed his hands on either side of her face, looking her square in her eyes.

“You are the single most perfect thing in the world and I love you, more than anything.”

Speechless and frozen out of shock, it took several moments for her to come back to reality and realize that he was still staring at her.

“Well, that’s a relief,” she quipped before throwing her arms around him, planting a very large kiss against his mouth.

Wow, was all her brain could muster; a happy, blissful and contented wow.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hi everybody! Here is the end of Chapter 17. It's mostly just fluff, which I don't love to do, but I was feeling fluffy and I know you all like it so here you go. Hope you enjoy and once again, thank you times infinity to Celtmama for all of her help.



Christmas was always wonderful as far as Tonks was concerned. She had an overbearing and frustrating family of Muggles to visit and not understand, and she had her parents, who were everything to her, but right then, as she pulled a strange square object from its box, she desperately wished she were at St. Mungo’s with Remus and the adolescent hoard.

“Er…thanks, Aunt Sarah. I needed...one of these.”

Aunt Sarah smiled a satisfied smile and Tonks peeked at the side of the box for a hint as to what the object was.

Toaster.

This boxy thing made toast? How? Where was the grill?

“Nymphadora.”

Tonks looked up to find her mother peering at her. “There is a gift there for Remus. You’ll take it to him?”

“Of course,” Tonks said, glancing back to see the gold and crimson package under the tree.

“Oh, Dora, thank you!” called her cousin Janet from her spot on the sofa. The woman held up a silver chain with a heavy quartz pendant. She slipped the chain around her neck, like a necklace, and smiled widely. “It’s beautiful!”

Tonks was about to tell her that it was a pendulum, not a necklace, but her father shook his head.

“How lovely, Janet. Nymphadora, doesn’t it look lovely on her?”

Tonks gave her dad an odd look and turned to Janet, who was fingering the glinting stone at her throat.

“Oh, yes,” she said, playing along. “It’s perfect.”

Sheer strength of will was the only thing standing between Tonks and the door. She loved her family dearly, but given recent developments in her love life, Tonks could think of far better (more stimulating, anyway) places to be. Besides, she was getting loads of strange Muggle gifts, as usual, and would just end up having her father take them into Muggle London to be returned. All in all, she was bored.

A glance at the clock told her she had only been at her Aunt’s home for an hour. No excuse would get her out of there that soon, not after she had already explained that she had the day off of work.

D*mn.

Her mother caught her eye and smiled. She nodded her head in the direction of the hall and Tonks smiled back, immediately catching her meaning.

Tonks stood and stepped over the wrapping strewn in all directions and empty boxes that lay forgotten around the tree. She was headed for the loo in the hall, the secret meeting place; the place to converge with her mother and discuss the strange Muggle things they had been given. They had been doing this since Tonks was eight and every year it managed to make them laugh and her father frown.

Behind her she could hear her mother say, “Excuse me, I’ll just be a moment,” and her father clear his throat disapprovingly.

Tonks entered the bathroom and waited only a second for her mum to follow her in and lock the door behind her.

“Good haul this year,” Tonks said seriously.

Andromeda, usually so composed and dignified, dissolved into a fit of giggles and slumped onto the edge of the bathtub.

“Yes, yes. Quite a treasure.”

“What was that thing that Uncle Walter gave you, Mum?”

“I’m not entirely sure. Some kind of four-man grill, but I don’t see how four men could possibly fit inside the little thing.”

“Maybe it takes four men to work it.”

They laughed again and Tonks took a seat on the tub-wall next to her mother.

“You look happy, Nym.”

Startled by this burst of off-topic conversation, Tonks looked round at her mother to find the woman staring at her, as though picking over her appearance with intense scrutiny.

“But you’re distracted.”

“You’re a mind reader now?”

Andromeda smiled. “No, but I am your mother and I can tell. You love him.”

“Very much.”

“And he loves you.” It wasn’t a question, more of an observation.

“Yes. He said it, he said he loves me.”

Her mother was quiet and still, leaving Tonks disconcerted and unsure of what to say.

“I won’t pretend,” Andromeda said after a moment, “that this situation is not fraught with complications. This is a delicate path, should you choose to pursue it, and you will face many problems, what with him being a werewolf, but Remus is a wonderful man and I couldn’t have chosen anyone more suited for you.”

“I’m in love with him, Mum.”

“I know.”

There was a long silence and Tonks shifted so that she could rest her head on her mother’s shoulder. It was a nice moment, a moment of quiet understanding and companionship, but then her mother ruined it.

“So, how’s the sex?”

“Mum!”

“Oh, come on. Janet told me you two were practically eating each other alive when she went to get you the other day. I’m a mum, but I’m not dead.”

“I don’t really…er…can’t we…you’re…eww.”

“I had to have sex at least once, you know, or you wouldn’t be here. And I am far more aware of your miscreant days at Hogwarts than you think I am and I don’t for a second believe that a friend of Sirius Black is entirely trustworthy in matters concerning the libido, so don’t try and tell me that you and he…”

But that was all that Tonks heard because she had leapt off the tub, wrenched the door open, flung herself into the hall and escaped into the living room where the rest of her family was still sitting among the rubble of discarded wrapping and packaging. Badly disguising a smile, she sat down next to her father and sighed.

When her mum emerged from the hall, Tonks shot her a playfully disgusted look and winked.

This might be the best Christmas ever.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tired and filled to bursting with ham, potatoes, gravy and treacle tart, Tonks unlocked her front door and stepped into the darkness of her living room.

Something was off. Her hand was on her wand immediately as she registered the low hum of music coming from somewhere inside her house. She swept her eyes from side to side trying to see into the dark, her stance rigid and alert. There was someone there in the dark; she could feel it.

Wait a minute, Death Eaters wouldn’t break into my house and play Chopin.

Out of the shadows she caught a familiar scent and smiled to herself.

Soap and chocolate.

“What are you doing?” she asked suspiciously.

An arm wrapped around her neck and soft lips met hers, sweet and tender, not hurried or impatient, as they so often were, but instead seemed to be savoring the moment, as if they had all the time in the world.

It was strange, kissing in the dark. Being so consumed by feeling without the aid of sight to complete the senses. It was as though her sense of touch wanted to make up for the inability to see and she was overtaken by it, by his rough hands, his soft hair, and the coarse stubble on his chin. It was dead sexy.

He pulled away and she leaned forward instinctively, not wanting to lose their closeness.

“What is that?” Remus asked.

“What?”

“That.”

“Oh! That is your Christmas gift from my parents,” she said holding up the box by the ribbon, which had been jabbing him in the side.

“Why did they do that? You should have told them not to get me anything.”

Tonks smiled. “Hey, you’re the one who walked into Christmas announcing that you were my boyfriend, don’t blame me for the repercussions of your poor judgment.”

“Shut up.”

“Witty,” she teased. “What are you doing anyway?”

Remus muttered an incantation and several small points of light illuminated around the room, spilling their soft glow over the tables, chair and couch of her living room, illuminating what looked like thousands of multicolored raindrops spread about the floor and furniture.

Petals.

Covering the room were an array of different flower petals in every color she could think of and from every flower she could think of, and there, in the center of the floor, sat a heavy crimson and scarlet blanket with a bottle of chilling champagne and a bowl of strawberries.

“What is all this?”

“Happy Christmas.”

Tonks stepped over the petals, trying not to actually step on any of them, they were so beautiful, but there were simply too many to avoid.

“You’re going to have to step on them,” Remus said from behind her.

“I don’t want to, they’re so perfect.”

He didn’t say anything, but she fancied that she could feel him smile.

“Sit,” he said as they reached the picnic.

But she couldn’t, she was struck by the beauty of it. Kneeling to inspect the heavily woven fabric, she was amazed by the intricate pattern of vines and leaves stitched with a glittering gold into the deep crimson of the dyed wool. Then, in the vines she started to see a pattern, the vines connected and crossed, sprouting leaves as they did so, sometimes being completely consumed by another set of vines and sometimes ending a tiny spiral. It was a family tree.

Her finger found a name, written within a tiny leaf and traced it. Howard Weston, a great uncle on her father’s side. She followed his vine until it reached her father’s name. A strand of thread connected her father’s leaf with another that contained the name Andromeda Black and a line wound down to another leaf, but this one was different, this leaf, her leaf, was bright pink.

She laughed as tears stung at her eyes. Never in her life had Tonks seen anything so beautiful.

“I saw you and Sirius looking over the one at number twelve and it always seemed wrong that you were absent from it. You’ll see that Andromeda and Sirius are the only two Black’s on there. The rest are your father’s family.”

Tonks looked up at him, tears clouding her vision, and for a moment she was speechless. She looked at him, his face a mixture of uncertainty and pride. Oh yes, she loved him, she loved him more than she thought she ever could.

“You did this?” she finally managed.

“Yes.”

“Thank you. It’s perfect. It’s better than perfect, it’s…it’s….”

“Well,” he cut her off, “I did owe you a blanket.”

She laughed, spilling only a few tears before regaining control of her emotions and crawling over the blanket to where he sat and curling up in his lap.

“Love you,” he whispered into her hair.

“You know what this new blanket is missing?”

“No,” he said suspiciously.

“Us,” she said and she yanked his collar down until they both toppled over onto the blanket in a heap of roaming hands and legs and lips.

Oh, yes. The best Christmas ever.

Once again, I have to give massive thanks to one Miss Celtmama for her amazing help and advice. I shutter to think of how this chapter would have turned out if she had not sent me a virtual smack to the head and asked, "What the heck is this, drivel?" THANK YOU! I think I'm back in the flow - or close to it, anyway.

Enjoy this next chapter!


Chapter 18
Progress


Taking the kids back to King’s Cross is not going to be a pleasant trip, Tonks mused. Not that she didn’t want to spend time with the bevy of teenagers, but she was officially in a terrible mood and they were so unfortunate as to be using the most ridiculous mode of transportation ever invented: The Knight Bus.

“It’s like the mechanical version of you,” Remus teased as he sat in the kitchen reading the Daily Prophet and having breakfast, while Tonks stood behind him, absently rubbing his shoulders. The full moon was coming up in a few days and she could tell he was starting to feel its effects.

“It’s highly unsteady and brightly colored,” Sirius said, coming in from the hall. “Sounds the same to me.”

“You’re very funny,” replied Tonks in a humorless tone, digging her fingers a little deeper into Remus’s shoulder than necessary.

“Ow,” he said, squirming under the pressure from her fingers.


Tonks ignored him, but softened her rhythm on his muscles, making him groan quietly. She continued to knead his back as she started to read the Prophet over Remus’s shoulder. Sirius set to work frying some eggs and sausages, huffing every time Remus made an approving noise from his back rub.

“Must you read from behind me?” Remus suddenly asked, turning his head to look at her over his shoulder.

“Yes. Unless you want to go buy another for me to read,” she answered sweetly, sitting down beside him as she hooked her arm in his. She leaned in so that she could see the page spread out in front of him.

They had been having these odd little disagreements more and more lately. It was like a tournament to see who could be less inconvenient, as though they didn’t want to mortally offend the other by lack of consideration. She didn’t really know where it was coming from, but it felt a tiny bit like they were being especially cordial in an effort to get along, which was silly, really, because they got on just fine when they weren’t overly concerned with the other person’s feelings.

Remus rolled his eyes at her and handed over the paper.

“But you’re not finished reading,” she objected, trying to hand it back.

“I’ll read it later.”He pushed the paper at her. He smiled as he did it, but it didn’t quite convince her that he wasn’t annoyed at being interrupted.

“I’ll stop reading over your shoulder. Sorry.” She handed it back again and gave him a swift peck on the cheek, as if to close the matter.

“Tonks, take the - ”

“Oh, will you two stop it!” Sirius hollered. “What a ridiculous conversation. Honestly, if you could hear yourselves you’d gag. Please, for my sake, keep the awkward new couple discussions for somewhere other than my kitchen. I had enough torture in Azkaban!”

Shocked silent, Tonks stared, livid and hurt, at Sirius. What an awful thing to say to someone. How could he compare them to what he had endured in Azkaban? How could he even suggest that either one of them made him feel that way? He had crossed a line, at least with her he had. A glance at Remus told her that Sirius had gone too far with him as well.

Tonks thought for a moment that Remus was going to hex Sirius, his face red with fury and his fists balled on the table. He looked away, apparently calming himself, and when he looked up again he was no longer red-faced and furious but quietly steaming.

Well, if he wasn’t going to hex the prat, she would.

Just as she was pulling her wand out of her pocket, Remus placed a hand on her wrist. She looked up and met his eye; he shook his head.

“Sirius,” Remus said, “That was completely uncalled for and very insulting. Not that you aren’t normally uncalled for and insulting, but what in the hell was that all about? Somehow I doubt that it had anything to do with me or with Tonks.”

There was silence from Sirius, who had turned back to the stove and was plating the sausages. After a minute he sighed and turned back to them.

“Snape was here yesterday. Apparently, he is going to teach Harry Occlumency. Dumbledore seems to think that it will help him to block out Voldemort.”

“That’s not so bad,” Tonks said after a short silence in which they all absorbed what Sirius had said. “It would be a useful asset to him.”

Remus nodded in agreement. “Snape is very talented in this particular area of magic.”

“He’s a greasy git,” Sirius said, clearly trying to refuse these logical opinions.

“True,” Tonks said at the same time that Remus said, “Not arguing, Sirius.”

Sirius crossed to the table and sat across from them, his expression worried. “What if Snape’s trying to weaken Harry’s mind, open him up to give Voldemort easier access?” he asked in a whisper.

“Right under Dumbledore’s nose?” countered Tonks quietly, still angry with Sirius, but speaking the truth.

“Dumbledore trusts Snape, and so must we,” Remus pointed out, as though that closed the discussion.

“Oh, look at you two, thinking alike and everything. How adorable.” It was said with so much disdain that Tonks was momentarily unable to respond, but when she opened her mouth to admonish him and possibly wriggle her wand hand free from Remus’s constricting grip and send a few bat-bogeys Sirius’s way, the door swung open and the kids tromped in, looking for breakfast.

By the time they had every member of the brood onto the bus and seated, Tonks had managed to become a complete pain in the backside. She was bossy and pushy and rude; she didn't mean to be, but the combined pressure of getting the kids back to Hogwarts on as unreliable a contraption as the Knight Bus and Sirius’s unexpected commentary on her relationship with Remus had put her in a nasty mood.

