Any Auror who has had the utter misfortune to work the graveyard shift has heard the expression “Dark wizards don’t sleep.�

Apparently, Dark wizards don’t celebrate Christmas either.

The glare I gave Kingsley could only have been matched by that of Severus Snape. “You want me to work on Christmas Eve?�

He looked at me apologetically. “We need one more person to cover the night. And-�

“And everyone’s had their vacation booked since October and I’m the newbie,� I finished. I had been an Auror for all of four months, and I was getting used to working the odd shifts no one wanted.

I sighed. “Alright, but I better get paid overtime and get New Years off—and Easter,� I threatened. Kingsley promised he would see what he could do, and I resigned myself to a lonely and boring Christmas.

I wasn’t likely to be missed at the family Christmas gathering anyway. I was known to accidentally throw puddings at great aunts, unintentionally insult bosses of various relatives, and occasionally blow up Mum’s famous Christmas turkey.

I spent several minutes pondering the fact that I wouldn’t have to listen to any of Aunt Mildred’s lectures or Uncle Gary’s boring seminars on macroeconomics (he was a Muggle university professor) before deciding to hell with optimism. If I had to work on December Twenty-Fourth, I was allowed to miserable about it.

If only I could remember why I picked this job…

~*~
The next few days were filled with work, several last minute Christmas shopping trips and hundreds of polite excuses to various relatives who pretended not to be slightly relieved.

Christmas Eve turned out to be wet and snowy. I wouldn’t have minded as much if I hadn’t been standing on the doorstep of a crazy lady with a love for small feline creatures.

“Mrs. Foxworthy, this is a rather serious accusation,� I said as calmly as I could. Serious my arse. “What makes you so sure your neighbour hexed your cat?�

“It was him!� cried the old lady. “I never trusted that Remus Lupin. I know every witch and wizard on this street. We’ve always been a quiet neighbourhood. But that Lupin, he moves in a few months back and now this happens!�

I took several deep breaths. Reduced to solving mysteries about cats. The rest of Magical Law Enforcement must be stuffing themselves with turkey. “Alright, I’ll look into it. Mr. Lupin lives on the right?�

Mrs. Foxworthy nodded. “He’s an odd one, Lupin is. Best be careful, Ms. Tonks.�

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “I will. Good evening, Madam, and Merry Christmas.�

I carefully manoeuvred my way through the snow. With my natural inspiring grace, I had slipped three times in the last hour alone. Luckily, snow had made for a soft landing.

Mr. Lupin’s house was in desperate need of some paint, the gate at a glance seemed as though one strong gust of wind would send it flying, and one of the windows looked as if it had been broken and repaired many times. However, someone had gone through great pains to clear the driveway and sidewalk, for which I was grateful.

My knock was answered by man who I suspected was quite a bit younger than the grey in his hair suggested. His jumper looked as if it been through the wash one too many times and his gaze was friendly.

“Mr. Lupin? I’m Auror Tonks,� I said, flashing my badge. “Mr. Lupin, I have an enquiry about your neighbour’s cat.�

His smile was polite, but eyes seemed amused. “Please, come in.�

His living room was clean, but cluttered. Shelves of books, both magical and Muggle, lined the walls; indeed, the entire room had the same musky scent that one might encounter at Flourish and Blotts. There was also the oddest collection of objects I had ever seen—a Grow Your Own Warts kit sat proudly next to a Sneakoscope. Several Zonko’s items rested on top of a set of Defence Against the Dark Arts books. The room was almost like a giant game of ‘What Doesn’t Belong?’ except I couldn’t figure out which items were out of place.

“So, what has Mrs. Foxworthy been saying about me and her cat?� Lupin asked as he walked into the living room carrying a heavy tray.

I cleared my throat. “I am here to inquire as to whether you may have hexed a grey cat known as Smoky Puff,� I said in the most official voice I could muster.

Lupin nearly choked on his tea. His mouth twisted into a smile that made me think he was desperately trying to keep the amusement off his face. His shoulders shook with the effort.

“Laugh,� I defended in mock dignity, “but I spent the last half hour listening about Mr. Fluffers, Ginger, Maude, Buckwheat, and poor old Smoky Puff.�

“May I ask what happened to poor old Smoky Puff?� he managed to ask in a straight tone.

I grinned. “Apparently, Smokey once had hair."

Lupin laughed. He had a nice laugh, warm and captivating. It made him look ten years younger. I surveyed him once more. He was polite, but the mischievous look in his eye almost convinced me he did it. I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to be innocent because I’d rather not turn him in or guilty because I liked the playful rogue behind the gracious gentleman.

