Tonks wasn’t sure how she got through the rest of that weekend. Rob made a hasty exit, and after she triple checked the charm-locks on her door, she huddled up in her armchair with a blanket. She shuddered when she looked at the sofa wondering if she’d ever be able relax on it without thinking of him groping her. On the rug, where he’d thrown it, lay Martha’s shirt. Tonks picked it up and pressed it to her cheek. It had been such a good match and talking to Martha afterwards had renewed her belief in Sirius’ innocence. In her wallet was the picture Remus had given her. Now slightly tatty around the edges, Tonks smoothed it out so she could study the faces even more. Martha had been right; Sirius and she had certainly been a tactile couple. Tonks smiled ruefully; they looked happy together and comfortable being that close. She knew Charlie had wanted so much more from their brief relationship but she’d never felt that way about him. She’d enjoyed kissing him, but always drew back when he’d tried to go further.
Rob’s words came back to her “ not interested in men. She furrowed her brow as she considered his bitter statement. Was he right? She studied the photograph again, watching as Sirius’ arm crept around Martha’s waist. She remembered clutching hold of him on the back of his motorbike and laughing with delight as he’d twirled her in the air. If she closed her eyes, she would swear she could smell him. At six years old she’d met her cousin and fallen in love with a god “ no wonder Charlie couldn’t compete.
She glanced once more at the photograph. Remus was smiling in a self-deprecating way. What had they been talking about? she wondered. Then, he looked at her and, even though she knew this photo had been taken over ten years before, it was as though he was staring straight at her. Her mind flew back to that kiss she had shared with him when she was seventeen. She’d responded immediately, not hesitating for a moment. Because it felt right, she thought.
“Damn it, Mum!” she muttered. “I must be more like you than I thought.” She looked up at the clock; it was nearly midnight which meant she’d been sitting here for nearly six hours ruminating on Rob, Martha, Sirius and Remus. “Get a grip, Tonks” she told herself firmly, “and get to bed. Rob Avery is not worth a sleepless night.”
Despite the lecture she did not sleep well, although it was not Rob who disturbed her dreams but Sirius. She had dreamt about him since Romania, but less frequently and not with the same intensity. By mastering her Patronus, she seemed to have banished her Dementor dream as well, so when Sirius had entered her mind, it had been as a hazy figure pushing her higher and higher on a swing.
But this was different. This was not the mad-man hauled away by Aurors, or the skull like figure being tormented by Dementors. This was the laughing boy of the photograph, his arm around Martha. And then it changed; he was still laughing but cruelly. Sirius was standing over the bodies of James and Lily, his wand pointed at a small boy in a cradle. He was about to strike when...
“Nooo!” Tonks woke up crying convulsively. Her heaving breaths tore at her insides. Sweat dripped off her, but she was shivering with cold. “It’s a dream, it’s a dream,” she whispered to herself. Wearily, she levered herself out of bed. In the corner of the room, there was a chest of draws. She pulled the bottom drawer out and began to rummage around the tangled mass of clothes. Finally, she found it “ Sirius’ old Gryffindor T-shirt. Holding it up to her face, she inhaled deeply. It was ridiculous to think that she could still smell him; her mother had, after all, washed this shirt many times, but Tonks felt a tangible connection to her cousin. Taking off her pyjama top, she slipped the shirt over her head and looked up to her skylight window. The moon peeped out from behind a cloud. It was not full, she noticed, but just waning. Remus was free for another month. Sighing, Tonks curled up back in bed, closed her eyes, and drifted back to sleep.
It was shortly after six when Tonks woke up again. The sun was not quite up, but she knew, despite her exhaustion that she would not get back to sleep. Tonks padded across her hallway to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. The plates in the sink were still piled high because she’d had no energy or inclination to clear them after Rob had left last night, but now she filled the sink with scorching hot water and began to scrub. It was only when she heard the kettle whistle that she realised she’d been scouring the same plate over and over. Suddenly, something snapped in her; she took the plate and threw it violently against the wall. She picked up another; then a mug joined the smashed fragments. A sliver of china rebounded off the wall and hit her cheek.