They reached the gates to the castle in one piece, a small miracle in her opinion, and unloaded the group and their trunks. They said goodbye and watched them disappear into the distance, relieved to have delivered them to safety.

“Harry looks as happy about Occlumency lessons with Snape as Sirius did,” she said.

“He is determined to hate Severus. I cannot say that I blame him.”

There was a loud BANG and the Knight Bus disappeared.

“I guess we’re walking into Hogsmeade, then,” Remus said, slightly amused.

“Looks that way. Rosmerta won’t mind if we use her floo,” Tonks said and then as an afterthought added, “I’ll buy you a butterbeer.”

Remus sighed and said, “No thanks, I think we should just Apparate back.”

Giving him a scornful frown, Tonks turned to face him and, poking him square in the chest, said, “Don’t do that! I do not want to give a werewolf charity, I want to buy my boyfriend a butterbeer. See the difference? Because there is one!”

“Tonks, I just don’t like - ”

“Me?” she interrupted. “Butterbeer? Rosmerta? What, Remus? And if you say ‘accepting things from a girl,’ I am going to beat you over the head with your own wand.”

He sighed and fixed his gaze on some unknown object in the distance. He looked torn, unable to decide what to say or do. She wanted to hug him and apologize for being so difficult, for making his life more complicated instead of making it easier, but he was being ridiculous. He was setting too much store in his pride. He needed to let her have a little room to maneuver instead of holding them both to outdated ideals about gender rolls.

“I will take your silence as affirmation that I am right and you are just being an old fuddy-duddy,” she said, picking up her pace so that he had to walk very quickly to catch up, but catch up he did.

“I’ll work on it,” he said after a minute.

“Good, because I don’t do it to insult your manhood, you know,” she said playfully, but in Tonks-fashion, she was busy looking at him instead of at the road in front of her, stepped in a hole and fell spectacularly on her face.

“Are you alright?” Remus asked, pulling her up to standing by her underarms.

“Aside from a minor case of humiliation and a bruised ego, I’m just ducky.”

“Don’t worry,” Remus said, an amused twinkle in his eye, “that only ranks about a seven.”

“Are we operating on a scale of ten being the best?” Tonks asked, a bit confused.

“That’s what I was told,” he said, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

“You were told? What does that mean?”

Remus looked around nonchalantly, as though their conversation was just your average chitchat. He even broke off a twig from the branch above them and started playing with it.

Bloody Marauder!

“Well, Fred and George introduced us to the rating system. Apparently they used to rate your falls back in school.”

“Us? Who else is in on this?” she asked, completely thrown by this new revelation, but before he could answer she had plowed on. “Fred and George? I didn’t even know them in school. Those little sods.”

Remus bowed his head, trying to hide the laughter that she could plainly hear despite his weak attempt to hide it.

“Can’t believe those lazy, good for nothing little gits would do that!” she ranted. “Wait, yes I can. When I see them next….oooh!” She let out a roar of frustration as Remus laughed quietly.

Without warning he stopped laughing and bent down to retrieve something from the ground where Tonks had fallen.

“Did you drop this?” Remus asked, holding out a slightly worn picture of a dark-haired and dark-eyed man.

"Oh, I must have had it in my pocket,” she said, holding out her hand to take back the picture. “Not that it really matters.”

Remus continued to stare strangely at the picture, his brow deeply furrowed, but did not hand it back.

“Who is this?” he asked.

“That? It’s McManus’s brother, Damon. Why?”

“You remember how I said that there was a man in Arthur’s hospital room who had just been bitten by a werewolf?”

“Yes,” she drew the word out, having a suspicion as to where this was going, but not wanting to jump to conclusions.

“This is him. The werewolf in St. Mungo’s is Damon McManus.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

They stared at each other for a long minute, not really sure how to proceed with this information. Vinatio McManus had, unknown to anyone, even the Ministry, been a werewolf and was murdered by Death Eaters under very curious circumstances. His girlfriend was also murdered under suspicious circumstances and now his brother was in St. Mungo’s having been bitten.

“What in the hell is going on here?” Tonks asked.

“No idea, but I think your case just got more interesting.”



~*~*~*~*~*~*~

By the time they had reached St. Mungo’s the sun had started its afternoon journey towards the west, bringing with it the twilight. The wind picked up, tickling Tonks’s neck and chilling her ears. Traffic in the streets of London started to slow, congested by people in their tiny cars rolling a path home from work and the rumbling trucks delivering their goods to merchants all over the shining metropolis.

The window of Purge and Dowse Ltd. was as grimy and grungy as ever as they entered St. Mungo’s through it.

Tonks waved a hello at Dilys in her painting up on the wall and headed off to the Creature Induced Injuries ward without so much as saying hello to the receptionist, who was busy arguing with a man who had sprouted an extra nose on his chin.

There was a nurse’s station just inside the doors of the ward, where two women stood, deep in conversation.

“Hi,” Tonks said, approaching the nurses. “I’m Officer Tonks and this is Officer Proudfoot, I need to speak with Damon McManus.”

“He’s not here,” said the shorter of the two.

“He was discharged already?” Remus asked, surprised.

“’Course not!” the other nurse, narrowing her eyes at him. “He ran off. ‘Bout three this morning, didn’t he, Gwen?”

“'Bout,” she agreed.

“Well, thank you for your time,” Tonks said, turning her back on the nurses and stomping a little too forcefully from the ward.

“Problem with your boots, dear?” asked the portrait of Dilys Derwint once they had reached the lobby and Tonks had not seen the need to relent her heavy-footed march of annoyance.

“No, just having a bad day.”

Outside the Hospital, Remus caught her arms and pulled her to a stop.

“Hold on,” he said. “You need to get your bearings. It’s been a long day. You won’t be able to find McManus by stomping around London, anyway. You can get his address at work tomorrow and then we’ll pick up where we left off, okay?”

“We?” she asked, amused by his use of the plural.

“What other werewolf expert do you know?” he asked. “More importantly,” he added quickly, “Who else do you know who would voluntarily spend time with you?”

She shot him a very annoyed look that clearly conveyed how unfunny she found him, but he did not appear fazed by it, instead, she felt the warmth of his fingers as he pressed his palm to hers, grasping her small hand in his big one. He kissed her knuckles and smiled, effectively dissolving her foul temper into nothingness.

“I’ll walk you home.”

“Thanks,” she said as she rested her head on his shoulder feeling like the day had finally turned in her favor.

Hope you all like. Thanks to Celtmama for her unyeilding help! And there is a place in a place next to a place where you should go (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?p=3544168#post3544168).

Also, I would like to wish everyone a happy Talk Like A Pirate Day! If you want to get some of those Arrr's and Ahoy's and matey's out of your system you can do so at the feedback thread! YAY!

Chaper 19
The Eyes That Bind


Bellatrix Lestrange was an enigma, a paradox of evilness and familiarity that both repelled Tonks and intrigued her.

The overlarge photo of her aunt hung menacingly from the ceiling of a crowded meeting hall on level two of the Ministry of Magic where Tonks and every other Auror had been since five a.m. that morning. The woman’s eyes swept disdainfully over the crowd, pausing occasionally to sneer, and Tonks had been sure on a few occasions that the sneer was directed her. She knew it was nerves talking; the picture, eerie as it was, had no awareness of its effects. That didn’t make her unsettling image any less frightening.

She looks like my mum.

The thought made her want to vomit, but there was no escaping it. The family resemblance was strong, stronger even than with her aunt Narcissa, though she and her mum shared similar hair and eyes. Change those things, though, change her hair to black and her eyes to brown and they could have been the same person. The heavily lidded eyes, the wide mouth, the high cheekbones – all the same, all her mother’s.

Tonks wanted to turn away; she wanted to ignore the angry woman on the wall that made her skin crawl and piqued her curiosity all at once, but the eyes held her there. Deep brown with flecks of golden hazel, deceitful yet beautiful. Like a Siren, they drew you in through empty beauty only to lead you, laughingly, to your death.

Her aunt’s hateful gaze landed on Tonks once more.In an act of defiance she stared back, as if to discredit the image, as if to remove its power over her, but she was pulled from her silent battle by the hastened shuffling of feet as the hall emptied.

Tonks stood to leave, but before she reached the door a hand caught her shoulder and she found herself face to face with Rufus Scrimgeour.

His mane of orange hair stood in riotous disorder upon his head, causing him to look more like a lion than usual, and Tonks felt she had good reason be wary. For one thing she knew exactly what he was capable of, and for another he was suspicious of her already. She did not, however, believe that his desire to speak with her had anything to do with his prior suspicions. No, she knew what this was about. Suddenly the urge to vomit was back.

Standing soldier-straight, she turned fully around to face him in a respectful gesture to show her loyalty.

“Nymphadora,” he said, “I realize that you have some personal issues tied up in all this.”

“No, sir,” she stated very steadily.

“No?”

Tonks locked eyes with him. “No, sir, I do not.”

“Bellatrix Lestrange is your aunt, is she not?” It wasn’t really a question.

“Yes, but she is not my family. I have never met the woman and she has never met me.”

Scrimgeour looked intrigued and lowered his eyes a bit, thoughtfully. “Is that so?”

“It is.”

“Very well. Here is your assignment.” He handed her a roll of parchment and tromped out of the room, his staff of assistants close behind him.

So much for solving the McManus case.

She unrolled the parchment angrily and read through her instructions in silence, absorbing the information and committing it to memory before tossing the page into the air and setting it alight with a flick of her wand.

A final glance up at the towering photos of seven escaped prisoners of Azkaban, three of whom were in some way related to her, caused Tonks to grit her teeth and silently scream her frustrations to the heavens, a cry to absolve her soul of feelings that made no sense to her; feelings of loss, of hate, of curiosity, of rage, of fear. She met her aunt’s eyes a final time and all she found there was a tempestuous sea of brown dotted with gold. There was no warmth there, only maniacal greed and angry lies.

No, nothing like my mum.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Her head hurt. The Auror meeting had been quite enough for Tonks, but the four-hour Order meeting had driven all the energy she had had from her body. She was sitting in the parlor of Number Twelve, her legs drawn up to her chest and her head on her knees. They had debated and fought more than anything else, although Dumbledore had arrived in time to settle most disputes and set them on a plan of action before rushing back to the school to maintain order there.

It was all just too much to take in.

A quiet and deliberate cough made Tonks look up. Remus stood in the doorway looking rather drawn and ill, but he smiled nonetheless.

“Join me for a cup of hot chocolate,” he said, gesturing toward the two mugs he held, a look in his eye clearly telling her that it was not a request.

“Thanks,” she said, standing to take one from him. She hated to add any extra burden this close to the full moon.

They sat together on the settee, warm cups of chocolate heating their fingers. There was so much to think about, so much to say that for a few minutes neither said a word.

“Are you alright?” Remus finally asked, brushing a stray strand of hair from her eyes.

“Not really.” She answered far more truthfully than she had intended to.

“Is it the Auror who’s troubled or the woman?”

“The woman.” Tonks paused for several minutes, unable to formulate any thoughts that could accurately convey her emotions. It was harder to talk than it was to feel.

“She looks like my mum. She’s my aunt, my mum’s sister, and she's evil and mad and obsessed and she bloody looks like my mum!”

Remus did not rush to defend Andromeda’s character, nor did he move to put Tonks at ease; instead he waited and listened thoughtfully.

“There is a resemblance,” he said, his eyes fixed on his mug of molten chocolate. “That is not surprising, though, and you have seen pictures of Bellatrix before.”

“Yes, but there was never the threat of having to come face to face with her. She was always locked away in Azkaban, but she’s out now and I…I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel. I don’t know how to deal with her.”

He offered a sad smile. “You will react how you must when the time comes, but until then you can have no way of knowing what you will feel or what you will do.”

“Thank you, Dumbledore,” she bit out, annoyed.

“That wasn’t intended to be a cryptic answer, Tonks.”

She sighed, unhappy with herself and her behavior. He had done nothing wrong; she had no excuse for treating him rudely.

“Sorry.” She scooted closer to him, turning so she could hug his waist and bury her face in his side. She heard the soft clunk of his mug being set down and felt his arms envelope her.

They sat for some time like that, content and miserable all at once. Somehow being together made it all a little easier. In the cloudy gray of the world, a light shone between them that provided its own warmth. It gave them shelter and peace in a world where evil was taking hold.

However perfect it was, moments like this one always came to an end, especially now that the war had risen to a new level and threatened to demand so much more than just their time. They were awaiting the inevitable, doing what they could to prevent total chaos, and that had to come before their personal desires. They both knew it. Whatever small amount of their lives that they had been able to devote to one another was now in danger of disappearing entirely. Knowing it made leaving that much harder.

“I have to go,” Tonks willed herself to say.

“I know.”

She felt a gentle kiss pressed into her hair and she smiled.

“Thanks,” she said in a small voice.

“I accept payment in galleons only,” Remus teased.

Tonks smiled and playfully punched him on the chin before dragging him to the door to kiss her goodnight.

Her flat was silent when she entered. She hadn't been expecting otherwise, but something about it felt uncomfortable. She knew there was no threat there; her house was protected by Ministry-set wards, as all Auror homes were. No one could get in who had not been given express permission, but still, she felt watched, followed.

Brown with specks of gold.

Her aunt’s eyes were haunting her; they had burned themselves into her brain and stared at her from inside out.

She had not told Remus the whole truth. Everything she had said was true, but she had left out a tiny detail, one that was likely to disturb her for a long time to come.

Staring into the bathroom mirror, she took in her appearance; her natural appearance. She let the morphs fade and her natural mousy brown hair and brown eyes fell into place, but what stared back at her was far more frightening than the pink hair or the violet eyes or the occasional pig snout.

Brown with specks of gold.

Tonks locked eyes with herself, and it was like looking into the eyes of the monster that was her aunt. Both had stormy eyes in matching colors. Eyes of a Black, not of a Tonks, as her mum had told her when as a child she asked why her mummy’s eyes were not like her own.

“You have your daddy’s eyes,” her mother had said.

Now that she knew better, the truth was more unbearable.

A quick morph of her hair and she had waist-length raven tresses, straight and shining. She gasped at the sight of it, at the sad truth of what her genes could very easily have made her. Just one tiny allele and she could have had black hair just like most of them; she already had the eyes, and weren’t they the doorways to the soul? Wasn’t she a Black by blood, after all? What made her so special as to be different from them; why was she so arrogant to think that she was above them? A little bit of Muggle-born blood couldn’t negate generations of Black lineage. She was a fool for thinking otherwise.

