I should be able to remember, he thought angrily. I’ve been here before, surely.
A brief memory flashed into his head, of his sleeping off a particularly rough night at Remus’ flat. He’d woken naked on the sofa, except for a feather boa around his neck, to see Lily and James emerging from the fireplace. James had thrown a cushion at him, imploring him to make himself decent in front of his girlfriend. Lily had simply giggled and declared that the feather boa looked far more fetching on Sirius than it had on the girl.
Who had the girl been? M- It began with an ‘M’, he thought. He shook his head. Thinking about girls was not going to help him find his way to Remus. Perhaps I only went there when I was drunk, he thought.
He wandered up another litter-strewn street, noticing that the Muggles gave him a wide berth. He was, he supposed, quite a scary-looking dog. Imposingly big, but then to control a werewolf he’d needed to be. He looked up at the sky, seeing the sun dipping down below the roofs. It would soon be night and he’d have to get back to the Hippogriff before daybreak.
Which one of these Merlin-forsaken streets do you live in, Remus?
He remembered steps leading down to a front door “ more specifically, he remembered falling down them and accusing a laughing Remus of pushing him. But he couldn’t recall the name of the street.
He screamed in frustration, his voice barking through the air, and a Muggle woman broke into a run, clutching her son to her.
“Come away, Danny. Don’t upset the doggie,” Sirius heard her say fearfully.
He felt ashamed for scaring the boy like that and wanted to trot up to them, but the fear in her eyes kept him at bay. He slunk up to the wall and looked away.
“Hello, boy, are you looking for a home?” Sirius felt a hand on his head, stroking his ears. He looked up to see the battered face of his friend grinning at him. “I recognised your bark, Padfoot,” he murmured. “After all these years, it’s still unmistakeable.” He stood up. “Come on, I live opposite.”
Inside the flat, once the door was securely locked “ and double bolted “ Padfoot became Sirius Black.
Two nights ago, when he’d seen his friend, Remus had been shocked at what he saw. But at the time, he’d been so buoyed up by the realisation that Sirius was innocent, that he’d cast it to the back of his mind. Now, gazing across at the wreck of the man who stood before him, he found it hard to keep the shock from his face. He turned away.
“I expect you’re hungry, Sirius,” he said lightly. “You’re in luck; I’ve just been shopping. He stepped across to his kitchen and took out a pan. “Eggs, bacon, sausages “ will that do?”
Sirius jerked his head, seemingly unable to speak. He was staring warily at the walls and the fireplace.
“I’m not connected to the Floo Network,” Remus said quietly. “Don’t worry; they won’t find you here. After all, who wants to visit a werewolf?”
A brief smile flashed across Sirius’ face, reminding Remus, temporarily, of the teenager he’d been. But all too soon, the smile was gone, and Sirius’ face returned to the gaunt, unmistakably hollow look of a man from Azkaban.
“I won’t stay,” he rasped, his first words since entering the flat. “They’re bound to turn up sooner or later.”
Remus turned the sausages over and cracked some eggs into the frying pan. “You could always stay here as Padfoot. You’d be safe, at least.”
Sirius looked again at the walls and the bolts on the door. “I...I... can’t, Remus.”
Remus served up two plates of food and a plate of bread, and poured out two large mugs of tea. Adding sugar (Sirius had always had a sweet tooth), he sat at his small table and gestured for Sirius to do the same.
Gingerly, Sirius sat on the chair and gazed at the plate of food. He picked up a fork and held it up to his eyes. “Cutlery,” he murmured, and his voice cracked.
Remus stared at this shell of his old friend opposite, and then leant over. Picking up two slices of bread, he forked his own food in-between them and bit into it.
“Sandwich, Padfoot? Saves on the washing up.”
Sirius smiled gratefully and, carefully placing the fork back down on the table, he wrapped his food in some bread and tucked in. Egg dripped onto his chin, and Remus thought again about the teenage Sirius. Meticulous about his appearance, he would have wiped it off onto a napkin immediately. The grown-up Sirius hadn’t noticed, so great was his hunger. He picked up the tea and took a gulp, but it was hot and he spluttered it out over the table, knocking the mug over.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he uttered. Using the tattered sleeve of his robe, he tried to mop up the spill. “I can’t do this.”