“Bloody, bloody, HELL!” Tonks screeched as she clamped a wet cloth to her face to stench the flow of blood. There was a knocking sound on the floor as her neighbour below banged his ceiling with a broom handle to complain about the noise. She sank to the floor in exasperation. Normally she’d have stamped on her floor in response, but her cheek stung and the last thing she wanted was a confrontation with the mad wizard. She got up and moved the still-whistling kettle from the hob, and then, reaching for her wand, Tonks pointed it at the broken fragments. “Reparo!” she muttered half-heartedly and smiled sardonically when the china shards failed to mend properly. Oh, what’s the point? Just buy some new ones, you silly girl. She laughed. For a moment she was reminded strongly of her Nan, who’d never let a man drag her down for long, always emerging with a smile on her face.
“Men, Dora,” Shirley would say. “Can’t live with ‘em; can’t hit ‘em over the head with a shovel and bury ‘em under the patio.”
Tonks giggled. It would soon be Christmas, and she was really looking forward to seeing her Nan again.
In trepidation, Tonks went into the office on Monday, unsure what story Rob would have spread around the office. She’d toyed with the idea of sending an owl to say she was ill, but that would only have delayed the inevitable. She knew she was in for a rough ride from the young wizards in the office, and no doubt, when the incident reached Mad-Eye’s ears, he’d sigh in annoyance at her lack of vigilance. Tonks loitered in the atrium for a while, then decided she’d had enough of looking at the Fountain of Brethren so walked purposefully to the office.
It was busy. All the Aurors appeared to have Apparated to the department that morning and Tonks could see the lime-green bowler hat belonging to the Minister perched atop a hat stand outside Rufus Scrimgeour’s office. She looked around for Mad-Eye but he didn’t appear to be there “ and neither was Rob. She sighed gratefully at her reprieve. A wizard dressed in smart Auror robes was sitting at her desk.
“Can I help you?” she asked sharply. He turned round and she found herself looking into a very dark, knowing pair of eyes. She faltered slightly but continued, “That’s my desk.”
“You must be Nymphadora Tonks,” said the man. He stood up and held out his hand. “I’m Kingsley Shacklebolt. It is a pleasure to meet you.” He had a deep, rich voice and smiled as he spoke. Tonks couldn’t help smiling back.
“Oh,” she replied. “I’ve heard of you. Aren’t you based somewhere abroad?”
He smiled again. “I’ve been based in many different wizarding communities around the world but thought now was the time to come back home. It seems I picked an interesting day to return.”
“Yeah, what’s going on?” Tonks asked. “It’s not usually this frenzied on a Monday.”
“Haven’t you heard?” Kingsley asked. He lowered his voice. “There’s a problem at Hogwarts. A student has been Petrified.”
“Another one!” Tonks yelped and then, aware of everyone looking at her, she lowered her voice. “I’d heard about Filch’s cat but assumed it was a prank. I mean, everyone hates Mrs Norris. And then there were rumours about that Muggleborn boy, Colin something, but Fudge told us it was an accident ...”
“But another student cannot be an accident,” replied Kingsley. He lowered his head towards her ear. “And this time a ghost was also affected.”
“A ghost! Which one? Not the Fat Friar?” Tonks asked in horror, remembering the jovial Hufflepuff ghost who always made the first years so welcome. Many times he’d caught her sneaking back into the dorms after curfew but he hadn’t reported her.
Kingsley shook his head. “No, it was the Gryffindor Ghost, Nearly Headless Nick, but the student was from Hufflepuff.”
“Who?” Tonks asked urgently as she scanned her memory for students she knew that were still at Hogwarts.
“Another Muggleborn called Justin Finch-Fletchley,” replied Kingsley. “Why, did you know him?”
Tonks shook her head, feeling ashamed of the relief that had swept through her. It was still a student who had been Petrified after all. “Do they have any idea what happened?”
“No. That’s why Fudge is in with Scrimgeour now. They’re planning a meeting with Professor Dumbledore and some of the Governors of the school.”
Tonks heard a door open behind her and saw Mad-Eye come out with the Minister. “No, Alastor, I really don’t think it wise for you to attend the meeting,” Fudge said, an edge of annoyance in his voice. “After the unfortunate incident at Malfoy Manor, I sincerely doubt Lucius Malfoy will welcome you into his house.”
Moody grunted something that Tonks couldn’t catch and stomped towards her desk, leaving the Minister to walk unescorted to the door. Fudge’s eyes flickered in her direction, but if he recognised her from the Quidditch game two days before, he showed no sign.
“Kingsley,” muttered Moody, “it’s good to have you back, lad.”
Tonks smothered a grin for Kingsley was at least her mother’s age and hardly a lad.