An arm wrapped around her waist suddenly and she stiffened. Her wand was already in her palm when she saw Remus’s face in the mirror behind her. He tightened his arm around her middle and moved so that he pressed flush against her, his cheek to her ear, appraising her solemnly in the mirror. Their eyes met briefly, reflected back by the silver glass before Tonks turned away ashamed.

She couldn’t look at him, not like that, not when she thought so little of herself. She wasn’t worthy of him. Remus was a good man, a kind soul with so many problems of his own. He didn’t need to have to deal with her family issues or her emotional problems. She briefly considered telling him to go home and let her wallow alone, but her heart wouldn’t let her. Whether or not she was worthy of his attentions, she needed them.

She met his eyes in the mirror again.

“Don’t let her lower your opinion of yourself,” he spoke after some minutes. “The hair doesn’t suit.”

Slowly, Tonks let the black fade to mousy brown.

“Better, but I prefer the pink. Now,” he whispered teasingly, “isn't there anything better you could do to occupy yourself?”

Gently he turned her around to face him, never once taking his arm from her waist, and pressed several heavy kisses on her lips before Tonks managed to pull herself back from the dark and winding path her thoughts had taken earlier.

In that moment, with Remus’s arms around her and his kisses blessing her skin, she was sure that, although Black blood ran in her veins, she was not the same as they were by any possible measure. She may look like them, but she was in no sense classified with or molded by them. She made her own choices, and no matter whose blood ran in her veins or what color her eyes were, they did not define her. She was her own person.

Readers? Are there any of you left? I'm sorry for the delay and the long gap between posts. I've got so much going on and then I was ill, but here is the new post and hopefully we will get back on track.

As always, giant heaps of love go out to celtmama for all of her whip-cracking. Thank You!!

If you wanna say hi, this is the place to do it! (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?p=3544168#post3544168)


Chapter 20
Oceanic


My life is exhausting, thought Tonks.

She had been dreary-eyed and sluggish for weeks, and today was no different. At least tonight, unlike so many previous evenings, she was able to go home and rest, an event that she was looking forward to with considerably more anticipation than seeing the Weird Sisters in concert.

She sighed and rubbed at her temples, gazing around the dark little shop that had become her new place of “employment.” Even though she was there on assignment, somehow it made her feel defeated to be working in retail. She had studied and suffered and beat herself to a bloody pile of nothing to become an Auror and now she was selling cursed tiaras and mummy hands to people who were more than likely hanging from the rotting branches of her own family tree.

She rubbed harder.

The Ministry had stationed her in Knockturn Alley, posing as a clerk in Borgin and Burkes in order to keep an eye out for any suspicious persons or new slithering tattoos that might pop up, which of course made her miserable. It was a prestigious assignment, she knew, but she wished desperately that it could have been more mentally and physically challenging. In addition, all the Aurors had been scheduled for eight-hour, rotating patrol shifts, regardless of other assignments. Then there was the Order, for which she was also patrolling, among other surveillance duties. All in all, Tonks very often found herself awake for days straight. She was killing herself with work and she was none too happy about it.

“Dez,” an unpleasantly smarmy voice called from the back of the shop.

Irritated at having been disturbed while busy being so thoroughly miserable, Tonks whipped back her long brown hair and turned around to stare down her long wide nose at Mr. Borgin (or so he insisted she call him). His dull brown head was poking out from behind the door to the storeroom and his face looked smug. The urge to hex him had her hand twitching toward her wand.

“Yeah,” she said in the posh, but bored tone she had decided fit that particular face best.

“Come and help me with a few things before you go.”

Suppressing a disgusted shudder at the things in the stockroom that she would probably have to fish out of moldy water or scrape clean with a toothbrush, Tonks nodded. She flipped the sign on the door to “Closed" and walked to the dank back room that held both the overstock and all of the questionable items not put on display. It was a dark space that smelled strongly of seaweed and smoke and contained so much illegal inventory that once the war was over, Tonks was busting Mr. Borgin and his never-present partner faster than they could say, “Malfoy made me do it.”

When she entered the room, Borgin was standing amid a pile of boxes as tall as he was and grinning at her. “Stack these along that wall.”

Well, that’s not so bad.

“New shipment?” she asked.

He nodded, sweeping his eyes over her bum before retreating up the stairs into the tiny office.

Why didn’t I disguise myself as a man? A fat, ugly, warty man.

Tonks set to work using hovering spells and mild sticking charms to stack the boxes, all the while making mental notes on the contents for both reports she had to write; one for Scrimgeour and one for Dumbledore.

Remind me why I decided to be an Auror and an “enemy of the state” again? she grumbled to herself.

Only a few boxes were left to send up to the top of the pile when a large barn owl squawked from a tiny window near the rafters. Sighing at the messenger, Tonks cast a quick charm to open the window and the owl swooped down to drop a small square of parchment into her waiting hand before leaving quickly the same way it had come. Unfolding the note, Tonks read Kingsley’s words and felt her stomach fall in disappointment.

“Sorry, Tonks. You have to take Ripley’s shift tonight. He’s in St. Mungo’s. See you at nine.”

She knew she should have been worried for Ripley's well-being but couldn’t move past her own disappointment. Why did this have to happen today? She was supposed to spend the evening with Remus and possibly get more than two hours of sleep and spend time with Remus and eat an actual meal instead of rushed cheese sandwiches and cold coffee and owl her mum and most importantly, spend time with Remus! They had not managed to find more than a few measly hours for each other in over four weeks, and it was grating on her. No, it was destroying her. It had been a week since she had kissed him and that was a hurried snog in the pantry when they were supposed to be getting the dinner rolls. It was torturous being without him. She was a walking, talking “I Miss Remus Lupin” billboard. Of course very few people knew what was causing her permanent state of love-sickness and she was able to pass it off as being overworked, but it was really a case of desperately missing him.

She stuffed the note in her pocket and made a final check of the stacked boxes and sighed.

“I’m going now,” she called up the stairs, not bothering to hide the venom in her voice. A moment later she heard the grunt of a reply and dashed out the door, hurrying off to Grimmauld Place. Maybe if she slammed out her reports fast enough, she and Remus could fit in a quick snog or at least a cup of tea – something, anything with Remus would do. At this point she would be happy just doing their laundry together.

Tonks found Sirius seated alone in the drawing room with a book in his lap and a frown on his face. The frown wasn't unusual; in fact, it was hard to find him without it these days. Christmas had been good for him. Having all of those people, especially Harry, around for the holiday had buoyed his spirits immensely. Unfortunately they had sunk right back to the bottom of his own emotional ocean when his guests had to leave. He had been in a bit of a depression since, and she and Remus had been too busy to try and reel him back up to the surface.

“Wotcher,” she said, smiling at the opportunity his actions allowed for a little teasing. “Are you…reading?

“Shocking as that may seem to you, cousin, I do occasionally do things other than mope,” he said without looking up from the book.

“Sure you do. You annoy Remus, you verbally abuse Snape, you drink and you feed Buckbeak. Oh, and you read…what is that you are reading,” she stepped closer to make out the title and laughed. “Muggle romance novels, Sirius? Really?”

“Hermione left it and it’s not a romance novel. I believe it is called ‘Chick Lit.’”

“Hate to be Jenny Raincloud here, but anything by Nora Roberts is a romance novel.”

Sirius looked up, annoyed, but instead of retaliating about the book, raised an eyebrow, taking in her appearance and said, “Why do you never morph into anyone attractive?”

“Oops,” she said, allowing her false visage to melt away. “I forgot. And I don’t like to make myself attractive - beauty is memorable and I'm generally up to no good when I am morphed. I'd rather be forgettable.”

“Yes, but I bet Moony would appreciate a little spiffing up on your part.”

Tonks fought back a smile and said, “What, you don’t think I’m pretty enough on my own?”

“Look too much like your mum. Quite snobby, actually.”

She rolled her eyes. He was just being a prat now. “Who says I don’t spiff up for Remus? Maybe I do.” She offered her cousin a sly grin and winked while changing her hair into a mane of gold and her eyes into sparkling pools of sea green.

“You don’t,” Sirius said flatly. “Remus is too much of a prude.”

“Where is the prude anyway?” Tonks changed the subject, as well as her fake appearance, tired of his halfhearted ribbing.

“Upstairs,” was all Sirius said before returning to the book in his lap.

Tonks leapt up the stairs, tripping a little over the first step as she caught her toe on the edge, and knocked on Remus’s bedroom door.

“Come in.”

Tonks entered, taking in the sight of him as he stood facing the opposite wall, folding his laundry.

You did say anything, including laundry, would do.

“Hi,” she said to his back.

Remus turned and smiled. “Hi.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Night after the moon,” he shrugged, “tired, but okay.”

Tonks crossed to him and slipped her arms around his waist.

“I miss you,” she told him, saddened that they had to steal little moments like this when no one else was looking instead of just being together with nothing to fear.

“Me too.”

“I have to work tonight,” she said, sighing.

“I know.” Remus kissed her head. “Kingsley was here when he got word that Ripley was in St. Mungo’s.”

“Did he say what happened?”

Remus pulled back and hesitantly looked into her face, his expression somber.

“Bellatrix happened,” she answered for him, and he nodded.

A familiar tightening in her gut made her stiffen as her stomach rolled with disgust and shame. She had come to terms with the fact that she resembled her aunt and made peace with their common genetics, but she couldn’t reach that same place of acceptance with the woman’s actions, and their family connection only deepened her guilt and sorrow. Somehow, illogical though she knew it to be, Tonks felt a certain level of responsibility over Bellatrix’s actions, as though they reflected on her or somehow connected her to her sadistic aunt.

“Quit it,” Remus said, resting his cheek on her head.

“What?”

“You're wearing your blame-face. What she does has nothing to do with you.”

Tonks grinned into his shirt. “How do you know that I have my blame-face on if you can’t see my face?”

“Old teacher's trick. I can see out the back of my head too.”

Tonks looked up at him, her face a mask of mock horror. “Mad-Eye, is that you?”

Remus winked. “Had you been practicing constant vigilance, you would have already known it.”

“Good thing,” she said teasingly. “I was getting bored of Remus and was hoping you would make a move.” She ran a finger along his jaw line making him groan in approval. “Alastor,” she purred, moving her lips to his. “Kiss me.”

Remus had moved in to take her lips, shifting in to wrap his arms around her and tease her lips with his tongue. Suddenly he stopped.

Tonks made a disapproving noise and clutched at his shirt.

“That was a very disturbing conversation,” he said, his eyes still closed.

“Alastor? Is something wrong?”

“Ah, quit it!” he said, squeezing his eyes shut tighter. “This is very, very wrong.”

Tonks chuckled before letting him draw her into a long, soft kiss. He really was very lovely. How had she managed an entire week without this?

Having been born without the ability to control herself, Tonks managed to get Remus’s shirt up over his head and his words reduced to throaty growls, before she remembered that she had to write two reports before going to meet Kingsley for patrol duty.
One of his hands found her hipbone and she sighed happily before pulling back.

“Easy there, tiger,” she teased. “I have to go.”

He shook his head and kissed her neck, saying something that may have been, “No.”

“Work,” she said entirely without conviction.

He kissed her collarbone and pulled her closer.

“Order business,” she sighed against his ear.

Remus made a frustrated kind of sound in the back of his throat and peeled himself away before pushing her toward the door. “Go, write your reports. I’ll be down in a minute,” he said grumpily.

“I feel so unloved,” she said jokingly as she walked to the door on slightly shaky legs.

“We can fix that,” he waggled his eyebrows at her, but didn’t make any attempt to stop her leaving.

“Tomorrow, when I don’t have to go be a spy. Seven o’clock my place.”

“I’ll be there at ten,” he smiled ruefully. “I have to go with Hestia to Dingle to deliver a message.”

With a half happy, half sad sigh, Tonks made her way down to the basement kitchen.

She had only been at the kitchen table for five minutes or so when Remus entered, his expression oddly stormy and still minus his shirt.

“Wha -?” she started to ask, but the arrival of Sirius stalled her.

“I’m not kidding, Remus. You think I’m here stomping about, thinking up conspiracies just to fuel some adolescent feud, but I am genuinely concerned for Harry.”

“Wha -?” she tried again, but was cut off.

“I know you are, and I do not think that you are thinking these things up out of boredom. I just don’t share your overactive sense of paranoia.”

“Are you –?”

“I’m crazy then, is it? The old man has gone off to Azkaban and lost his marbles!” Sirius yelled into the cavernous kitchen, his feet striking hard on the stone floor as he paced, adding an oddly ominous soundtrack to his words.

“No,” Remus said, his tone even, nothing like his turbulent expression. “Do not put words in my mouth. I don't think you’re mad, nor do I think Severus is harming Harry. Why must you insist on pushing this? Dumbledore –”

“Why push it?!” Sirius sounded outraged. “Because he’s my godson, ******! He’s all I have left, aside from you, and I care very much when he’s in trouble. Leaving him alone with a known Death Eater poking around in his brain constitutes trouble!”

“Severus is no longer a Death Eater, Sirius.”

“’Severus,’” he said in a mocking tone, clearly disgusted. “Since when has it been Severus? Are you two best mates now? Friends ‘til the end, eh?”

“Okay, now you’re just being childish.” Remus opened the cupboard and agitatedly started to make a pot of tea.

“Yeah, well as far as you’re concerned I'm always childish, so what difference does it make?”

“I never said that, nor is it true,” snapped Remus quietly, without ever turning away from his teapot.

Tonks had been watching intently from her seat at the table, her head whipping back and forth from one man to the other. She had very rarely witnessed them row and usually they were only mildly upset, but this was a real fight. They were well and thoroughly brassed off. Sirius, typically, was showing far more agitation than Remus, but Tonks could see the emotion in his eyes. His reactions may not have seemed as angry or exaggerated as Sirius’s were, but the argument, or more accurately, Sirius’s behavior was causing him a fair amount of anguish.

“Right,” Sirius said, his face distorted by hurt and anger and his voice low and melancholy. “You’re the one being childish, fooling around with my cousin as if it will ever really work out. You’re both kidding yourselves. Pathetic.”

He stared at Remus’s back, but the reaction he had been trolling for never came, and with a grunt of disappointment and anger, Sirius stomped back out of the kitchen.

“Remus?”

“Sorry,” he replied after a minute of stony silence. He finished the tea and moved to sit by her at the table, handing her a small chipped mug.