Remus picked up his wand and waved it casually at the tea dripping onto the floor. “Tergeo!” he said softly. “Sirius, it doesn’t matter.”
There was a long silence as Sirius stared at his friend. Remus noticed a small spark still lit in the grey eyes as he finally began to speak. “I need a wand, Remus.”
“Well, strolling into Ollivander’s might be a bit tricky at the moment. A rather unflattering photograph of you is festooned on every available wall space.” He swigged at his own tea, noting with pleasure that Sirius was listening to him with something approaching amusement. “I’ll talk to Albus.” He paused. “How did you know I’d be here and not at Hogwarts?”
“Prophet, ” Sirius answered roughly. “I found a copy in Godric’s Hollow. The front page was all about me, but you made a splash on page three. Werewolves at Hogwarts, whatever next? They’ll be letting Death Eaters teach Potions.”
Remus ignored the joke. “You went to Godric’s Hollow?” he asked seriously.
Sirius stared at his plate of food and then pushed it away. “I had to see it again. Somewhere in my brain, even after all these years, I can’t believe he’s gone ... that they’re gone... and ...” He stopped and wiped his hand over his eyes. Remus was silent, shocked at the tears running down Sirius’ face. “That bastard rat!”
Remus stood up. Walking over to a cupboard, he pulled out a half-full bottle of Firewhisky, a Christmas gift from Filius. He poured two large measures, and then pressed one glass into Sirius’ hand. “To James and Lily, a match made at Hogwarts now living in Heaven,” he declared.
Sirius sniffed, a laugh caught in his throat and he stifled a sob. “To Prongs and Evans “ no doubt still yelling after all these years.”
They swallowed the liquid in unison. Remus sat on his sofa and gestured for Sirius to join him but, instead, Sirius hunched himself into a corner on the floor. “Tell me about Harry,” he said at last, as he swirled the Firewhisky around in the tumbler.
Remus chuckled. “Where shall I begin? You’ve seen him. Brave, foolhardy, reckless and loyal “ just like his dad.”
“Lily’s eyes, Remus. He always had Lily’s eyes.”
“Yes,” Remus replied a touch wistfully, “and he’s got her courage and strong sense of ... I don’t know... I want to say duty but that makes them both sound rather stuffy and boring.”
“Fair play? Honour?” Sirius queried.
Remus shrugged. “Perhaps. He’s ... kind, Sirius. I think that’s what I mean.”
Sirius stared at him from the corner, and then stood up. Shakily, he poured himself more Firewhisky and then slunk back down.
“Do you want to stay here for the night?” asked Remus. “You can have my bed. I’ll take the sofa.”
Sirius shook his head. “I...I... can’t,” he repeated.
“Why?” Remus asked.
“Walls, Remus. Too many fucking walls, and locks on the doors,” he spat. “I’m choking on all this ... normality. Cutlery! I mean for fuck’s sake, you have cutlery and glasses and china plates.” He put down his glass and, clutching his head in his arms, he began rocking forwards and backwards.
Remus got to his feet, not quite sure what to do. Sensing that the merest contact could tip Sirius into hysteria, he crouched down beside him. “Padfoot, you’re safe. You won’t be going back to Azkaban “ not now.”
“I still hear them. There are no Dementors near me, but the voices won’t stop in my head. My mum shouting, my dad cursing, Reg crying, and Peter damning Prongs to death.” He looked straight at Remus, his matted hair a string curtain across his face. “Do you know what’s worse? Do you know what memory gets dredged up in the middle of the night when I’m asleep?”
Remus shook his head.
“My own voice: ‘Choose Peter as Secret-Keeper, Prongs. No one will suspect.’ He didn’t want to, you know. He wanted me and me only. Lily saw the sense in the exchange, but she wanted to use you instead of Peter. But I persuaded them. I wore them down.” He looked at the ceiling. “I killed them.”
“Lily-” Remus stopped. Now was not the time to talk of Lily, but he felt heartened, after all these years that she, at least, had never thought he was the traitor. “You didn’t, Padfoot. At least, you’re no guiltier than the rest of us. Perhaps if we’d talked over tea like Lily suggested, instead of getting drunk after missions, we’d have trusted each other.”