“What are you smirking at, Nymphadora?” Moody’s voice questioned her harshly. Hastily, she rearranged her features so that she looked interested rather than amused. It was unlike Moody to be this grumpy, even if he had just been banned from a meeting by the Minister.
“Nothing,” she replied. “Is everything all right, Mad-Eye?”
“Everything’s bloody wonderful, Nymphadora. But it would be a damn sight better if Trainee Aurors learned to conduct their love lives outside office hours,” Moody growled.
Tonks looked astounded and then gasped in shock as Kingsley stood back from her desk. On top of her stack of papers and remnants of Friday’s sandwich that she’s failed to throw away, lay a package and a letter. Glancing at the writing she realised that they’d been sent by different people. A second look told her that the letter had been sent by Rob. She stuffed it into her pocket, intending to open it later, but as Moody glared at her again and led Kingsley away, she decided to get it over with before it burnt a hole in her robes.
Tonks, she read.
I’ve been recalled to the newspaper offices. It seems this story at Hogwarts is about to become front page news, and although I won’t be covering it, they need me to handle all the lesser news stories. I’m not sure when I’ll see you again, but then I’m not sure you’ll want to see me anymore.
I’m sorry about my appalling behaviour after the Quidditch match. I can only blame the Firewhisky and the fact that you’re too bloody attractive for your own good at times. I’d ask for another chance, but I always got the feeling that I wasn’t exactly your cup of tea anyway.
Take care and once again I’m sorry.
Rob
Tonks re-read the letter. She couldn’t deny the sense of relief that was flooding through her. The thought that he was actually sorry and that he knew he’d behaved badly lifted a weight off her mind. But for him to blame Firewhisky and her attractiveness “ she snorted “ typically he wasn’t laying any of the fault at his own door. She withdrew her wand and prepared to set the letter alight, but fearing it would only catch Proudfoot’s attention, who must have known about the date and the letter, she tore it up surreptitiously and turned her attention to the package.
The writing was unfamiliar, but it was unmistakeably female. Intrigued she slit the end open and pulled out several sheets of paper and a photograph. It was Sirius, by himself, looking moodily at the camera. He was perfectly still and Tonks realised it was a Muggle photograph. There was something brooding about him, not like the laughing man she remembered. She glanced at the accompanying letter.
Dear Tonks,
I thought you might like this photograph I found at home. I remember the day this was taken. Sirius had bought himself a Muggle camera and was posing whilst I took some shots. This was him practising his ‘serious Order Member’ pose. We collapsed into heaps of laughter shortly afterwards. I also enclose some of the letters he wrote to me when I was still at Hogwarts and then later in France. I think I told you on Saturday that our relationship ended after a year “ well, that wasn’t quite true. We would occasionally meet up and talk over old times. He had a great capacity to make me laugh in those dark days.
I hope you enjoyed the match on Saturday, and I am sorry if I spoke out of turn about your boyfriend. I had enough people giving me advice when I was going out with Sirius to know that it’s usually unwarranted and unnecessary.
I must stop writing now as I have a training session and want to get this sent off to you, but I’ll be in London next week for a Harpies book signing. If you would like to meet me for dinner then please do.
Regards,
Martha Macdonald
Tonks rummaged through the papers Martha had enclosed. Sirius’ handwriting shone through and she could see him writing about her. She’s bloody marvellous, Martha, he’d written in one. Such spirit and determination ... zoomed across London on the bike and I could feel her heart pounding with exhilaration ... She’s a thrill seeker like her cousin ... Another Black bound for Gryffindor, I’m sure of that.
“Sirius,” she whispered to herself as she looked down at the photograph again. Although he was motionless, there was a spark in his eyes; a sense of life about him that she could not bear to think was rotting away in Azkaban. She touched his face. “I’m sorry I wasn’t a Gryffindor for you.”
She could feel a lump in her throat, so she placed the photograph and the letters back in the envelope. Then she wrote a reply to Martha, accepting her invitation for dinner.
The Wand and Cauldron was a small restaurant near Diagon Alley. Tonks arrived there at eight o’clock, nearly two weeks later, to meet Martha. She entered the place and immediately walked into a robe-stand because she was looking all around her.
“Shit,” she muttered as it toppled over and a robe in a particularly virulent shade of orange fell on top of her.
“Need a hand?” Martha called from the bar area. Tonks threw off the cloak, picked up the robe-stand and then, giving it a wide berth, sat down on a bar stool next to Martha.