“Anyways, I’m supposed to ask you if you hexed the cat, and if you deny it, I’m supposed to inform you that we actually have a law, as idiotic as I think it is, that charges a fine of five hundred galleons per hex if you curse some one else’s cat. Not that I would blame you if had hexed the damn cat. What a bloody waste of Auror time,� I muttered.

He smiled. “It seems we share the same opinion about Mrs. Foxworthy and her cats, Auror Tonks.�

“Just Tonks, please,� I interrupted. At his questioning glance, I said dryly, “My first name’s Nymphadora. My mother and Mrs. Foxworthy buy their name books from the same store.�

He laughed again. “As much as I agree with you, Tonks, I’m afraid I have no idea who hexed the cat.�

I cleared my throat. “I’m afraid, Mr. Lupin - and this has absolutely nothing to do with the stuffed dog on the mantelpiece - I don’t believe you. Where were you the night of December Twenty-Third?�

“The dog belongs to a friend,� he protested. “As for where I was last night…�

He looked at me again, an intelligent look in his brown eyes. For a moment, I felt like I did when McGonagall was trying to determine whether or not I was lying; as if his eyes were searching my soul. He must have found what he was looking for, because he nodded and said, “Why don’t I show you?�

“Show?�

“Yes, I’ll show you where I was last night.�

It was a rather unusual request. But as I couldn’t see how he would have had time to set up a trap of any sort and there was only one of him, I agreed.

He propelled me out the door even though I could taste snowflakes on my tongue. The streets of Hogsmeade were understandably empty, and as we walked out of the village, all we could hear was the crunch of snow under our feet and our own voices.

Lupin led me towards the forest. I hesitated briefly, but followed, gripping my wand more tightly. I was overwhelmed the scent of pine. He walked through the sea of snow burdened trees, obviously knowing his way quite well. Lupin motioned me to be quiet as an owl hooted overhead. Lupin, I realised, was a master of Stealth and Tracking. Even in the snow he hardly made a sound; he was like a silent ghost. I, on the other hand, half-tripped over everything, creating light thudding sounds with each footstep. Finally, we stopped before a clearing. Lupin knelt behind a thick bush. “Look,� he whispered. I gazed into the clearing and gasped.

Hundreds of multicoloured lights filled the clearing. It was breathtaking. I looked closer and realised each light was actually a small winged creature. Each of the creatures buzzed with a pleasant hum. They glowed like fireflies, but with a wider variety of colour. Reds, yellows and oranges mixed with purples, pinks, blues and greens.

“Woodland Fairies,� said Lupin quietly. “They come out only at night. Every year between the winter solstice and New Year’s Eve they gather here. No one knows why.�

I watched as each light circled around the field. The fairies danced a show of colour that reminded a bit of the time my Muggle Gran took me to see fireworks. No two colours were exactly the same, and as the fairies interacted, they created unique blends that didn’t seem to have a name. The effect was utterly entrancing.

“It’s beautiful,� I murmured.

“Yes,� Lupin agreed. “My father used to bring me as a child. We would watch them for hours.�

It was people like Remus Lupin that made this job worth it, I realised. I had known the man all of forty five minutes and he had already turned a bad day brighter. People like him made catching Dark Wizards and keeping our world as safe as possible the most worthwhile cause of all.

I wasn’t sure how long we stood there, just watching the fairies. I felt calmer than I had in a long while. Eventually, I gained a sense of time and remembered I was still working.

“All right, Mr. Lupin,� I said in a serious, professional tone. “About a thousand eyewitnesses have seen you at the time of the accident. I believe you’re in the clear.� More quietly I continued, “Thank you. I needed that.�

Lupin smiled. “It was no trouble.�

“I should be getting back to work,� I said regretfully, thinking of the large stack of paperwork on my desk.

We started to walk back the way we had come. Lupin (or Remus, as he insisted I called him), began a conversation about my work as an Auror. This led to a long, complicated discussion about Defence Against the Dark Arts, a subject Remus seemed well educated in. I found the conversation more enlightening (and far more entertaining) than any defence class I had ever taken.

An awkward pause descended as we reached Remus’ rather worn out garden gate. “I better be going,� I said at last. I started to walk away from the house.

“Tonks!�

Hope rose in my chest as I turned around. Remus hesitated. “Nymphadora, would you - would you perhaps like to have breakfast? Once your shift is done?� Remus asked quickly.

“I would like that a lot, actually.� Much more than I should. “But if you call me Nymphadora again, you may find yourself bearing a strong resemblance to Smoky Puff,� I warned.

“I shall practice shield charms at once,� he teased. “Merry Christmas, Tonks.�

“Merry Christmas!�

I walked down to the end of the street, whistling ‘God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs’ under my breath. As I Apparated back to the Ministry, I vaguely wondered if Dark wizards celebrated Valentine’s Day.