“He’s just trying to shock you into reacting,” she said in an attempt to cheer him up.

Remus made a noncommittal noise and poured some tea into her mug.

“He’s hurt because you won’t support him on this, that’s all.”

Sipping from his own cup, Remus nodded.

Ducking her head low to meet his eyes, Tonks kicked him under the table. “He’s wrong, you know.”

Finally looking up at her, Remus nodded, but he seemed a long way from her, and she was saddened by the invisible distance between them. Would he always pull away when upset or doubtful? Was there something he was worried about that he didn’t want to share with her?

She kicked him again, harder this time, annoyed that he could be oceans away from her when she was sitting right next to him.

“Ow!”

“Oops.” She feigned innocence and batted her eyelashes. “Clumsy of me.”

Remus smiled and nudged her with his elbow, seemingly a bit more normal than before. “Well, let's get this report done, and maybe we’ll get a few minutes to ourselves, eh?”

“Why, Professor Lupin, are you coming on to me?” Tonks put a hand to her heart and feigned shock.

“Only if it will work.”

“It’ll work,” she grinned, grabbing her quill and parchment to scribble out a report as fast as she possibly could. She had almost an hour before she had to meet Kingsley and some very unfinished business involving the half naked man sitting next to her.

Hi! Thanks for your patience everyone. I think the new update day will be Thursday now, since I seem to be an unorganized mess as of late. Hope that will work for all of you. The Feedback resides here (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?p=3544168#post3544168)

As always, a massive thanks to Celtmama for all of her help and guidance, which was quite extensive this time around and made the story much easier to comprehend. You're the best!

Here goes...

Chapter 21
It's All in the Timing



Twenty-two minutes, thirty seconds.

The dull drumming of bored fingers against heavy glass was the only indication that anyone breathing remained inside Borgin and Burkes. Tonks absently tapped her fingers against one of the display cases, one eye on the door and the other on the clock, which, in her humble opinion, was moving far too slowly. Maybe it was broken.

Twenty-one minutes, fifty seconds.

The blasted clock was definitely moving unnaturally slow.

A quick check of her watch revealed that the clock was actually one minute faster than her own timepiece. Bollocks.

Her impatience grew. She had the night off. Remus had the night off. They had the night off together! It was an incredible stroke of luck, and she was not about the waste it. Tonks had already informed Kingsley that under no circumstances whatsoever would she be coming in to the office. She had been very clear that she had a very important evening planned, and that he could find someone else to jump on the Auror bus for the night. Kingsley had eyed her suspiciously and agreed, reluctantly, to pass the message along to Scrimgeour in the event that he wanted to call her in. He'd looked more like he was just agreeing in order to shut her up, as she had managed to work up quite a rant on the subject.

Twenty minutes.

Now she only had to wait until closing time and then she was free as bird until morning. Her heart raced at the thought of an entire twelve hours of uninterrupted Remus-time and she smiled to herself in delight. The time would have passed more easily had there been any customers to wait on, but it seemed that the escaped Death Eaters had managed to frighten people away from Knockturn Alley. No one was willing to be suspected of wrongdoing with the Ministry in “search and destroy” mode, as it were.

I wonder why? Tonks thought sardonically before glancing again at the clock.

Nineteen minutes, seven seconds.

Unexpectedly, the bells above the door jingled, as it swung open. Tonks looked up to welcome the shopper and froze.

Two thin, platinum figures stood in the doorway wearing dual expressions of annoyance.

Ah, Uncle Lucky, you have terrible timing. Nineteen minutes. Talk fast!

Lucius stood just inside the door, his long blond hair tied at the nape of his neck. He wore a long black coat that Tonks was sure had been purchased with idea that it looked menacing, and as usual, he clutched a thin black lacquer cane in one hand.

“Good evening,” Tonks said, as politely as she could, which turned out to be rather difficult, since the last time she had seen Lucius he had let several of his companions die and somehow turned a man into a werewolf without the presence of the full moon.

“Where is Borgin?” Narcissa asked.

“Mr. Borgin is away on business for a customer. Is there something I can help you with?”

Narcissa sneered at her with disdain.

“Who are you?” Lucius had moved closer to the display case that Tonks stood behind and made every effort to look down at her, even though her body was currently just as tall as he was.

“Dezedra Whitke,” Tonks smiled and held her hand out in a gesture she knew would not be accepted. When Lucius did nothing but glare at her, she pulled her hand back, looking dejected and sorry for offering.

“When will Borgin return?” Lucius asked.

“He is expected tomorrow evening. If there is something that I can help you with, I would be pleased to do so,” she repeated.

Lucius removed a piece of creased parchment from his pocket and unfolded it. He read it over and waved his wand at it once before setting it on the display case between them.

Out of the corner of one eye, Tonks noticed a flicker of yellowed parchment as it floated to the floor; neither Lucius nor Narcissa seemed to notice. Trying not to let her eyes linger on it, she drew her attention back to her aunt and uncle.

“Give that to him.” Lucius indicated the folded square on the top of the case. “I will be back tomorrow at closing to speak with Borgin. It would be wise for him to be in.”

Tonks met his intimidating stare and forced herself not to match it with her own, instead cowering slightly before gathering her dignity and simply saying, “Yes, Mr. Malfoy.”

“How did you know his name?” Narcissa shot at her, accusingly.

Tonks offered a small smile and said, “Everyone knows the Malfoys. Everyone wants to be the Malfoys.”

She watched their matching blond heads disappear out the door and down the street before swishing her wand at the front door. The locks engaged and the curtains fell. Snatching up the fallen parchment, Tonks quickly read the scribbled words.

The winter root counteracts the rubber bark. Try frost plant needles instead of winter root and do not add monkshood this time. The monkshood is what killed him.

“Of course it has to be cryptic,” she sighed to herself, shoving the note into her robe pocket before turning her attention back to the note for Borgin.

Without bothering to read it, Tonks unsealed the note, made a copy and stowed it in her pocket. She left the original on Borgin’s desk and headed out the back door of the shop.

The plan had been to meet Remus at her own home, but in light of recent events, she was going to have to leave a report for Dumbledore at headquarters; that had to take priority over more desirable plans, so Tonks Apparated to the edge of the block and quickly went toward the house.

Not wanting to wake Walburga’s portrait, Tonks let herself in and carefully walked down the dank stairs to the kitchen.

She had taken to listening at doors lately in order to avoid intruding upon any uncomfortable discussions. Remus and Sirius had been dancing around one another for three days, ever since Sirius’s outburst and verbal attack on their relationship. Tonks herself held no grudge and understood that Sirius was simply venting in the wrong way to the wrong people; Remus, however, had been cold and distant with his friend, and she knew that at some point they would have to come to verbal blows. They couldn’t avoid an issue causing that much tension for long. And as it turned out, she was right.

“I can’t talk about this right now, Sirius; it's time for me to go off and be irresponsible and childish.”

The sound of something smashing against a wall rang out and she instinctively took a step back.

“******, Remus! I told you I was sorry for that. How many times do you want to hear it?”

“Clearly one more.”

Sirius sighed heavily, and she thought she heard a chair being scooted away from the table.

“Remus,” Sirius said heavily. “I have never known you to refuse an apology. You forgave me for nearly making you a murderer, for Christ’s sake, not that Snivellus didn’t deserve to die or anything, but the point is, you forgave me, so what is really going on here?” He paused a moment before adding very quietly, “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

There was a long pause and Tonks ripped herself away from the door. This was a conversation between two old friends, and she had no right to hear it. If there was something that Remus needed to talk about with her, then he would; she was certain of it. She trusted him.

Tonks headed back upstairs and settled herself into the library and opened the note for Borgin. It contained nothing more than a few sentences requesting an item of unknown origin, reputed to allow the holder of said item to control the mind of any animal.

Summoning several books to her, Tonks set to work researching the artifact.

Fifteen minutes later, she had managed to exhaust all of her resources, finding very little by way of description or origin. All she had really been able to dig up was that the item was reportedly an amulet made of jade. Slightly frustrated, she made a copy for herself, then folded one for Dumbledore and sealed it with a wave of her wand. Quietly, she made her way to the foyer, both reports in her hand.

Deliberately, she knocked over the umbrella stand and stomped the floor to imitate the sound of a fall. As expected, her aunt wailed and cursed until Remus and Sirius came out to help cover the woman up again.

“Sorry,” Tonks said, more for interrupting their chat than for disrupting the painting, but of course she couldn’t tell them that.

“Quite alright,” Sirius said. “Maybe we should get rid of that old umbrella stand. I mean it’s not exactly brightening the place up, is it?”

They all looked down at the hollowed out Troll leg, sitting there, warty and disgusting, not a single umbrella in it.

“How else will I tell you all that I have come over?” Tonks teased.

“Or possibly break your neck,” Remus added, not joking.

“Yes, Sirius,” she agreed, smiling, “how else will I break my neck?”

“By all means, keep it, but if you do, I insist that you do, at some point, break your neck on it.” Sirius smiled widely before returning to the kitchen.

Remus turned to her and frowned. “How long have you really been here?”

“What makes you think I didn’t just get here?”

“For one thing, you didn’t owl me to ask where I was, and we were supposed to meet twenty minutes ago. Secondly, you are wearing my jacket, the one I left in the library.”

Tonks looked down and sighed. These double and triple shifts were really getting to her. She should never have forgotten to take the jacket off.

“I was cold,” she answered truthfully.

“Why didn’t you come to the kitchen and tell us you were here?”

“I could tell you were having a chat that both of you needed to have,” she said pressing her palm to his cheek. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Remus covered her hand with his own and smiled gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem,” she said, linking their fingers and pulling him toward the kitchen. “Speaking of problems, I have to leave this for Dumbledore.” She held up the folded parchment. “Lucius Malfoy was in the store today, and he gave me a very interesting tip.” She waved the report around and grinned. “Seems Uncle Lucky wants a pretty new amulet.”

At the mention of Lucius, a mysterious amulet and a cryptic note, Sirius poured out three glasses of firewhiskey and planted himself at the kitchen table, reading both Tonks’s report and the wayward note with interest.

“It’s suspicious, that’s for sure,” he had said after a bit, his nose deep in a book that he had summoned a moment before, looking very much like a dog on point.

“What concerns me is the mention of monkshood,” Remus mused, sipping the tea that he had chosen instead of the firewhiskey. “Certainly an animal-controlling amulet will prove useful to Voldemort, but that other note looks like more trouble than we are prepared for.”

“Oh, don’t be such a pessimist,” Sirius said without looking up from the page he was reading.

“It seems to me that they are making a potion of some sort,” Tonks added, intentionally not mentioning the obvious.

“Yeah,” Remus added, swirling the tea in his cup and not meeting her eyes, “a potion similar to Wolfsbane.”

Leave it to you to point out the very thing I was trying to avoid, she thought with annoyance.

“Not necessarily,” she countered, keeping her voice as even as possible. Tonks didn’t want to admit it, but she also suspected that Lucius was trying to alter the Wolfsbane recipe. To what end, she did not know, but her gut instinct was usually right. Still, it was better to explore all the possibilities. “There are other uses for monkshood.”

“Right,” added Sirius. “Like poison.” They sat in the kitchen deliberating over the intended use of the ingredients on the note and of the amulet for nearly an hour, until Tonks insisted that she and Remus leave before they lost any more of their time to be alone. She was pleasantly surprised to find Sirius agreeable.

“Go, we can talk tomorrow,” he said, before returning to a book on the art of cursing inanimate objects.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When morning reared its ugly head, Tonks buried herself in the covers and whimpered into her pillow. She was too comfortable to go anywhere, and she certainly didn’t want to go to Knockturn Alley and deal with her dear Uncle again. Why couldn’t she and Remus just stay in her flat all day? Wasn’t there a Muggle once who opposed a war from his bed? Lannan or Lendon or something like that. Couldn’t they do that?

Tonks rolled over to find no Remus-shaped lump in her bed and sat up in dismay.

Just as she was pulling on her robe, he entered the bedroom with a very large mug of coffee and a chocolate filled croissant, looking alert and happy.

“Could you please not look so awake,” she grumbled as she took the coffee he offered.

“Sorry,” he said, leaning close, “I’ll just climb back in bed and lounge around all day while you are at work being extra vigilant.”

“You are such a git, Remus Lupin,” she whispered with absolutely no conviction.

He pressed a kiss against her lips and she felt all of her annoyance at being out of bed melt away. A hand found her waist and pulled her closer to him without breaking the kiss, but before she could react to where the other hand had wound up, hot coffee spilled all down the front of her robe.

“Bloody sodding son of a b***ch!” She jumped back, quickly grabbing her wand from the night table and vanishing the scalding liquid. “Sorry, not you. That hurt.”

“Are you alright?” Remus asked, before waving his wand at the angry red blotches on her chest and neck, healing them with ease. “Maybe snogging and coffee aren’t a great combination.”

“Thanks and I’ll take the snoggong over the coffee any day.”

Remus grinned mischievously and wrapped himself around her, finishing the kiss they had so rudely been pulled away from.

“I think,” he said, pulling away and picking up the mug she had dropped, “I’ll refill this while you shower.”

Tonks leaned into him, missing the feeling of him, and kissed the line of his jaw, then his ear, then his lips. “Thank you. You are my hero.”

He smiled cheekily at her, kissed her forehead. “Go on, you have work in a half an hour.

Tonks sulked her way into the bathroom as he said, “I have waffles and news downstairs when you are done.”

Twenty minutes later Tonks found herself showered, dressed, awake and rather unhappy about it. She met him in the kitchen for a coffee refill and a stack of waffles far too big for her to ever eat.

“Okay,” she said eyeing the mountain of waffles with doubt, “I have waffles; now I’ll take the news.”

“Sirius did some more research after we left last night, and apparently that amulet was last owned by a wizard named Yuri Stipinov; Yuri died, his children sorted through his belongings and the amulet was nowhere to be found.”

“Can we question his children?” Tonks asked, suddenly forgetting about her breakfast.

“Eat,” Remus ordered, pointing to the waffles. “We could, but that would require one hell of a time turner. This happened in 1775.”

“Of course it did. Do we know who the descendants are?”

“No,” he said, looking pleased when she took another bite. “But Sirius was going to see what he could find today about the family.”

“Okay. Tell him thanks for me.”

“Of course. I think he’s just happy to have something to do,” he smiled ruefully, before glancing at the clock in concern. “You’re going to be late.”