Sirius stopped rocking and started snorting. “Pink feather boa,” he said at last. “I remember wearing one when I was here once, and not much else. Lily said it looked better on me than on the girl.” He looked at Remus. “I think her name began with M... oh!” His eyes lit up with an unexpected happy memory. “Martha!”
Remus chuckled. “She’ll be pleased you remember her, but not happy you’ve mixed her up. The witch whose feather boa you purloined was Marlene MacKinnon.”
“Oh.” Sirius eyes went dull again. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”
Remus nodded. Silence descended on the room once more as both men sipped at their drinks. Remus drained his glass, silently toasting Marlene McKinnon and her family who’d been killed violently, pointlessly because she couldn’t give information on the Potters.
“Pink hair,” mumbled Sirius.
“What?”
“Someone had pink hair. On the back of my Harley. Can’t remember... but she...” He banged his fist against his forehead in frustration. “I liked her,” he said uncertainly, “but she wasn’t a girlfriend, was she?”
“Meda’s daughter, Padfoot. Nymphadora Tonks.”
“Alive?”
Remus laughed. “Yes, very much so.”
“Nymphadora,” Sirius scoffed. “Bloody ridiculous name.”
“She agrees with you, and becomes quite violent when called by her first name.” He smiled ruefully. “She prefers Tonks.”
“You know her?” Sirius gazed at him, his interest sparked.
“You could say that,” Remus remarked dryly, remembering the Veritaserum. “It seems she knew more from one afternoon’s meeting than the rest of us put together.”
“Knew what?” Sirius was curious.
“Knew you’d never betray your friends. Your little pink-haired cousin has been trying to bust you out of Azkaban for years, Sirius. She’s carried around the memory of that afternoon in her head and heart. Plaguing everyone who knew you with questions, determined to set things right.” He smiled warmly at his friend and leant his back against the wall. “She can’t wait to see you.”
Sirius took a last long gulp of his Firewhisky and stared at Remus. “I need to go,” he said vaguely. “The Hippogriff will need feeding.”
Remus frowned. “I’ll come with you.”
Sirius shook his head. “No, it’s not safe. They’re probably watching your house in case I turn up.”
“The Ministry aren’t going to care about me walking my dog,” replied Remus reasonably. “Or we could go when it’s darker.” He could feel Sirius’ restlessness permeating the atmosphere. “Stay a bit longer. Let me contact Tonks.”
“No!” Sirius yelped. He started pacing the room and shivering, although it was a warm evening.
“Padfoot, what’s wrong?”
“Can’t see anyone. Can’t meet her. Not now,” he implored, clutching at Remus’ arm. “Not yet.”
Remus lifted his hand and placed it on Sirius’ shoulder. “Okay, just you and me then.” He saw Sirius close his eyes and some of the tension leave his face. “She adores you.”
The tension returned. Sirius pushed Remus away. “I can’t see her. Not like this. Look at me.”
Remus took a step back and took in the desperate sight. It wasn’t just the matted, dirty hair. It wasn’t the tattered robes, the yellowing teeth, or the sunken hollows in his face. It was the eyes “ haunted beyond recognition. This was not her beloved demi-god of a cousin.
“She won’t care,” he murmured, and he knew it was true.
“But I do,” Sirius replied, sniffing. “I’m not that man any more. I’m damaged.”
“You didn’t mind meeting Harry,” he urged gently.
Sirius laughed bitterly. “I had no choice. I didn’t want to inflict myself on him “ or his friends “ in this state.”
“But you did meet him, and Harry is overjoyed to have his godfather in his life again. Tonks will be the same.”
“It’s different.”
“Why?”
“Because Harry expected a monster. He didn’t know anything about me, except for the bad. She’ll be expecting something else.” Sirius ran his hand over his face. “Not today, Moony.”
“Okay,” agreed Remus. He smiled to himself as he heard Sirius, for the first time, call him by his old nickname. “Not today.” He picked up the bottle of Firewhisky and refilled both glasses. “To Harry James Potter “ a boy to make both parents proud.”
Sirius gazed at Remus. He opened his mouth to reply to the toast but no words would come. Instead, he took a slug of his drink. “I need to go,” he said at last.
“I’ll walk with you,” Remus suggested, but Sirius shook his head.
“No, I’d rather be alone. Besides, you’ll scare the Hippogriff. Send me word if Dumbledore has some ideas about my wand, and I’ll meet you, yeah?”
