None of it made sense. He should have stayed, but he could not miss another meeting. He took a sacred oath as an Auror, but he wondered why he stood alongside such fabricated principles. When he first joined forces with the Ministry in the First War, Kingsley found satisfaction simply working behind a desk, but everything changed once his superior introduced him to the logistics of advanced practical defence. His eagerness never would have pushed him to join a secret society, yet everything shifted over the last fifteen years. Responsibilities demanded more attention these days, and he hardly paused to doubt his initial instincts.

Kingsley sat next to a man with dark shoulder-length hair. He certainly looked familiar, seeing that he stared at him all day in his small cubicle. This double act presented a complex: Sirius was both the chased fugitive and light-hearted comrade. If an Order member asked him just three months ago, Kingsley would have never hesitated in admitting his goal: he wanted Sirius Black locked in a small dark room experiencing slight tortures under interrogation. He reflected on this goal as he looked up at the grinning man who sat in a chair propped on its back legs. His face was no longer sunken as the Prophet photographs portrayed, for his relaxed expression showed no signs of the horrors of Azkaban.

Kingsley accepted a glass of wine and looked around the basement kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Copper pots, old ladles and serving spoons hung on a hooked fixture on the wall. As usual, Molly Weasley busied herself with supper preparations. Sitting at the end of the table, Remus Lupin and Bill Weasley sent organized parchment rolls, chipped quills and alcoholic beverages soaring onto the tabletop. Bill discussed his day at the bank, yet Remus seemed less interested. He nodded during pauses, but he kept glancing at the door. He drummed his fingers on a fresh edition of the Evening Prophet . Kingsley checked his watch. Fifteen minutes had passed without an owl. A meeting never started late.

Nymphadora Tonks walked in dressed in her usual black robes. She greeted the room at large, for a small child occupied her attention. After tripping over a non-existent step, she lifted the little girl in her arms. The toddler’s strawberry blonde curls were nothing compared to the shock of pink hair. Kingsley looked at her curiously, but he shared his confusion with the majority. Molly stopped cooking and glanced at Bill, but he knew nothing. Kingsley watched the little girl. Her hazel eyes looked glossed, almost as if they had a transparent glaze.

“Before you come off with some wisecrack, Sirius, she’s not mine.” Tonks squeezed the girl’s hand and offered her an apple. “I think you’re dad says these are okay. I hope so.”

“Which begs the question...” said Sirius after he cleared his throat.

“You’re that bored today?” Tonks walked around the room and grabbed a bottle of Butterbeer. She shifted the child to her side. “Where is he, Kingsley?”

“I thought he left with you,” muttered Kingsley as he peered through the doorway. “Don’t tell me he stood us up again.”

“Mad-Eye’s going to kill him,” said Tonks. She smiled at the little girl. “Daddy’s in trouble.”

“Daddy?” Sirius laughed. He started on a second bottle. “You do have an interesting life. Does Andromeda know? Do tell.”

“Does Andromeda know?” Tonks copied his rough voice and rolled her eyes. “She wishes.”

“Palmer’s kid?” Kingsley brushed the little girl’s cheek. “She’s cute.”

“Yeah,” said Tonks as she brushed hair from the little girl’s eyes. “She’s usually not this shy. She never shuts up. Say hello, Sophie.”

The little girl waved and laid her head on the young woman’s shoulder.

“May I have a piece?” Sophie lifted her head.

“Piece of what, Sophie?” asked Tonks. She sat by Kingsley and grinned at Sirius. “Think general audience tonight. She’s got ears like a bat.”

“Of course. You heard that? You’re good,” said Sirius. He reached in his pocket and handed the little girl a chocolate bar. “Don’t I show such respect? I’m a gentleman, remember? Seriously, where’d you get the kid?”

“Dumbledore sent me a message after work. He said they’re running a bit late.” Tonks ran her and through Sophie’s hair and pulled out small branches and leaves. “How did you get this dirty in the park? Your mum’s going to fret over these scratches.”

“Paranoid parents?” Sirius winked at the little girl. “That’s no fun.”

Silence fell the moment Dumbledore strolled into the kitchen. His silver beard and hair gleamed in the candlelight. His midnight blue robes swept across the stone floor. He wore a calm expression, but Kingsley thought he realized a gleam in his eyes. Perhaps it was a trick of the light. He gazed at them all over his half-moon spectacles. His eyes rested for a moment on Tonks, but his eyes never lingered. He walked over into the light and cast aside his long black cloak.

Kingsley got lost in a pair of blank grey eyes. In the soft shimmering candlelight, the woman looked even more beautiful. Long dark hair fell down her back in ripples. Dark circles under her eyes and heavy breathing hinted at her fatigue. She hid all emotion, but Kingsley doubted she shivered because of the cold draft. A decorative shawl draped over a simple black dress. She shifted her weight nervously and Kingsley noticed her gait. Her bloodless fingers rested protectively on her stomach. A reflection of the firelight, a small gold ring glittered on her hand.

“Good evening. I’m sorry I’ve made you all wait for me tonight,” said Dumbledore. He smiled at the young woman as she grabbed his hand. He glanced across the table. “Remus, I wonder if I might borrow that paper for the duration of our meeting?”

Remus passed the newspaper down the table.