“Cr*p!” Tonks jumped up from the table, narrowly missing the leg with her knee, and kissed Remus on the forehead. “Thanks for breakfast. I’ll let you know what happens with Lucius today.”

She was nearly to the front door when a hand caught her elbow and turned her around. Remus pulled her into him and pressed himself against her, his lips hovering breaths away from her.

“Be careful,” he said as he kissed her. He then gently pushed her backward and shut the door in her face.

Tonks stood on the step, staring at the outside of her own front door in a daze, the imprint of his body and lips on hers still tingling.

“I love you too, you great prat!” she called through the door, and heard a small chuckle in response. She turned and walked toward the nearest alley where it would be safe to Apparate.

Tonks arrived at Borgin and Burkes with just enough time to unlock the door and open the shades before an owl appeared in the window. It hopped down and waited patiently for her to untie the letter.

Dez,

I have had some delays and will not be back in until tomorrow evening.

Mr. Borgin.


Just perfect! Now what was she supposed to do about Malfoy?

Tonks scribbled a note in response, relating Malfoy's request for an appointment, and sent it back off with the waiting owl before resuming the drumming of her fingers on the cabinet top and glancing at the clock.

Seven hours and fifty-eight minutes. Well, at least I have Lucius to look forward to.

Here is the new post. Enjoy!

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Chapter 21
It’s all in the Timing, part 2


It was ten minutes to closing when Lucius Malfoy entered Borgin and Burkes, his black cloak whipping behind him and the tip of his cane tapping on the floorboards. He gazed vaguely about the room, as though looking for eavesdroppers, before addressing Tonks.

“Ms. Whitke,” he said. “Where is Borgin?”

“I am afraid, Mr. Malfoy, that he was detained. I passed along your request and he sent this back for you.” Tonks pulled out a folded bit of parchment that Borgin had indeed sent by return owl. The words Mr. Lucius Malfoy were neatly printed on the front.

Lucius looked at the letter as though he had never seen anything so appalling in all his life; his eyes narrowed and his lip curled in a very Snape-like snarl. Without warning, he snatched it from her hand, causing her to flinch in surprise, turned and stalked out of the shop, his cane clutched tight in his hand.

As soon as he was out of sight, Tonks wrote up a report for Dumbledore, careful not to mention any names or otherwise incriminating evidence, and then sent it off to Hogwarts with Borgin’s owl.

Closing the shop took hardly any time at all, and Tonks was locking the door when an owl landed on the front step. She let the bird in and removed the letter from its talons before shooing it back out the door.



Tonks,
New assignment. Meet me at headquarters. Now.
Kingsley


Annoyed at the letter and at being taken off of an assignment before she was able to produce any results, Tonks Apparated straight into the Ministry building, stewing with irritation all the way to level two.

“You couldn’t wait until I figured out what the heck is going on with Lucius? Kingsley, you have terrible timing!” she yelled once she was safely ensconced in Kingsley’s Silenced cubicle.

The Auror raised his hands in defeat. “It’s not my fault, Tonks. You weren’t getting enough information, and something’s come up that we need investigated.”

“I am in the middle of pinning something on Malfoy, something big. You know it, you read my report - ”

“That,” he interrupted, “is an Order matter. This is the Ministry. Fudge doesn’t give a Hippogriff’s tail feathers if Malfoy’s brewing potions or buying amulets.”

“But - ”

“No. You keep on Malfoy for the Order, but as far as your paying job goes, you are now investigating the death of Preston Grumble.”

Tonks was about to snap back at him that she didn't care what Fudge thought but stopped short upon hearing that name.

“Grumble? The potions dealer?”

Kingsley nodded. “And you’re being partnered.”

“Partnered? Why the bloody hell am I being partnered for a homicide investigation? What the sodding - ”

“Stop! I am partnering you for Order purposes. We need to keep an eye on some of the other Aurors, remember? I’ve put you with Spectra Sherwood, so you can keep an eye on Pyle a little better.”

“Sherwood?” Tonks asked, surprised by his choice of Aurors to be her partner. “After what happened in September? Do Death Eaters ring a bell for you?”

“That was Pyle, not Sherwood. We have no reason to suspect that she had anything to do with that. He was off duty that day, Tonks and Sherwood was not there.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but logic stalled her. He was right, Tonks admitted to herself. The Order really needed to watch the other Ministry employees, and she had been too busy for the last few months to properly keep on Pyle. Sure, they were still friendly and she would chat with any one of the group whenever she had a moment in the office, but it wasn’t enough. This was a smart move, and Kingsley was right to make it, but it didn’t bug her any less.

“Fine,” she said, dejectedly. “Give me the file.”

Kingsley passed the file to her and grinned slightly.

“What?” she asked at his apparent amusement.

“Just that you should have a bit more say over your hours now,” he said smoothly, as though commenting on the weather. “You’ll have more time to plan your dates.”

Tonks settled a steely glare on him, silently challenging him to say more and refusing to let his ribbing get to her.

“No more all-day shifts on Knockturn Alley,” he continued.

She continued to glare, dead-set on not giving him any information at all about her personal life.

“More free evenings.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“You must be mistaken,” Tonks finally said. “I only make dates with my mother and Padfoot.”

Kingsley nodded to her and relented with a sigh, but just as she had stepped out of his cubicle and the Silencing spell was broken, he broke into a loud coughing fit that sounded distinctly like the word “Lupin.”

Spectra Sherwood was eyeing her across the room as she walked away from Kingsley and his “coughing fit,” her head as high as it would go despite his best efforts to embarrass her.

“Come on,” she said to Sherwood, tossing Grumble’s file at her. “We’re on this one.”

Sherwood spat something at Tonks’s quickly shrinking back, but the pink-haired Auror heard none of it. The only thing on her mind was how fast she could get this case closed and get away from Spectra Sherwood.

Sherwood caught up with Tonks in the elevator and spent the ride skimming Grumble’s file. Once they were in line for the Floos, she handed it back and shrugged on her coat.

“So,” the bulky woman said, “where are we off to in such a rush?”

“The Crow’s Craw. I saw Grumble there a few months ago. He seemed pretty friendly with the bartender.”

The pub was nearly empty when Tonks and Sherwood walked in, save for the two old men aimlessly pushing chess pieces around a battered old board. One of the men’s queen looked to be asleep, and the other appeared likely to follow.

The gruff bartender that Tonks remembered was poised behind the bar, ready to serve the new patrons, but he seemed to realize that they would not be buying before they even reached the bar.

“Who you looking for?” he asked.

“Who says we’re looking for anybody?” Tonks responded.

“You’re that Auror, ain’t ya?”

Tonks didn’t respond, so the bartender went on, seemingly anxious to get something out of her.

“You’re a Metamorph. Related to the Malfoys, too.”

“Where did you get that idea?” Sherwood asked, looking convincingly confused.

“She was in here a few months back. Only she was morphed.” He pointed at Tonks with a grubby finger.

This time Tonks did react. She propped herself up onto a barstool and leaned over the bar to get as close to the man as possible and said, “Now, where would you hear a story like that?”

The scruffy man eyed her anxiously before saying, “After you left that day, Flint told me.”

Bloody, sodding idiot!

“Not a bright man, our Flint Pyle,” Sherwood said in a conspiratorial and joking kind of tone. “What are we going to do with him?”

“Dunno. S’pose the Ministry ought to set him to rights if he be telling secrets,” he said in an unsure voice, and Tonks wasn’t clear as to whether he meant to appease them or because he really thought that way.

“Too right,” Tonks added. “Now, can you tell me when the last time you saw Preston Grumble was?”

The bartender shifted uncomfortably and looked at everything except the women in front of him.

“Look, we’re not going to bust you for letting him deal in here.” Sherwood smiled at him disarmingly, and he visibly relaxed at her words. “If you tell us when he was last here, and who he talked to,” she added stiffly.

His eyes darted from one Auror to the other and back, jaw muscles quivering and his fingers fidgeting with the rag in his apron pocket.

“Come on, tell us and we’ll go away. Promise,” Tonks smiled at him. Without any more prompting he caved, telling them everything he knew about Preston Grumble.

WOW! Sorry the gap between updates has been so huge. Life has a habit of getting in the way, darn it! This is a nice long post for you, hope you like.



Chapter 22
(Un)Disclosed

What had initially promised to be a big pay-off of information from Templeton, the grubby and morally questionable bartender of the Crow’s Craw, turned out to be next to nothing. The best that Tonks and Sherwood could dig up was that Grumble regularly did business in the pub, made possible by striking up a deal with the bartender in order to keep his dealings a secret, and that the last time he'd been in the pub was nearly a week prior to his death. He had met a man that Templeton had never seen before and described as tall and wide with thinning black hair. Unfortunately the bartender did not know a name and as far as he could tell, the two did their business and left without incident.

That was it. No distinguishing features, no identification, no idea what the man was buying…nothing.

Sherwood drew her cloak tighter around her as they stepped out into the bitter cold.

“That was cr*p,” the burly Auror commented.

“Yeah, it was,” Tonks agreed and fell silent for a few minutes, deciding what to do next. Finally, she came to an abrupt decision. “Bugger it!” she mumbled, turning back to the door. “Let’s have another chat.”

Throwing the door wide open and marching into the pub, Tonks (with Sherwood very close behind) skipped all of the niceties, barged behind the long oak bar and grabbed Templeton around the collar, bringing her wand to his Adam’s Apple.

“My partner and I are not happy with the way you answered our questions.”

Templeton stared at her as though she had gone mental but said nothing.

“Sherwood, why don’t you clear those nice people out for a bit?”

Templeton winced as the other Auror began to muscle the few customers out into the winter cold and locked the door after the last one. She turned around again and smiled.

“All alone,” Sherwood said in a singsong voice, as she walked back to them, menacingly.

“Now.” Tonks turned her attention back to the man she had at wand-point. “We want to know who Grumble’s regulars were and what they bought.”

“I…I…don’t...,” he stammered.

“Don’t say you don’t know,” Sherwood spat and Tonks pressed her wand tighter against Templeton’s throat.

“I only know a few…only a few,” he said, panicked and jittery.

“Well, get on with it.”

“There’s Waterly, Hydra Waterly. She was here a few times a month.”

“And…,” Tonks coaxed.

“Don’t know what she bought, but…er…there was Orton Dainter. He bought Felix Felicis.”

Sherwood snorted and shook her head. “Dainter’s been in Azkaban for months. You’ll have to do better than that.”

Templeton wiggled uncomfortably, but apparently found some last little bit of bravery because he gave them both a defiant look and clamped his mouth shut.

“Look,” Tonks said, leaning in and pressing her wand up under the man’s chin. “I don’t want to arrest you, but if I do, you will be put to a Veritaserum test and asked all sorts of questions. Questions like, have you seen this woman?”

With a quick scrunch of her face, Tonks felt that familiar sting behind her eye sockets. The sharp intake of breath by Templeton told her that she had got it right.

When she opened her eyes, she could see the horror on Templeton’s face and she offered him a twisted smile.

In her peripheral vision she could see Sherwood move to stand directly behind her.

“They’ll ask,” Sherwood said in even, uncaring tones, “if you’ve seen any of them and then the Ministry will send you to Azkaban where many of their comrades are waiting for an excuse to tear someone from limb to limb. A rat, a traitor. That is what they’ll call you. Are you prepared for that?”

Templeton seemed to weigh her words before he opened his mouth to speak. “All right,” he said, heavy trembling in his voice revealing just how unnerved he was. “There was something he was working on. He told me that he was creating it from scratch – a new potion. He wouldn’t tell me what it was supposed to do, but I know he was under a lot of pressure from the people who had commissioned him. He came in looking pretty beat-up a couple times.”

“Very good.” Tonks lessened some of the pressure from her wand, but pressed on. “Who was he working for?”

“I don’t know,” Templeton insisted. “Just that they were out of the country. He would go away for days at a time to deal with them. That’s all I know, really.”

Sighing, but in far better spirits than before, Tonks let the bartender go, shoving him roughly back against the bar.

“Thanks for your help,” Sherwood said, her tone sugar-coated, as Tonks made for the door, her aunt Bellatrix’s face melting away.

Together, the Aurors exited the pub and turned a quick corner into a tiny alley.

“I think he was telling the truth,” Sherwood offered after a moment.

Tonks nodded her agreement. “We’ll have to see if he took any international Portkeys or Floos. I doubt he’d have done it officially, but we’ll have to check.”

There were several moments when the two simply stood, breathing in the frosty winter air, not entirely sure where to go next, either with the case or each other. Tonks had found herself surprised with Sherwood’s cooperation while questioning Templeton. The woman’s collaboration with Pyle had never given Tonks any reason to regard her as anything but lazy and crooked, but suddenly she wasn’t so sure.

“It’s getting late,” Sherwood said unexpectedly. “Why don’t we shove off and meet back at the office in the morning, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Tonks agreed, nodding. She wanted to stop back in Borgin and Burkes anyway, see if maybe Lucius had been back.

Sherwood went straight for the Leaky Cauldron, disappearing around the corner and out of Knockturn Alley. Tonks waited while the other Auror made her way to less questionable surroundings, ruminating on the change in attitude Sherwood had exhibited. Only a few months ago the woman had been rude and interfering, even accusing Tonks of various vague offenses and now she was…well, she was helpful and professional. Something was out of character, but what? Was the insulting and paranoid woman her true face, or was it the professional?

Several minutes went by before Tonks sneaked into a discreet corner and morphed.

Borgin and Burkes was as silent and dank as ever. There were no patrons inside and the few candles that lit the shop peppered the merchandise with glittering spots of yellow light, making them look far more menacing than usual.

Hearing the tiny brass bell above the door jingle, Borgin emerged from the back room and, upon seeing his guest, plastered a smile on his face that didn’t quite cover up the frustration.

Are we annoyed with the Malfoys, Mr. Borgin? Whatever for?

“Mrs. Malfoy,” he simpered. “Lovely to see you again. How may I assist you?”

Tonks did not smile at him but instead walked closer and removed the fur-lined hat that she had transfigured from one of her gloves. Transfiguring clothing was always tricky, as the pieces tended not to hold their new form well or for very long, but she couldn’t just go shopping as her haughty aunt in Auror’s robes, now could she?

Borgin squirmed slightly as she approached, but covered it well.

“My husband sent me to get this.” She shoved a tattered piece of parchment at him.

Much to her satisfaction, Borgin asked no questions as he unfolded the note and read it through. It was an exact copy of the one Lucius had left a few days before, requesting the amulet.