Before Remus could agree or disagree, Sirius had transformed into Padfoot. Remus sighed and led him to the door. “The Hippogriff, Padfoot,” he said as the dog scratched at the handle desperate to get out, “his name is Buckbeak.” He grinned. “Remember to bow.”
Remus laughed as the black dog gave him a filthy look and raced out into the street. He watched for a while until Sirius had ducked around the corner, and then, closing the door, he settled back on his sofa. He debated contacting Tonks, but knew she’d want to see her cousin immediately, and Remus knew Sirius wasn’t ready to see anyone. He needed time. He needed his memories back.
He pulled out his wand and cast a Patronus.
“Albus,” he intoned, mindful that even private messages could be overheard, “I’ve befriended a black dog. He’s quite loveable for a stray, but wants a stick to play with.”
With a whoosh, his silver lion leapt away to Hogwarts.
He looked around his flat, feeling all at once lonely. It disconcerted him. He’d never minded being by himself. During his school days, he’d frequently left the others to walk in the grounds by himself “ knowing, he supposed, that they’d always be there waiting when he returned. Then, with James and Lily dead, he’d forced himself to live apart, not wanting to think about the friendships that had ended that day. And at Hogwarts, as a teacher, he’d loved the solace of his room. Sometimes he wondered whether it was the fact of his lycanthropy that led him to keep his distance, or whether he’d always been like that. He made a mental note to ask his mum the next time he saw her. So why lonely now? He smiled slightly, for he knew why. Sirius was back and the shards of ice that he’d fortressed around his heart were shattering. The process that had started nearly four years before with Tonks’ visit was now gathering pace with the knowledge that Sirius was innocent.
He picked up the plates and the unused cutlery, cleaned them, and stacked them neatly in his cupboard. Then, pouring himself another Firewhisky, he settled back on the sofa to wait for Albus’ reply.
A hammering at his front door roused him from his reverie. Instantly alert, he cast his eyes around the room, checking for signs that Sirius had been there in case it was the Auror department at his door. Levitating Sirius’ glass from the floor into the sink, he hurried to the door.
It was an Auror, but Remus breathed a relieved sigh when he saw which one it was. Clutching papers in her hand, she was grinning from ear to ear. “Proudfoot looks as sour as a Dirigible plum,” Tonks began as she handed him the papers, “but I’m now a fully-qualified Auror and he can’t do a thing about it.”
Remus glanced down at the papers, noting with pleasure that she’d scored highly not only in Concealment, but in Defence, too. A note had been made of her Corporeal Patronus, commending its clarity. He smiled at her. “My first pupil,” he replied proudly and gestured for her to come inside. “Well done.”
She giggled and followed him over the threshold. “Thank you. Honestly, it’s such a relief, Remus. You wouldn’t believe how badly I’ve been sleeping.” She joined him on the sofa, nearly tripping over the cushion Sirius had left on the floor, and pointed at her Stealth and Tracking result. “That was the one giving me most trouble, but thanks to Padfoot...” She grinned again; then looked straight at Remus. “Have you any news?”
Remus gazed at her, unsure what to say. He looked down at his feet. “I have, actually. He was here this evening.” He saw her face light up with joy and placed a hand over hers. “Tonks, he’s changed.”
“Obviously,” she said scornfully. “I don’t know whether you’ve noticed, but I’m not six years old anymore. Where is he now?”
“I don’t know,” he replied, adding firmly, “I don’t mean older, Tonks. We’re all a lot older.”
“What then?”
He opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment, a silver Phoenix flew into the room. Dumbledore’s Patronus swept through the room, but sensing Remus was not alone, disappeared.
Quickly, Remus cast his Patronus. “Albus, it’s Tonks. You’re free to speak.”
He turned back to Tonks who was looking on in bemusement. “Albus Dumbledore devised this method of communication years ago when we were fighting Voldemort and the Death Eaters. It’s very useful, but does depend on the witch or wizard being able to cast a Patronus. We had one Order member, a rather shady character, who couldn’t cast even a sliver of one.”
“What did you do when you needed to talk to him?” Tonks asked, interested.
“Went to all the bars we could think of. Sirius once devised a game where we’d each pick a pub. Whoever was right had their drinks paid for that night.” He smiled at the memory.