“Thank you. Ah, yes, so they picked up on it.” Dumbledore flipped through the Evening Prophet and sighed as he scanned an inside story. His brow furrowed and he cleared his throat. “I’ll leave that lecture to Rufus Scrimgeour. He needs to get something off his chest.”

“What, Professor?” Tonks looked wary.

Mad-Eye limped into the kitchen and leaned against the wall. Molly offered him a chair, but he shook his head. He covered his face, for the scars on his face mirrored an unusual pale colour. Blood covered his hands and he pocketed his wand.

“Mad-Eye?” asked Tonks in a shocked voice. She glanced at the young woman. “What’s going on?”

“Just tell her,” growled the ex-Auror. “She’ll find out anyway.”

“Around nine-thirty this evening, there was an attack at a small establishment on the outskirts of London,” Dumbledore announced with a sad smile. He waited for signs of recognition. “I regret to inform you all that an Auror was murdered in cold blood tonight.”

“No.”

“Tonks,” said Sirius. He lifted the sleeping child from her arms. He watched her pace around the kitchen.

“Where is he? Where is he, Mad-Eye?” Tonks walked into the corridor and returned a few moments later. Her face paled with an ashen white. “He said nine o’clock.”

“Nymphadora.” Mad-Eye held her back and put a hand on her shoulder.

“No, he said nine. He’s running late. You give him time.”
“Doing what?” asked Kingsley quietly. He stared at the little girl in Sirius’s arms.

“I dunno. He ... ” Tonks never bothered to create an excuse. She shook her head and stared at Dumbledore. “Just wait. Hold the meeting. He’s coming. He promised me. He’s coming.”

“Aidan Nikolas Palmer, 24, of Hayden Village, dedicated Auror passed away this evening near of home,” Dumbledore read from a small article. He tossed the newspaper on the table. “Now, they’re claiming a coronary as a natural cause of death. Aidan enjoyed his evening running sessions.”

“Yes.” Tonks nodded involuntarily. She wanted to believe it. Kingsley took in a sharp breath.

“What they’re not telling you is he was cornered by werewolves,” growled Mad-Eye in disgust. “He went for his run, yes, but he never went home. They mauled him and left him for dead. Course, Greyback wanted to cover his tracks, so he set the corpse aflame.”

“No.”

“Listen to sense.”

“I am, am !” Tonks ran her fingers through her hair. “He said nine o’clock. Nine o’clock. That’s not him.”

“Alastair,” Dumbledore warned his friend lightly.

“He’s coming.” Tonks shook her head. “He went for a walk with Kate. He runs until he gets tired. He always does. Check again. The Prophet’s wrong. Don’t jump to conclusions.”

“You just said it,” Kingsley sighed.

“Said what? It doesn’t mean anything,” Tonks challenged him. She glared at the old Auror. “You’re just angry he hasn’t showed up yet. He’s coming.”

“Nymphadora,” hissed Mad-Eye. He held her chin in his hand. He forced her to look at the young woman draped in the shawl. “Palmer’s predictable as a pocket watch, eh? Why isn’t he in bed with his wife? You know his protective nature. Why isn’t he here with her and his little girl? Who’s blood is on my hands? He’s your best friend. You tell me.”

“Kate.”

Tonks stared at the young woman as if she had just materialized in the kitchen. The woman refused to look away from the wall.

“Madam Palmer,” said Kingsley, for he immediately adopted a distant tone. He felt an immense pain rise in his chest, but he forced the words through his lips. “Your husband ... if there is anything ... anything at all ...”

The woman shook her head.

“Kate,” said Tonks as she squeezed her hand. She took the little girl from Sirius. “I’m taking Sophie with me tonight, all right? I just want to watch over her and make sure she’s safe.”

A silence answered her. Tonks picked a backpack off of the floor and walked out into the corridor. Kingsley followed her, but he was not the only one. Dumbledore swept past him. Mad-Eye limped close behind him.

“She hasn’t said a word, Nymphadora,” said Dumbledore in a light tone. He waited until she spun around to face him. “Alastair found her at the scene, and she looked as though she was scared to death. I know Katelyn Palmer. I have known her family for years, and I’ve never seen her so terrified. Of course, all of this is understandable given her circumstances, but we can only imagine what she witnessed.”

“She saw it?” Kingsley asked.

“And Sophie?” Tonks whispered. She covered her mouth.

“Yes.”

“I don’t know anything, Professor,” said Tonks sincerely. “I’m really not sure of anything.”

“Walking away from it doesn’t solve a damn thing either,” Mad-Eye pointed out. “I don’t want you alone. Whoever did this’ll go after Palmer’s closest partners. It’s what I’d do.”

“Protect his wife,” Tonks suggested. “I can take care of myself.”

“Did that sound like a suggestion?” Mad-Eye regained his fierce demeanour. “Those bastards minced meat out of one of the best damn Aurors in the department. You think Palmer was weak? He’s young, yeah, but I guarantee you he knew his stuff. If you think for one second I’m going to let you ... I’m ordering you ...”

“Come on.”

Kingsley steered her by the shoulders and led her outside. With the sudden announcement, tempers ran high with everyone. Voldemort might not have acted, but these crafted moves certainly made a statement. Although Ministry officials kept even the smallest incidents hushed, people responded more to unknown fears. Doubt bred with fear and confusion, but the Ministry turned a deaf ear to one of their fallen officers. Kingsley kept a level head and spun on his heel. He disappeared into the darkness.