He had waved his wand over the note when he left it for Borgin, and Tonks was more than a little suspicious that a vital piece of information had been removed from it. Perhaps Borgin could be tricked into revealing what that was; to that end she had ripped off a section at the bottom, hoping that he would simply assume something else had been written on the parchment.

“Mrs. Malfoy,” he said, looking up from the crumpled and torn parchment, a hint of suspicion in his eyes. “Your husband was just here less than an hour ago to discuss this matter.”

What? Cr*p!

“W-was he?” she asked, forcing an indignant tone instead of a shocked one. “He should not send me on errands if he intends to handle them himself.”

The little man gave a nervous smile and nodded slightly. “He said you were in Quality Quidditch Supplies with young Master Malfoy.”

“Right,” she began, but didn’t know what else to say, so she shut her mouth and stuck up her nose.

“He was in a hurry, said you had a dinner party at Minister Fudge’s at six.”

“I…er…yes, I should hurry, then.” Tonks bowed her head condescendingly. “Good day.”

Turning on her heel and keeping her back as rigidly proper as possible, Tonks strode out of the shop and immediately Disapparated.

Shaken, she practically sprinted into the house, her heart beating far too fast. By some sort of divine intervention, she managed to skirt the umbrella stand and make her way safely and quietly past the portrait and into the kitchen, where she found Sirius and Kingsley deep in conversation, their heads close together and voices low.

Both men looked up and froze. Kingsley was first to react by jumping up and drawing his wand on her, screaming for her to tell him how she had found the house. Sirius, however, began to laugh loudly, sputtering phrases like “down-right wrong” and “twisted, kinky love games.”

“Kingsley,” Tonks stared. “what the bloody hell is wrong with you?”

The bald man’s eyes squinted for a brief second before he huffed and growled out, “Tonks, if Mad-Eye were here, he’d have cursed you first and asked questions after.”

“Good thing you’re inconstantly vigilant, then,” Sirius said, laughing.

“Oh!” she cried, suddenly remembering that she still looked like her aunt Narcissa. “Sorry. I’ve been holding some stressful morphs today. Sometimes it's hard to let them go if I’m too tense.” This was true, but she was a bit embarrassed by her forgetfulness.

When she had fixed her face, she turned her attention to Sirius and frowned. “What do you mean, ‘twisted, kinky love games'? What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“I thought you were up in Remus’s room earlier, so when you came down here looking…well…I just assumed that you forgot to…er….”

“Sirius Black, you are a creepy, creepy man.No, I was not in Remus’s room, I was working, and even if I were in his room, it would not be any concern of yours. Why did you think I was in his room, anyway?”

“Thought I heard something breaking up there earlier,” he grinned cheekily at her.

“Contrary to what you may believe, I do not go around breaking things in other people’s bedrooms”

Far from being insulted or daunted, Sirius smiled and tipped his chair back on two legs, openly appraising her. “Think I hit a nerve. Doesn’t Moony let you in his room anymore?”

Tonks let out an annoyed growl as Kingsley laughed through an ineffective palm. It was just as she was about to reprimand him for being overly nosey when Remus walked through the open kitchen door and remarked, “I told you he would be impossible,” before walking directly to the tea pot and making himself a cup.

“Have you always listened in at doors for the opportunity to say ‘I told you so’?” she spat coldly.

“It was open, and I could hear you three all the way down the hall,” Remus said in measured tones, as he poured milk in his cup.

“Aww,” Sirius sighed. “A lovers’ quarrel. Sweet, isn’t it Kingsley?”

“So,” Kingsley said, clearly changing the subject to keep himself out of it, “how did your day with Sherwood go?”

“Not bad. We got some useful information. It may take a while to build on it, but it is a solid start.” Tonks sat next to Kingsley with a tired and irritated huff. “Templeton said that Grumble was working on some kind of a new potion for some rich somebody overseas. Said Grumble came back a few times pretty beaten-up.

“Sherwood turned out more supportive and smarter than I gave her credit for. I’m a little bit flummoxed, to tell the truth. I had her pegged as lazy and cheating, but she had my back and seemed invested in the case,” Tonks confided, a bit confused by the day’s events. She preferred to know where she stood with people, and having her perception of someone thrown into question like that only served to make her uneasy.

“Sherwood may surprise you, Tonks. When she was new, only a few years before you stumbled in,” Kingsley grinned as Tonks shot him a glare, “she was very eager, very ambitious.”

“And Pyle changed that?”

“I don’t know what happened, but somewhere along the line her attitude changed. You might feel her out a bit, see what she’s got up her sleeve, but be careful. She could very well be more trouble than she’s worth.”

“Quite a pair they’ll make then,” Sirius added. “More trouble than they’re worth, the both of them.”

“What is your problem today?” Tonks demanded. “You’re truly obnoxious right now.”

“Am I not always?”

“Anyway,” Kingsley said, “what was the reason for the…” he waved a vague hand up and down in front of her.

“What? The Narcissa thing? Well, I needed a bit more information, so I stopped by Borgin an – ”

“What?!” Remus spun around, sloshing tea out of his cup and onto his shoes, and Sirius looked up quickly, eyes wide with concern.

“What?” Tonks looked from one man to another.

“That note about the amulet, it was charmed to alert Lucius if it was copied. He knows you copied it,” Remus said, setting his mug down and taking a few steps toward her.

“Good thing you didn’t go as Dez,” Sirius added, looking no less frazzled. “They’d have had you tied up and gagged in the back room in seconds.”

“You went looking like Narcissa?” Remus was regarding her with a solid mixture of concern and admiration. It was not every day that a man like Remus, so talented and clever and powerful, looked at clumsy little Tonks like that. It was perhaps the best look in the world, and she took a moment to enjoy it.

“Okay, that’s enough with the longing stares, you two,” Sirius said, bringing her back to reality. “You can gaze into each others eyes later. Tonks, what happened in Borgin and Burkes?”

Between the near misses all damn day and Sirius’s flippancy, she hit her tolerance limit. She didn't really mean to, but her answer was shouted out before she knew it. “First, why didn't somebody tell me about this?”

“We couldn’t send a Patronus with Sherwood around, and we couldn’t trust that information in a letter.” Kingsley supplied, having the grace to look appologetic.

Knowing perfectly well that he was right, Tonks folded her arms across her chest and seethed silently.

“You can’t go anywhere looking like Dez Whitke anymore. The Death Eaters will certainly be on the look-out for her face.” Remus had moved to sit next to her and placed a discreet hand on her knee. He squeezed comfortingly, but she didn’t look at him.

“He’s right,” Kingsley added, looking grim. “Borgin will have contacted the references you supplied on your job application if they suspected you of wrong-doing.”

“Who’re your references?” Sirius asked.

“Just other Aurors who would lie to keep my cover,” Tonks answered. “I guess I’ll know soon just how angry Lucius is.”

Suddenly the door burst open and the crooked figure of Mad-Eye Moody filled the doorway.

“Nymphadora!” he boomed.

“Guess you’ll know sooner rather than later,” Sirius quipped under his breath.

Mad-Eye’s magical eye spun around a few times before settling on the heavy tabletop just about where Remus’s hand rested on Tonks’s thigh underneath.

Remus did not remove his hand. She wanted to kiss him for that tiny, sweet act of defiance, for not denying what they had become to each other, even under the scrutiny of Mad-Eye’s intrusive gaze. It was touching that his desire to comfort her won out over his self-consciousness, and even his self-preservation.

Tonks had to suppress a hysterical giggle at that last thought and at the sheer ridiculousness of the entire day.

“How manytimes have I had to tell you, girl? Constant vigilance!” The craggy old man thundered at her. “You have nearly revealed yourself to the enemy! Lucius Malfoy wrote every single person you listed as a reference with some malarkey about wanting to hire you for a personal project. What the bleeding hell did you do to tip him off?”

For a broken old man, Mad-Eye was surprisingly frightening, magical, swiveling eye notwithstanding, and, at that moment, he would have scared a lesser woman to tears. Tonks, however, knew Mad-Eye better than most, and having been reprimanded by him many times in the past, looked straight ahead and squared her shoulders. She did not answer, knowing that he didn’t really care what she had to say; he was there to tell her that she screwed up, not to hear excuses.

“Reckless! You know you have to be above suspicion, especially in your position as an Order Member. If Malfoy suspects that the Ministry is watching him – fine! But if he puts the pieces together and realizes that you are working both sides, you’re target number one, Tonks! Target number one!”

Mad-Eye paused for a breath, but was forestalled by Remus rising from his seat, one of his hands grasped firmly around one of hers.

“Sorry, Alastor, I realize that this is a very touchy situation, but I believe Tonks has had a very tiring day and would like to get some rest.”

With a small tug, Remus coaxed a shocked Tonks out of her seat; past an irate (and thankfully speechless) Mad-Eye, an amused Sirius, and an impressed Kingsley; out the door; up the stairs and finally into his small, neat room, where he kissed her forehead, wrapped himself around her, pulled up the thick, warm blanket and let her drift off into an exhausted sleep without once telling her that she had failed or erred or let him down. Grateful for his understanding, she slipped off into oblivion, guarded against any disturbing dreams by thoughts of protective werewolves.



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Phew! That took a very long time. Hope you enjoyed. Happiness is feedback. (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?p=3544168#post3544168)

A/N: I am so sorry that this has taken soooo long to get to you. Thank you a million times over for your patience. And thank you to Celtmama for her amazing beta skillz! So, without further delay, Chapter 23, Love's Labors Lost.

Valentine’s Day approached, cold and bright, and, much to Tonks’s dismay, busy. She and Sherwood had spent the better part of two weeks reading the last year’s worth of International Portkey Documents, looking for anything with Grumble’s name on it. They had made it all the way up through November before February 14th dawned, and Tonks was handed an unexpected assignment.

“Hey!,” Kingsley said as she tried to sneak out of her cubicle, with the idea of skiving off to plan for that evening. “No, you don’t.”

Tonks gave him an innocent look and said, “Don’t what?”

“Don’t sneak off at ten in the morning to plan your escapades.” Kingsley glared when she opened her mouth to retort and immediately cut her off. “Which I really don’t want to hear about.”

“I wasn’t…oh, alright. I was,” she admitted, adding, “It’s Saturday,” with a tinge of a whine.

“Yes, I know. But, sorry, you have been given an assignment.”

Tonks looked sharply up at him, taking in the parchment in his hand and the traveling cloak around his shoulders. “I’m already on an assignment.”

“Well, you’ve got another. Just for today though.”

There had been something about the way he was turned towards her, his back to the rest of the cubicles and his head bent more than necessarily to talk to her that didn’t sit quite right.

“Are we on this one together?”

Kingsley nodded and held out the parchment for her to take. At once she recognized the loopy handwriting on the outside of the folded page. Without bothering to open it, she picked up her quill, grabbed a spare corner of parchment from her desk (knocked over a cup of spare quills), and scrawled out a note to Sherwood explaining her absence.

Without another word, she and Kingsley made their way out of the building and onto the street above.

“So, what’s this all about?” she asked when they were well away from the Ministry.

“Dumbledore doesn’t write notes if he doesn’t want you to read them,” he said mockingly.

Tonks rolled her eyes, careful to do it so that he could see, before unfolding the page and reading.

Ms. Tonks,

As I am sure you are aware, today is Valentine’s Day. It just so happens, of which I am certain you are also aware, that this lovely day falls on a Saturday. This is particularly fortunate for the students who have the privilege of visiting Hogsmeade Village (as well as Madam Puddifoot, I suspect).

Harry is among this lucky group, but I am afraid that it is far too dangerous for him to be out of the safety of Hogwart’s gates without some measure of protection. However, I am entirely unwilling to refuse him passage beyond said gates on this, of all days.

Therefore, I’m requesting that you, along with Mr. Shacklebolt and Mr. Fletcher, position yourself in the village so that the Order may supervise him. Of course, you may choose to decline due to other previously arranged plans, but please advise Mr. Shacklebolt if this is the case so that we may find a replacement.

Yours,

Albus Dumbledore

Tonks set the note alight with a lazy flick of her wand and looked, rather dejectedly, at Kingsley. “Well, lets go, then.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hogsmeade was abuzz with students, mostly grouped in pairs of two, some holding hands, some chatting awkwardly, and some hiding in corners snogging. Tonks, on the other hand, was sitting, disgruntled and alone, at a corner table in what she viewed as the most ridiculous and grossly fluffy establishment ever to be built. She didn’t have anything against Madam Puddifoot, per se, but her coffee shop really was revolting.

There were hearts of every size, along with pinks streamers and red confetti and floating cherubs; it all made Tonks want to puke. Or scream. She couldn’t quite decide which.

Kingsley had gone off to wander the perimeter of town, and Dung had set himself in the Hog’s Head (as usual). Tonks wasn’t sure how she managed to get herself stuck in Madam Puddifoot’s, but given her apprehension about later that night, the overly festive atmosphere was doing nothing to quell her nerves.

She had been so caught up in her own silent planning and worrying that she almost didn’t notice when Harry and some pretty girl walked in. Poor Harry looked as though he might turn tail and run for the hills at any moment. The girl he was with, however, appeared to be immensely happy to be there.

I feel your suffering, Harry.

Tonks watched them, careful not to overhear any of their conversation, until the girl suddenly wailed out a sob and ran from the shop, leaving Harry stunned and bewildered.

He chased after her, and Tonks made her way from the shop in time to see Harry enter the Three Broomsticks. Just outside the door, the smell of rancid tobacco filled her nostrils.

Dung shuffled up behind her and absently blew a cloud of smoke into her face. He was dressed in a long black robe with a wooly scarf pulled up over his mouth and a thick fur hat tipped low over his forehead.

“Hey, Dung,” she said. “Harry just went inside - can you go in and keep an eye on him? I’m going to talk to Kingsley.”

“Yeah. Fine.” He scooted inside.

Kinsgley was walking towards the main street from the forest when Tonks found him, fifteen minutes later. He looked cold, windswept and grumpy. She took a moment to reconsider, but decided to plow ahead anyway.

“Dung’s watching Harry in the Broomsticks,” she said when they had reached one another. “If it’s alright with you I am going to take off.”

Kingsley gave her a reproving glance, and Tonks was sure he was going to tell her no, that he was going to pull rank on her, but when he opened his mouth to speak, he was smiling.