“Please tell me where he is,” she whispered.
Remus closed his eyes. “Tonks, I truly don’t know where he is. But he’s safe, and I fed him, so please try not to worry.”
The silver Phoenix flew in again. “That particular stick, Remus, was confiscated by the Ministry. I believe they are kept under lock and key in the Auror Department.”
Remus watched the Phoenix dissolve and held his breath. Albus knew Tonks was there. He knew that she’d do anything to help. At times Remus felt like cursing the man for the ease in which he manipulated situations.
“What is Professor Dumbledore talking about?” she asked him, narrowing her eyes.
“Sirius’ wand,” Remus muttered, not looking her in the eye.
“Oh!” she exclaimed. “The APE room.”
“Ape?” Remus asked in surprise.
“Auror Prisoner’s Effects,” she explained, laughing. She furrowed her brow in concentration. “I’ve been in there once or twice...” Her voice trailed off; she stood up and began pacing around the room. “Receptionist. Log book, entry ... Mmm, that’s the bugger. Not to mention leaving.”
“Tonks, whatever you’re planning “ stop!” Remus demanded.
“Who me?” she asked, her eyes wide in astonishment, feigning innocence. She grinned wickedly at him. “Come on, Remus, you know why Dumbledore told you where the wand was. He knows I can get it.”
“You can’t do this. You’ve only just qualified,” he protested.
“My nan tells me there’s no such word as ‘can’t’,” she replied cheekily. “You wouldn’t want to disagree with her now, would you, Remus?”
“This is stupid. He can get another wand. He can have mine for Merlin’s sake!” Remus stood up and walked towards her. “You are not to do this, Nymphadora.”
“If you think using that name is going to stop me, then you’re sadly wrong. It’ll only make me do this alone and not include you, Professor Lupin.” She laughed again, exhilarated.
He tried a different tack. “Sirius would not want you risking your career for him.”
“Pfft!” She rolled her eyes at him and stood in the middle of the room, hands on hips, reminding him fleetingly of Lily when James had tried to stop her going on a mission with them. “Sirius would be urging me on. I was his Marauder“in-training.”
“This isn’t a game,” Remus shouted. “Bloody hell, Tonks, if you’re caught it won’t just be the sack. It’ll be Azkaban.”
“I’d better not get caught then, had I?” she murmured and touched him gently on the arm. “And I won’t ... if you help me.”
He gazed intently into her eyes as she implored him. She would go through with this, he knew that. He could walk away, refuse to get involved. Sirius could, after all, get a wand from someone else, but she would not be satisfied and, he suddenly realised with startling clarity, she needed him.
“If we do this,” he murmured. “You’ll need me in that room.”
She smiled slightly, acknowledging his capitulation but not rubbing it in. “I can manage without you,” she said at last. “I was only after a look-out.”
“Tonks, do you have any idea what Sirius’ wand looks like?”
She scowled. “No, but all the wands are labelled. Scrimgeour is adamant that we follow procedure at all times.”
He smiled wryly. “But Sirius wasn’t supposed to escape. He was sentenced to life imprisonment, Tonks. You can’t guarantee that his wand is catalogued perfectly.” He paused. “Besides, you’ll probably send the whole lot skidding to the floor as you trip over your foot.”
“Oy!” Tonks punched him on the shoulder. “I passed Stealth and Tracking.” She grinned at Remus as he pretended to cower from her. “Okay, Professor, what’s the plan?”
“Where’s this room?” he asked, thinking hard.
“Just before the holding cells,” Tonks replied. “When we arrest someone, we confiscate their wand and check it in to the APE room.”
Remus was silent for a while. He leant back on the sofa and sipped absentmindedly at his drink. “So,” he said at last, “we need a reason for getting in there.” He paused. “Are there any jinxes placed on the room, or its contents?”
Tonks took a deep breath. “There are no curses set on the contents. Fudge had them dismantled recently so that the Death Eater wands could be studied by the Unspeakables. But the APE room is Charmed so we can’t Apparate in or out. I can get you an Invisibility Cloak from the Auror Department... or Mad-Eye “ he’s bound to have one. I can’t arrest someone for no reason though.”