“Sorry about that,” she said, sighing. “I’d like to say I’m not always that clumsy, but actually I am.”
“Yet you were a Chaser?” questioned Martha.
“Mmm, for some reason I’m quite graceful in the air,” Tonks replied. “It’s only when my feet are on solid earth that I become a klutz.”
A waiter walked across to show them to their table. They sat down together and began to study the menu. “Do you want some wine?” asked Martha as she looked at the list. “I might have a glass, but I’m in training and really shouldn’t over-indulge, but feel free to order a bottle.”
“Err, I don’t really drink much, either,” Tonks replied, “but one glass would be nice.”
“Merlin, you’re nothing like Sirius then!” Martha exclaimed. The waiter walked over and Martha ordered two glasses of wine. “I thought the Auror department was full of hardened drinkers.”
“Mmm,” replied Tonks, “that’s the problem. Not only am I the only witch, but I’m the only one who doesn’t go for a regular drink with the boys.” She paused as the waiter returned with their drinks. “I don’t mind the odd glass of wine, though.” She smiled to herself as she remembered drinking by the lakeside in Romania with Charlie, and then a glass with dinner in Remus’ room.
“I know what that’s like,” Martha replied, sighing, “being the odd-one out, I mean. When I first joined the Calais Cygnes, I was fresh out of Hogwarts. I was supposed to be a reserve but then their Seeker had to pull out “ for various personal reasons “ and I was drafted in. I was the only non-French player on the team and the crowd were not pleased that I’d taken over from their darling!”
Tonks looked at Martha with interest. “You stayed there for a long time, so how did you get them to accept you?”
Martha laughed. “Well, for one thing, I caught the Snitch so we won the game, but I think what really swayed the crowd was when my shirt got ripped off and I’d chosen that day not to wear a bra.” She smirked. “After that I was surprisingly popular!”
Tonks gasped and then began to giggle. “Well, I’m not sure that would work in the Auror Department, although Mad-Eye’s face would be interesting.”
Martha took another sip of her drink. “The next day, I got home to find a present from Sirius “ it was a red satin bra. Apparently, I’d made page three of the Prophet.”
Tonks began to laugh again but stopped when she noticed that Martha was gazing blankly at her glass. To Tonks’ horror, a single tear trickled down Martha’s cheek.
“Merlin, I’m sorry!” whispered Martha as she wiped away the tear. “I still miss him. I know we’d split up, but we’d kept in touch and occasionally had the odd ... reunion ... should I say.”
“When did you last see him?” asked Tonks gently. She reached over and grasped the older woman’s hand.
“The summer before James and Lily died,” Martha replied. “Sirius came to visit and stayed a while. He’d changed though and was much more serious, more mature if you like. At the time I thought it was because of the Order. The Death Eaters were closing in and they never knew if they’d see the next dawn. Merlin, I cried when the Prewetts died. Then, after Sirius was sent to Azkaban, I realised he was probably more worried about being discovered as a traitor.”
Tonks removed her hand and took a slug of wine.
“That’s not what you want to hear, though, is it, Tonks?” Martha continued. “You want me to tell you that I never believed him capable of such a dreadful act, that I’ll fight with you to prove his innocence.”
Tonks leant back in her chair. “I know everyone thinks I’m stupid. I know the proof against Sirius is incontrovertible, but I can’t reconcile the cousin that twirled me around in the air, and was so excited that Lily was having a baby, with the cold-blooded murderer now incarcerated.”
There was a long pause as both gazed into the distance. “I’m sorry,” murmured Martha at last. “I had trouble believing it too. When Sirius was sent to prison, I was sure there was a mistake. But Peter was dead and there were too many witnesses to Sirius’ attack.” She shook her head. “Come on, let’s order some food.”
Tonks shrugged her shoulders but went back to studying the menu. After a while, the atmosphere lightened as Martha regaled her with tales from the French Quidditch League, and Tonks began to tell her about the Auror Department. A waiter brought their starters to the table and both began to eat.
“I am sorry for what I said about Rob Avery,” said Martha at last. “It wasn’t my place to lecture you about your love life.”
Tonks swallowed her food and shook her head. “That’s okay. You were, as it happened, quite right about him. I wasn’t that interested “ much to his annoyance.”
“What’s that?” Martha asked sharply. “Did something happen?”