“Go on, then,” he said and chuckled lightly. “I expect Lupin’s waiting.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she called over her shoulder as she turned on her heel and Disapparated.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dinner was a problem. They were supposed to be at the park at three (forty-five minutes from now!) if they wanted even remotely decent seats, and the theatre troupe had confirmed that the show would last until well after eight, but she had unknowingly made their dinner reservation for seven. How were they going to see the plays and make it to dinner? They would have to leave the park early, but she really didn’t think either of them would want to do so. This was a rare treat, seeing this troupe.

Then the solution hit her: a picnic! The stage was set in the center of a park, with vast lawns surrounding it. Tonks could see no reason why they couldn’t picnic there, and it made it even more romantic. Knowing Remus, he would be happier with a humble basket of treats than a dimly lit, pretentious restaurant anyway.

Sometimes, I am a genius.

At quarter to, Tonks was shoving the last of the food into a pretty wicker basket. She had charmed a blanket to stay dry, even if the grass did not, and done the same to her cloak. She would have to make sure that Remus followed suit.

The bell rang and she felt butterflies take up a haphazard flight inside her stomach. Why did her turn to plan a date fall on Valentine’s Day, when it actually counted? How was that fair?

Tonks opened the door to find Remus looking quite handsome in a pair of simple black trousers and a plain black button-up. Neither looked new, but they were pressed within an inch of their lives and fit him very well.

“Hi,” she said, moving to let him in.

He left a small kiss on her forehead as he passed, whispering, “You look beautiful.”

Tonks blushed.

“So, what are we doing?”

“We,” she said, crossing to him and wrapping her arms around his neck, “are going to see the Rose Theatre Troupe do three of Shakespeare’s classics, Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet and The Tempest at Circe Park and,” she continued happily, “I’ve packed a picnic, complete with a very nice, probably expensive, bottle of wine nicked from my parents’ stash. Oh, and a chocolate cake. Don’t worry, I didn’t make it.”

Remus’s smile faltered, and he stiffened but did not speak. The change in atmosphere was undeniable, however, and couldn’t be ignored.

“What?” Tonks asked.

“Circe Park?” His tone was too steady; she knew he was struggling to keep his emotions in check, which she didn’t like at all.

“Yes, why?”

“Well, it’s…” He was quiet for a moment, as though carefully choosing his words. “It’s quite…open.”

“You’re concerned about an attack?” she asked, understanding starting to dawn. He must be worried about being in such a public and unprotected place, what with Lucius and the others suspicious and on edge. But Voldemort was lying low; they wouldn’t make a move in front of all those people. “I could morph if it would make you more comfortable. Who do you want me to be?” She teased, nipping at his earlobe.

“No, it isn’t that; it wouldn't matter what you looked like.” He pulled away slightly. “It’s just that Circe Park is right in the middle of Magical London, and there are so many people that travel through there, not to mention those who will be there for this show… I…”

“What, Remus?” Tonks asked after he trailed off and failed to finish his thought.

“Maybe we could stay in?”

Tonks stared at him. There were simply no words to describe her confusion. ‘Stay in’? Why would he want to do that?

“What?” she finally managed as she stepped back from him. “I thought you would love to see them. They’re only here a few times a year and I was sure that the idea of - ”

“Tonks, wait.” he cut her off. “I would love to see them, but I just don’t think it’s a good idea. There are safety issues to consider, among other things.”

“You’re not making any sense. The Death Eaters, even if they had a reason to attack either one of us, wouldn’t do it so publicly. They aren’t ready for open war yet and you know it.”

“Yes, I do know. It isn’t about that.”

Realization hit her like a bolt of lightning, and she struggled not to scream at him. “Do explain yourself, Remus. I’m dying to know why you’re refusing to be seen in public with me.” The small wince he made gave her a tiny sense of satisfaction, so she let her words hang there between them, refusing to either apologize or retract them.

He was the one being the world-class git anyway.

“You’re twisting my meaning, Tonks. I just think that it is unwise to display the nature of our relationship to such a large audience.”

“We’re not going to be on the bloody stage, Remus!” This was more of a yell, but she felt rather validated in raising her voice.

“I know that. There, is, however, the matter of a few hundred wizards and witches in one small place, most of whom will know me.”

“Two friends can’t see a show together?” she asked, a definite twinge of sarcasm in her voice.

“Not on Valentine’s Day!”

“Oh, I see.” Tonks took a few steps back to distance herself from him, while her blood pounded in her ears and her pulse quickened in anger. “I understand now. You are ashamed of our relationship! I’m good enough to share a bed with, but not good enough to tell the world about. How dare -”

“That’s not it at all!” He cut her off, his voice slightly louder than normal, but still steady.

“You are not making sense! I don’t understand why we are standing here, fighting, and not enjoying Valentine’s Day. You say you’re not ashamed of me, or of us, but you don’t want to go; you say you’re not afraid of an attack, but you say it isn’t safe. Please, Remus, just tell me what the bleeding hell you’re talking about!”

He had started to pace, once across the entryway and back again, running his hands through his hair. He was flustered, she could tell, but he wasn’t being open with her. Whatever the reason for his refusal of her carefully planned date, it was buried deep under a thick layer of stubbornness, and Tonks was nearing the end of her patience with him.

“You are ashamed, aren’t you?” she asked quietly, as he continued to pace, clearly avoiding her gaze.

“No.”

“Then why are we still being so secretive?”

Remus stopped and turned towards her. “Your entire family knows, Dumbledore, Sirius, Kingsley, Bill and now…and now Mad-Eye. If that’s your idea of “secretive”, you may want to brush up on your Auror training.”

Tonks simply stared. He had spoken with such an odd mixture of regret and malice that she was stunned into silence. It was another few moments before her anger at the insult caught up with her and she was able to talk again.

“Oh, I’m sorry, have I let our little secret out?” she spat, sarcasm and hurt oozing from her words. “And you told Moody, not me. But it’s alright, I’m sure Dumbledore will forgive his golden boy and just chalk it up to uncontrollable male hormones. A Metamorphmagus, after all, what man could resist? Surely you aren’t to blame, Professor. It was all that clumsy little tart’s fault. Well, never fear: your reputation won’t be tarnished, and I don't have a good reputation to ruin anyway.”

“What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me. You're talking like it’s unfortunate that people know about us, like it's a problem.” Tonks was seething, fists clenched with the effort of not hauling off and slapping him.

“I wonder,” she continued, unable to dam up the flood of emotion, “why I try sometimes, when by and large, I'm the one who's tried to push things farther. You tend to just sit back and enjoy the ride. Must be lovely for you, all safe and remote, no emotional involvement. ”

She was really losing any level of self-control at that point. Her indignation over his insults and her frustration with his cryptic reasoning had reached the boiling point, and now things were bubbling up that she'd never realized had irritated her before. “Would we have gotten to this point if I hadn't dragged you along? I thought, maybe, that you saw me as an equal.”

Even though I'm not, I know I'm not. she thought, suddenly wanting to cry.

“You know what?” he asked after a moment. “It is clear that we are not understanding each other. I’m going to go.”

“No, you are not! You are going to stand there and explain to me what the hell this is all about, in plain English! Either that, or admit that we have reached a dead end.”

He stopped his march for the door and turned back around, a sharp look to his features. Suddenly he seemed very dangerous, almost predatory. Instead of being afraid, though, Tonks was livid. He didn’t get to be threatening; she was the one being done an injustice, not him. He needed to wipe that wolfish expression off of his face and fast.

“A dead end?” he repeted, his mouth barely moving.

“Yes! If you can’t be trusting enough to tell me what the problem is without resorting to insults or revisiting fifth year communication skills, then this relationship has just fallen down a big, black hole.”

“Oh, right,” he said, rather more composedly than she was expecting, “because you have been the queen of maturity, jumping to conclusions, putting words in my mouth.”

“I put words in your mouth because you don’t seem to have any of your own. Talk to me and I wouldn’t have to!”

“I have been talking to you. It isn’t my fault that you aren’t understanding.”

“What is there to understand? I have yet to hear something that makes sense - all you've done is stand there and insult me the whole damn time!”

“I’m leaving.” Remus strode to the door and Tonks made no move to stop him.

Just as he reached for the knob, she spoke. “I just don’t see why you can't come out and say...whatever it is you need to say.”.”

Remus stopped and turned very slowly back to her. “That,” he said quietly, “is because we're not on equal footing.”

Shock, hurt, anger – they were all vying for the top spot, and Tonks simply didn’t know what to say or how to say it. How could he just play on her insecurities and not know how much it would tear at her?

Remus glanced back at her, and his eyes narrowed for a moment before he turned away. The door slammed, with the two of them on opposite sides.

The sound reverberated in her ears and sent angry tingles down her spine. She could feel her face burning with indignation while she stared at the spot where he had stood seconds ago.

Had he really just said that she was not his equal? Where did this high-and-mighty attitude suddenly come from? Had she misjudged him so spectacularly that she had somehow missed his true nature? She had clearly misjudged them as a couple.

If she was going to be honest with herself, she had known for a long time that he was leagues above her. He was more talented, more composed and far more mature. She was just a clumsy kid, after all, who idolized him a bit more than she should. No, that wasn’t true, she respected and admired him, but the idealization had faded long ago. And it was clear now that the respect and admiration should have gone as well.

Slowly, Tonks made her way to the sofa. She drew a shawl around her shoulders and sat, numb and empty, staring into the cold fireplace.

As the seconds passed, and the minutests turned to hours, her breathing settled, and her anger faded into fear. Fear of never being able to decode what had transpired between them, fear of never being able to fix it. Finally even the fear managed to dissolve, but what it became was far worse – it melted into a thick, black choking despair.

There was a gaping hole where something, she wasn’t even sure what it had been, used to live inside her. She hadn’t even known it was there, until it wasn’t anymore. Suddenly Tonks felt alone, completely alone. It came as a shock to discover that Remus had managed to fit himself so deeply into her soul without her even realizing it; now that he was gone, it seemed like he'd taken everything with him, even the breath in her lungs.



Feedback likes you, show Feedback you like her too. (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704&page=37)

I know, I know! I've been off the map for a while. I'm sorry. But here is a new chapter, hopefully you will all enjoy. Thanks to Celtmama for the beta and for the gallons of support while I wallowed in self doubt. You put up with a lot of my crud and I thank you.


At first, just after Remus had gone, Tonks was certain that he would return. He would barge right back inside, a scowl and an explanatory word or two on his lips, the vein at his temple throbbing as it always did. She was so certain, in fact, that she stood just inside the door, stance squared, resolve solid, and waited for him. He did not, however, barge back in; he did not return at all, annoyed or otherwise, and Tonks was left to listen to that cold minute hand as it counted away the night, as it counted away her hope.

She had not remained at the door, finally admitting that he might need some time before coming back to finish their fight, because he would have to return. It wasn’t over, it couldn’t be. Not like that. Right?

He had said horrible things, very un-Remus things, and they had hurt, played on her insecurities, something she would never have suspected of Remus. Not in a million years would she have believed that he would insult her so thoroughly or throw her own uncertainties in her face. She didn’t even know how he knew about them; she had always played things of that nature so close to the chest, never revealing her weaknesses to him, or to anyone for that matter. What kind of an Auror would she be if she had? He must have puzzled it out.

She forced away the doubts, the insecurities that had been plaguing her. He had dredged up some painful things, no doubt, things her imagination was running away with, running away to frighteninglydark places, and it took her entire reserve of confidence and self-assurance to keep her grounded.

Damn you, Remus.

It wasn’t so much his awareness that she felt inferior to him; it was the way in which he used that knowledge to hurt her. He wasn’t such a great man, after all. The disappointment was, perhaps, the worst part of any of it.

And yet, she continued to wait. Disappointment or no, the fight was far from over; he was not getting off that easily. The couch became her perch. She settled in, a blanket around her shoulders to stave off the chill that had more to do with her emotions than the winter weather, and she did not move. She fought the fatigue that tugged at her eyelids and the sting of salt that prickled their corners, knowing that he would come back.

So there she sat, fighting sleep, listening to the clock hands count away her life, when he did finally return. He slipped in so quietly that she was unsure at first if he was dream or not, but a quick, unsteady brush of his hand on her arm was proof enough that he was, indeed, real.

“Tonks.” He sat beside her but did not touch her again, just near enough to be close but too far to be intimate.

There’s irony in there somewhere.

“Look,” he finally managed, his voice uncertain, tinted with guilt and too much emotion. “I…it’s…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…that is to say…I haven’t…Merlin, I just got here and this is a disaster already.” He sighed heavily and ran a shaky hand through his hair.

Turning a bit to finally look at him, Tonks could see the ache behind his eyes, the way his hands and arms moved with restless energy, like snakes caged too long; he was a mess. She knew she should encourage him to say whatever he came to say, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Petty as she knew that was, her bitterness wouldn’t allow it.

He sighed again, more deeply than before, keeping his eyes on the floor. “I never meant to imply that you were anything less than perfect. I wasn’t trying to call you inferior, quite the opposite, actually.” At her puzzled look he pressed on rather faster than his usual steady pace. “Truth be told, Tonks, I think you're too good for me.”

It was blurted so uncouthly, and with so little poise, that she could only stare at him, frozen and confused by this strange turn of events.

Apparently unable to stand the awkward silence any longer, he spoke again, this time more quietly, if no less self-disparaging. “You are above me. How’s that for straightforward?”

It seemed to cost him something to tell her this, seemed to hurt his pride, or his dignity, or some such attribute that she suspected he had too little of to be even thinking such a thing. But he was thinking it, in fact he was feeling it, and rather painfully from the look of him. Tonks felt her disappointment begin to ebb away, the feeling of betrayal slowly filtering out of her. He was no less hurt than she and, though she was still angry, she was not so disappointed as she had been. The anger, however, had a firm grip on her heart, and she had to finish this argument and make some kind of sense of it or it would drive her mad.

“That’s ridiculous,” she said, not caring how harsh it sounded.

“No, it’s not,” he countered, this time with more conviction than apology. “I am a burden. I know I came off wrong, I know we misunderstood each other, so I am going to just say it: a relationship with me will bring you nothing but heartache. We will not be accepted.”

“Do you really think I care, Remus? Do I look like a person who gives a flying snitch what people think of me?”

“Purple hair and pig snouts are not comparable to this. It isn't the same.”

She stood then and paced the length of the room, her shoulders stiff with annoyance. “Of course it isn’t. You think I don’t know that?” He attempted to answer her, but she pushed on. “You are not the only one in this room with an affliction, Remus. Do you think that I have not encountered distrust and dislike? I’m a shape shifter, not by choice, not because I wanted to be, but because I was born this way. Do you know the number of people who refuse to talk to me because they don’t think I can be trusted, the number of people I work with who watch me like I’m some kind of monster? So don’t you sit there and tell me that you will bring me hatred and social prejudice.”