Tonks failed to stop the blush spreading across her face. “He... err ... went a bit far, that’s all and I ... err ... had to threaten to hex him.”
Martha giggled. “Really? Oh. I’d have liked to see that ...” She stopped as she saw Tonks’ face. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive. It shook you up, didn’t it?”
Tonks nodded. “A bit. He yelled afterwards and said the rumours about me must be true.” She paused. “Because I don’t appear to have a boyfriend, the other Aurors are convinced I’m more interested in witches.”
“Oh,” said Martha, “and are you?” She smiled at the embarrassed expression on Tonks’ face. “There are quite a few gay Quidditch players, you know. Witches and wizards “ you’d be surprised.”
“I don’t think I’m gay,” Tonks said hurriedly. “I-I just didn’t feel anything for Rob Avery, that’s all. I mean I’ve kissed someone “ a man “ before and it felt good, you know. But with Rob, it just felt... wrong.”
“This man,” Martha said slyly, “was it Remus?”
Tonks giggled and then sighed. “Yeah, it was, actually. Lot of good it did me, though. We met up again in Romania, purely by chance, and he ran a mile.”
“Ah, that sounds like the Remus Lupin I remember from school. He broods a lot and tries to be noble all the time, but I meant what I said at the match. He couldn’t stop talking about you in France.” She stared at Tonks. “How much do you know about him?”
“What do you mean?” Tonks asked, unsure if Martha meant what she thought she did. The waiter returned to remove their plates and bring them their main course. Neither Martha nor Tonks spoke whilst he set the plates and brought fresh cutlery for them.
“Remus has a ‘problem’,” replied Martha once the waiter had left. “I found out in my fifth year, shortly after I started going out with Sirius, and it caused a lot of trouble at the time as it still would today. However, I can’t imagine him kissing you under any circumstances unless you knew the truth ...” She paused as she considered her next words.
Tonks looked around at the other diners. A few looked across, curiously, perhaps recognising Martha who had made the front pages after her successful catch two weeks before. “Don’t say anything. Not here at least,” she begged Martha. “I-I think I know what you’re going to say; Remus told me ... certain things about his scars and “ “ she lowered her voice “-- bites.”
“And you don’t seem at all put off,” said Martha slowly. “My sister couldn’t cope at all.”
“Your sister?”
“Mmm, my sister, Mary. She was Lily Evans’ best friend and she went out with Remus for a while but ...” She stopped and pushed her plate to one side. “It’s not my story to tell. Perhaps you should ask Remus next time you see him.”
Tonks pushed her fork around the plate trying to mop up all the gravy with her last potato. “The next time I see him? I doubt that will be anytime soon. As far as I know he’s still in Romania working with dragons. I doubt he’ll return soon.”
Martha chewed at some chicken thoughtfully. “People have a habit of turning up when you least expect them, Tonks.”
“Cancelled!” Tonks exclaimed nearly a week later as she burst into Moody’s office brandishing a sheaf of parchment. “Aw, c’mon, Mad-eye, I’m supposed to be seeing my Nan at Christmas. Why has my leave been cancelled?”
Moody was sitting at his desk, flicking through a pile of reports. “All leave has been cancelled, Nymphadora, not just yours. There’s a crisis at Hogwarts in case you hadn’t noticed and the Minister wants to make sure we’re on red alert to deal with anything untoward.”
“Are we going to Hogwarts, then?” Tonks asked, failing to keep a note of excitement out of her voice.
“No,” Moody replied shortly. “Fudge just wants us on standby.”
“And is the Minister going to be here on Christmas day?” she asked slyly as she sat down in the proffered chair.
“Don’t be impertinent, Nymphadora,” rasped Moody, then he added sardonically, “The Minister is far too important for a small matter of the petrification of Muggleborns.” He sighed and began to shuffle his papers together. “I’m sorry about your leave, but there will be other times. For now I need you to visit the Ministry library and discover anything you can about the Chamber of Secrets.” Moody paused. “This is hush-hush, just between us two and Professor Dumbledore, do you understand?”
“Professor Dumbledore?” she said in an awed tone.
“That’s what I said, Nymphadora. He requested you especially.”
The Ministry library was based in a large room in the Magical records department. Tonks had visited it precisely once, when she’d had a tour of the building in her pre-training days. It was surprisingly bright and airy for a library. Tonks appreciated the order in which the books were kept but found it strangely soul-less. At Hogwarts, the dark corners and flickering lamplight had added to the atmosphere and made research inviting, but here the almost blue lights, used to keep the books in pristine condition, and cast cold shadows everywhere.
For the next few weeks when Tonks wasn’t out with Moody, she was ensconced here looking for any clue that could help discover the truth about the horrors going on at Hogwarts. There was a brief mention of a chamber built by Salazar Slytherin when he left Hogwarts, but Moody had asked her to see what she could find out about it being opened once and of that she could find no trace.
“About fifty years ago, Nymphadora,” he’d explained. “It was a few years before my time but I still remember the older students talking about it.”
She sighed in exasperation. The records for Hogwarts at that time appeared to be missing and although she searched ten years either side of the dates Moody had given her, she could not find any answers for him.
“Back again?” the librarian, a kindly witch called Maud Goodbody, asked her.
“Mmm,” Tonks replied. “I’m really not having much luck.” She stopped talking; Mad-Eye had told her she was not allowed to tell anyone what she was doing but maybe there was some way the librarian could help.
“Do records ever get taken out of the library?” she began. “Or do they get mislaid?”
Maud’s face stiffened slightly. “None get taken out of the library, my dear. The Head of Magical Records, Mr MacMillan is most particular about that ... especially after the last time.”
“Last time?” repeated Tonks. “What happened the last time?”
Maud leant into Tonks, her face shining with excitement at the information she was about to impart. She settled herself into a seat opposite and bent her head lower. Tonks could see a small wart quivering on the side of her nose and had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing. “Oh, my dear, haven’t you heard what happened? Well,” she mused, “I suppose you are a bit young.” She looked around her. “About fifteen years ago one of the clerks took away a series of records from the library. It was frowned upon in those days, but not strictly forbidden. Anyway, this clerk was found a week later,” she paused dramatically, “dead! And the records were gone.”
“Gone?” said Tonks in shock. She was expecting some minor scandal involving a spilt cup of Pumpkin Juice over the pages, or a Kneazle chewing some pages “ but this was horrific. “What records were they?” Tonks asked at last.
Maud closed her eyes. Tonks could see the old witch’s lips moving as she tried to recall the events of fifteen years before. “Hogwarts records,” she said at last. “I can’t remember the years, exactly, but I remember Mr Lupin’s face as clear as the day he took them out. That must have been the last time I saw him.”
“Who?” Tonks’ face whiplashed back to the librarian. “Who was the clerk that removed the records, Miss Goodbody?”
“John Lupin,” repeated Maud. “Poor man, always so polite, he didn’t deserve such a nasty end.”
The weeks turned into months and still Tonks was unable to discover anything at the Ministry library about either the Chamber of Secrets or any records that John Lupin may have taken with him. With her second year exams looming, she was relieved one evening to be pulled off the case by Moody, who informed her that the danger had passed as a second-year boy “ one Harry Potter- had apparently solved the mystery and killed a Basilisk in the process. Feeling slightly jealous that she hadn’t managed to do anything that exciting at school, Tonks was relieved nonetheless that she now had time to concentrate on her exams. Moody, she knew, was pleased with her progress, but she wasn’t satisfied. Her clumsiness threatened to get her kicked out and she knew she had to manage it somehow to satisfy Scrimgeour’s’ standards.
“Concentrate, Nymphadora,” Moody barked at her one afternoon. “You need to focus. If you trip in the field, you’re dead.”
“I know that,” she replied through gritted teeth. She picked herself off the ground. They were in a dilapidated Muggle street where she’d been shadowing Muggles, perfectly successfully, until she’d tripped on a discarded beer can down an alleyway. She wiped her forehead. It was a hot late-June day and she was tired. “You’re not exactly wearing the best disguise in the world, Mad-Eye. Well, not if you want to remain inconspicuous.”
Moody grunted something, and then removed the purple bowler hat he was wearing. He looked as if he were about to bark an order at her, but his attention was snapped away from her by the sound of a crack.
Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared from behind a dustcart. He was smiling as he walked towards them. “How’s it going today?” he asked.
As Moody raised his eyebrows, Tonks glowered at him and Kingsley began to laugh. “Alastor, why don’t I take over? The Minister and Rufus are looking for you; they need to discuss a situation concerning Malfoy’s resignation as a Hogwarts Governor.”
Moody nodded and then, checking that there were no Muggles nearby, Disapparated.
Kingsley smiled again at Tonks. “How is it really going, Tonks?”