“I wasn’t,” he started, but paused before beginning again. “I didn’t mean to discredit your hardships. I – “

“You are a werewolf.” She noted his grimace at her coarse declaration. “So what? I don’t care. You need to accept that. It isn’t a lot to accept, just one tiny detail. I do not care.”

“But others do,” he said, frustration thick in his voice.

“I am not ‘others.’ When I say I don’t care, Remus, it means I don’t care.”

“You will, when you are hated because of me, because of it.”

“Didn’t I just cover this? You’re beating a dead hippogriff.” Tonks flopped back onto the couch, exhausted from the sleepless night and the endless circular arguments. It really was getting to the point of stupidity. How many times was she going to have to…unless…. A sudden thought came barreling into her brain like a steam engine; there was something else, another reason he was reluctant to be with her publicly.

“Oh,” she said as the realization came into full view.

He looked up, uncertain, unsure, but said nothing.

“I see. You are afraid of what people will think of you.”

“No, Tonks. I am afraid of the ramifications to you and your position – “

“Yes,” she cut him off. “Of course you are. That’s who you are, you care, but - you also like to be liked. You are afraid of what they will say when they see a nearly middle-aged, unemployed werewolf holding hands with – or, Merlin forbid, kissing – a young, impressionable girl.”

Remus sighed, his eyes focused somewhere past her middle, but he did not refute her.

“You know,” Tonks added thoughtfully, “I should be angry, I should be thoroughly brassed off that you think so little of me, and I really would be if you didn’t think so bloody little of yourself.”

He did look up then, his face flushed with something like shame, which really made it all that much worse.

“Remus, I am not going to repeat this, because it is so self-evident that it should never have to be said in the first place, so listen close. You are a prat. You are a first-class prat.”

“Well, thank you, I – “

“Don’t interrupt! I'm talking.” She shot him a nasty glare that she only half meant before continuing. “You are a man filled with empathy, and kindness, and virtue, and intelligence, and all things that make up an outstanding human being. If you question yourself, do it because of your actions, not because of your acquaintances or the opinions of others – they are not your conscience.”

Remus did not answer, he did not move or even appear to breath. It seemed that she had finally crossed that invisible line and prodded him too hard, dug too deep into caves he didn’t want to mine. But how else were they supposed to move forward? She couldn’t just let him dig his feet in the dirt and hold steady. If they didn’t dig deeper, both of them, their relationship was doomed, and she wasn’t ready to let it die, not yet, not over this.

Well, I’m past the point of no return, might as well forge onward.

“Look,” she said after some minutes of silence, “I know there are things in that head of yours that I can’t change or convince you of, but if you don’t start telling me what’s going on in there, we'll never survive. I have been pushing and pulling you through every phase of this relationship…wait, no, that’s not true. You were more in this relationship before it started than you are now. The kitchen at number twelve, the Leaky Cauldron, even our first date; we were fun and witty and, well, we were friends. I feel like we’re acquaintances who sometimes share a bed, now. What happened to that, what happened to the laughing and the pranks and the rude comments that always made Sirius laugh?”

Remus looked up, still a little lost, still a little reluctant, but managed a small smile. “I don’t know.”

“I have a pretty good idea.” She slid closer to him, her shoulder pressed against his and she touched his hand, surprised when his grasped it. “It’s still here, we’re still the same people, but you keep me at a distance. I would rather give up the sex life and have my friend back than go on like this.”

“Even if you’re right, even if all of that is true – “

“It is,” she interrupted.

“That is getting really annoying. In case you missed my many glares of annoyance,” he ground out in a far less threatening tone than she knew him to be capable of.

“See,” she smiled, relief washing over her finally, “that was better.”

“How is my being annoyed better?”

“Because you didn’t close off. You told me what you’re feeling. And you’re not really annoyed.”

“Well, bully for me and my emotional progress,” he spat sarcastically, “and, yes, I am.”

“You really ought to be less sarcastic about the whole thing, you know. This is important. And besides, if you were really annoyed that vein by your temple would be throbbing, and it isn’t, so you’re not.”

It wasn’t that she wasn’t welcoming of it, or that she hadn’t seen it coming, because she had, it was the suddenness of the kiss that caught her off guard, nearly toppling her sideways off the sofa. It wasn’t a kiss of apology, nor one of reconciliation. It was a kiss that spoke of understanding. She clutched at him, hands finding the most solid places, his shoulders, his back, his waist; and she held, and felt, and let all of the mixed messages and assumptions and unnecessary emotions fall away. He had not done her some great wrong; he had not revealed himself to be a cad or a jerk, but a man so beaten down by his experiences that he was willing to push away something beautiful in order to “save” it.

Remus, you big dummy.

He pulled away, breath coming fast, pulse unsteady, and looked squarely at her for the first time since his return. “I’m trying.” It wasn’t quite a plea, but it wasn’t far off either; a strange hybrid of desperation and hope that lingered on his words, and he looked more vulnerable than she had ever seen him, than she ever expected to see him.

“I know,” she said. And she did. He wasn’t so low as he thought, she knew, but he did need to realize it for himself, and that was a point she intended to see him reach. He would get there; if she had to force him, screaming and pleading, he would see himself how she saw him.

Okay, so maybe things haven’t changed all that much.

Tonks smiled to herself and leaned into him again, welcoming the warmth of his hands and the softness of his lips.

We’ll be fine. And in that moment, somewhere, inside, she knew it to be true. They would be just fine.



THIS IS SPARTA!!!!!!!!! (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?p=4412819#post4412819)

HELLO! Thanks for all the love on the feedback thread - you guys rock my world! Here is chapter 24, A Changing Season.



As February drew to a close, London was blessed with a few rare but welcome days of sunshine. Though the temperature was not warm and the wind whipped through streets and over buildings, blowing people’s hair about and leaves along lawns and walks, the sun did shine and Tonks could not, would not, pass an opportunity to spend a day in it. Even if it meant she had to be bundled in a wool coat and long underwear.

She was cuddled in the crook of Remus’s arm as they lounged against a large oak tree in a small Muggle park near her home. It was nice like that, with the rough bark against her back and a large, soft fleece blanket pulled over their semi-twined forms, his lips against her skin and the cool breezes ruffling his hair.

It was serene, it was peaceful, it was about time. Tonks had been more than a little surprised by Remus in the weeks following Saint Valentine’s Day; not that she had thought him incapable, but she certainly hadn’t expected him to fall so immediately into such a casual and comfortable manner. He was affectionate and passionate and he allowed her to return the sentiments, even in company though not all company. Remus maintained his opinion that the majority of the Order need not know about their relationship and, though she was eager to be completely public about how much she loved him, she allowed him his sense of security. The people they were close with knew about it anyway, and that was enough for her for now.

So not only had he managed to find comfort outside of anonymity, he had settled back into the easy interaction they had once had: his ribbing and flirting and that dry wit that she so loved were restored to their relationship, and for that she was most grateful. She’d told him she would have sacrificed the intimacy for their friendship and she had meant it. His trust and companionship meant far more to her than the kisses or the caresses.

Not that she was complaining about those at all.

Tonks snuggled closer to the man beside her, grateful for the nice weather on her one day off that week. He smelled of soap and the pears they had shared and his hand felt warm and solid, splayed across her belly. He placed a small kiss below her ear and she sighed.

God, I love him.

Their afternoon, however, was not destined to continue as peacefully as it had begun. A shimmering figure caught Tonks’s eye, drawing her attention away from the man beside her. She peered across the expanse of fig-green lawn and into the small thicket of trees bordering one edge of the park. There it was, the shape of a silvery mongoose, peeking cautiously out from behind a wide tree.

“Look,” she said to Remus, jumping up and starting across the lawn.

“Where? What?” he asked, immediately behind her, his wand already in his hand.

“Rikki,” she said, pointing into the trees to where she had seen Sirius’ Patronus.

“It’s ridiculous that he calls it that,” Remus commented, returning his wand to his pocket and visibly relaxing, if only a little.

“I think it’s cute,” Tonks said, jabbing an elbow softly into his ribs.

“Only because you think it proves he’s read a book,” Remus teased.

They reached the small wooded patch of land and Sirius’s voice immediately rang in their ears as his Patronus stared purposefully at them, looking happy to have found them, if such a thing were possible.

Dumbledore’s here. He needs everyone here immediately.

They shared a curious, grave look before sneaking further into the cool shadows of the trees and Disapparating.

Grimmauld Place was a hub of activity when they arrived. Only Kingsley, Hagrid, McGonagall, and Snape were not present. Tonks spared a brief thought as to why Kingsley would be absent but pushed it away to focus on more pressing matters. Witches and wizards were milling about, whispering in the hall but debating more loudly in the kitchen, where they were away from the danger of waking any portraits.

As soon as everyone had congregated in the kitchen, Dumbledore stood and looked around solemnly, his eyes scanning the room.

“We have an unfortunate dilemma,” Dumbledore began. “It would seem that I am in violation of Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four.”

Hestia looked at him as though she was unsure whether to laugh or scowl; instead she simply asked, “Why?”

To Tonks’s surprise, Dumbledore grinned and said, “It appears that I have been secretly holding meetings of an organization known as Dumbledore’s Army, all this long while.”

Murmurs went up around the group; Remus, Tonks and Sirius groaned; Molly winced; but Dumbledore continued as calmly and mildly entertained as was his usual manner. “Harry and a group of other students” - Molly winced again, her face twisted in humiliation and concern - “have secretly formed a Defense Against the Dark Arts study group in an effort to make up for Umbridge’s lack of instruction. At some juncture they named their group Dumbledore’s Army and Umbridge managed to come into possession of the group’s manifest.” Here he paused and appeared to weigh what to say next. It was only a second before he spoke again. “Harry was immediately called into my office and questioned. It was apparent at once that they were seeking to discredit and expel Harry. The opportunity to deflect the blame away from him presented itself and I seized it. I have been ejected from my post at Hogwarts and am now,” he paused again and smiled very widely before saying, “a wanted man.”

There was immediate pandemonium. Questions were hurled at him from all directions and gasps of outrage and calls for action rose out of the group. Tonks did neither; she sat quietly, observing the others and considering the situation. Beside her, Remus leaned over to talk quietly with Sirius and Arthur, but straightened up when Dumbledore raised a hand for silence.

“From this point forward I will only be contacting you through Fawkes and I am afraid that my presence around headquarters will be even less frequent than it has been of late. I must be on my way; I have a distance to travel yet and am eager to get on with it. Alastor, I leave things to you.”

Mad-Eye nodded at Dumbledore and amid all of the confusion and curiosity, their leader left in a ball of flame.

Hours later, having received a more detailed description of what was expected of them from Mad-Eye, and of what had happened from Kingsley, who arrived about an hour after Dumbledore left, Tonks, Remus, Sirius, Kingsley, Arthur and Molly sat, dazed and tired at the kitchen table, all picking at, but not actually eating, Molly’s trifle.

“I just can’t believe them,” Molly was saying for the hundredth time. “I should send a Howler! How could they write all their names – “

“Molly, dear,” Arthur said, rubbing her back in what appeared to be a soothing manner, “Hermione had to have names or the jinx wouldn’t have worked. And you know you can’t send a Howler.”

“But…that jinx! How could she do something so terrible? That poor Edgecombe girl.”

“She’s a traitor!” Sirius said loudly as he stood abruptly, his chair legs making a horrible screech against the floor. “She betrayed them, Molly. She deserves what was done to her!” He turned to leave and Tonks just caught a muttered, “She deserves worse,” under his breath.

Tonks leaned close to Remus and whispered in his ear, “Should one of us go talk to him?”

He shook his head, turning to meet her eyes. “He needs to brood on this a bit,” he whispered. “It’s too close to home for him. He’ll be okay tomorrow.”

Tonks didn’t know if she agreed, but she trusted Remus’s judgment and his assessment of Sirius, so she stopped short of voicing her skepticism. Instead she tried again to focus on her trifle but found herself thinking of Sirius brooding in his room; of Harry brooding in his dorm; and of Remus, warm and solid at her side, smelling of grass and soap and pears, his hair slightly mussed, his fork silently poking at the sugary concoction on his plate, his thigh pressed against hers and his left hand resting on her knee. What would she do without him?

Catching herself staring at his profile for a second longer than necessary, she turned away and found Molly staring at nothing and looking half-lost and half-terrified.

“We should be off as well,” Arthur said, rising from his seat and carrying both his and Molly’s plates to the sink.

“Don’t worry about the washing up Arthur,” Remus said. “We’ll manage.”

“Right,” Tonks added, more to have something to say than because she gave a flying curse about the washing up. “We’ll wash up first thing in the morning.”

Molly looked up suddenly, her eyes fixed on Tonks, then sliding over to Remus, then back to Tonks again. She was looking at them as though she was seeing them for the first time and Tonks cringed inwardly when Kingsley chuckled quietly from the other end of the table.

“Oh,” was all Molly managed before Arthur was handing over her coat and bidding them a goodnight, but the woman didn’t seem quite ready to go; she swiftly turned back to Tonks, enveloping her in a hug and spilling several tears onto the younger woman’s jumper.

“It’s just…” she trailed off, apparently overcome by the emotions of the day. She graced Remus with an equally wet hug before finally allowing Arthur to take her home.

“Erm,” Tonks said, trying to suppress a laugh, “I think Molly and Arthur know.”

Kingsley laughed, low and heavy, into his napkin. “I think Molly is the last to know. You’re not subtle at all, you know.”

She thought that Remus would take this in his former temperamental and embarrassed way, but to her surprise and relief, he just laughed.

“Seems we are not fit for undercover work, eh, Tonks?”

“Clearly not,” she answered with a grin.

“You two are disgusting,” Kingsley said, mocking distaste and pushing his plate away from him.

Remus waved his wand and sent all the dishes to the sink before standing up and offering Tonks his hand. “Shall we?”

Taking his hand and letting him tug her up to standing, Tonks said, “We wouldn’t want to disgust anyone.”

They left the kitchen, still hand in hand, and the last thing Tonks heard before being so consumed by Remus that she couldn’t concentrate on anything else was Kingsley’s deep, soothing laughter drifting up from the kitchen.



Feedback makes Remus and Tonks cuddle (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=84704&page=41)