She sighed. “One minute I think I’ve cracked it and the next I’m falling over my feet again. Mad-Eye keeps barking at me to focus, but my head’s just aching. I feel clumsy and stupid, Kingsley; sometimes I just want to give up.”
Kingsley leant forward and touched her forehead. “I don’t think you’re stupid, Tonks. I think you’re exhausted and ill.” He took her hand and led her towards the pavement. They sat together on the kerb and he brought out two bottles of Pumpkin Juice. “I know you’ve been working hard lately. There’s been your normal Auror training, work for Mad-Eye, and I’ve noticed you’ve been putting a lot of time in at the library.” He paused and swigged his juice. “You need some time off to rest and recuperate.”
Tonks rubbed her eyes. She was unused to this camaraderie from a colleague, and suddenly Kingsley reminded her very much of Charlie. Moody was a wonderful mentor, but she didn’t have a friend. “I am tired,” she admitted finally.
Kingsley put a hand on her shoulder. “Then take a break. Go home and see your parents. Relax for a while and maybe when you come back, you’ll feel refreshed.”
At her parents’ house, Tonks found a semblance of calm. Her Nan was there, too, which always meant there was laughter ringing around the house and Tonks found herself enjoying life once more. And once her mum had stopped enquiring after Rob and her love life in general, she found she could relax.
Three days before she was due back, Tonks took herself off camping. There was a stream running through a wood, and she’d spent many a happy moment there in her childhood. It was secluded, so she’d had no need to wear hats or hoods to keep her ‘naughty’ hair under control, and she’d felt happy with just her dad as they watched the badgers.
Sitting by the stream, listening to the water as it flowed over smooth stones, she thought about the time her dad had brought her here after Sirius’ incarceration. She’d been a screaming, sobbing mess, unable to believe what had happened. Andromeda had wanted to call in a Healer when she’d refused to leave her bed for weeks on end, but Ted “ always the practical one “ had declared he knew his daughter. He’d strode into her room, picked up his yelling and kicking princess, and Apparated with her to this very spot.
“You can scream as much as you want here, Dora, love,” he’d said gently but firmly. “There’s not a lot you can do for the man. And I’m not sure he deserves your agony. But you have to find a way to get through it, and this is the only thing I can think of. So shout your loudest, and see if you can wake the badgers.”
It had been a cold, wintery day. She’d cried until her throat was raw, and after a while when she could scream no more, her dad had held her in his arms. In silence, they’d watched as the badgers emerged from their sett to feed. It had given her a sense of peace, a sense that some things remained constant despite the awfulness of the world around her.
And now, nearly twelve years later, she still found solace in this place. She brooded on Sirius’ letter to Martha and his confidence that his young cousin would be in Gryffindor. “I couldn’t have been a Gryffindor, Sirius,” she said out loud. “I tried, you know, but the Hat said that my loyalty, above all else, ‘shone through’. Would that have disappointed you?”
”I doubt it, Tonks,” said a voice above her.
Tonks lifted her head sharply. A shaft of sunlight shining through the trees momentarily blinded her, and she found the emerging figure difficult to discern. She blinked twice, and then shielded her eyes from the sun. She gasped, for standing in front of her, looking shabby, tired, and badly in need of a haircut was Remus.
“Wh-what are you doing here?” she asked in a strangled whisper.
Remus walked purposefully towards and then settled himself on the bank next to her. “I came to find you,” he said at last, “to stop you doing anything stupid.”
“What do you mean?” she asked. “I’m always doing stupid things, so why now?” She giggled -- slightly hysterically -- as the shock of his presence was just starting to sink in. She beamed up at him, but his expression was grim.
“Merlin!” he exclaimed. “You don’t know, do you? Look, Tonks, you need to get home. I called to talk to your parents, but they weren’t there, just your Nan. She told me where you’d be.”
He was fiddling with the end of his wand; she’d never seen him nervous before. Suddenly she was very worried.
“What’s happened?”
Remus placed his wand down on the earth, picked up her hands and held them tight. She was now so close to him that she could see the yellow flecks in his light brown eyes. She had an urge to blow away the overlong lock of greying hair that had fallen across his forehead, and to put her lips to a scar above his cheek. He moved forwards, and she was sure for one infinitesimal moment that he was about to kiss her. Then he shook his head and, clearing his throat, said in an eerily calm voice.
“Two days ago, Tonks, Sirius escaped from Azkaban.”