Remus grinned, loving the feeling of plotting with her. It was like being at Hogwarts again, like being in the Order. “I told you earlier about an Order member who couldn’t cast a Patronus.” She nodded. “His name is Mundungus Fletcher. He’s no stranger to holding cells, Tonks, and I’m sure he’ll oblige ... given the right inducement.”
“Inducement?”
“Tobacco or drink, probably.”
She laughed. “Where do we find him?”
“It’s Saturday night, I know exactly where he’ll be,” replied Remus with a grimace. “Are you ready to change into a hag again?”
The Hunchback’s Hump was a pub that could only be described as sleazy. In the middle of one of the side streets off Knockturn Alley, the oil lamps outside the pub were dirty, giving only a glimmering light. It did not invite customers in; rather it deflected people unless they had nowhere else to go. As Tonks and Remus looked through the windows, she shivered in anticipation.
“Ready?” Remus asked.
She looked at her reflection, the light brown hair falling in wisps on her cheeks, and her skin wrinkled beyond recognition. “Do I look suitably hideous?” she asked under her breath.
Remus studied her. “You look repulsive,” he said truthfully. “Well done.”
“You know how to compliment a girl,” Tonks replied with a grin as she pushed open the door. Unsurprisingly, the Hunchback’s Hump was exceedingly gloomy on the inside. It was dark, dank and dusty; Tonks could feel her shoes sticking to the bare floorboards. “Is he here?”
“Not sure,” Remus murmured. “That could be him over there.”
She followed Remus’ gaze and peered across the bar. Sitting on a rickety stool and slurping a frothing liquid from a dirty looking tankard was a very scruffy man. With unkempt shoulder length hair and droopy eyes staring blearily in front of him, he looked thoroughly disreputable and at home in this setting. Setting down his tankard, he drew a pouch out from his robes and began to stuff some tobacco into a long clay pipe.
“He was an Order member?” Tonks hissed in disbelief.
“He’s very useful,” Remus hissed back, “and unwaveringly loyal to Albus Dumbledore.”
He edged closer to Mundungus. Tonks followed, and soon they were both standing at the bar.
“Hello, ‘Dung,” Remus muttered. “Fancy a bit of work for the Order?”
Mundungus lifted his head from the contemplation of his beer and stared at Remus. Tonks noticed his eyes flickering with an alertness she wouldn’t have expected. “’Lo, Remus. Long time no see. Whatchoo after?”
“We need you to break the law, ‘Dung ... or at least be seen to. This young lady here needs a prisoner “ temporarily.”
Mundungus smirked. “You got shit in yer eyes, Remus? She ain’t young.”
Tonks smiled at him and wrinkled up her nose slightly. It began to change from the hooked, warty protuberance into her normal nose.
“Nice!” he breathed appreciatively. “What you offering?”
Tonks leant forwards. “A blind eye, Mr Fletcher. That ‘baccy you’re smoking isn’t exactly legal, is it?”
He scowled at her. “You arrestin’ me for that? Half the blokes in ‘ere are on this stuff.” He looked around. “And the other half are out of their heads on Firewhisky, so you goin’ to take all of us in?”
Remus pulled up a barstool and gestured to Tonks to do the same. “It’s not a real arrest, ‘Dung. She’ll release you within an hour. You have my word.”
Mundungus held Remus’ gaze and then turned to Tonks. She smiled slightly at him. He grinned back. “Make it an overnight stay, yeah? My landlord chucked me out last week and I don’t fancy another night dossing down on the streets.”
“Deal,” whispered Tonks. “And I’ll even throw in a full English in the morning.”
Remus took Mundungus’ arm and they stood up. Tonks took his other, and the three of them left the bar. As they got to the door, Mundungus turned to Tonks. “Any chance of leaving a bottle of booze in my cell?” he asked and cackled at her.
“Don’t push it, Mr Fletcher,” she replied, but she was smiling.
Apparating directly out of Knockturn Alley, Tonks, Remus and Mundungus landed across the road from the Ministry Entrance. Remus pulled out the Invisibility Cloak Tonks had purloined from the Auror Department earlier that night, and covered himself up.
“’Old on!” exclaimed Mundungus. “Whatchoo arrestin’ me for?”
“Smuggling,” replied Tonks, scanning the telephone box entrance. She pulled a large china mug with a moulded face and handle out of her pocket. “This is a suspected dark arts object.”
“What is it?” Mundungus asked dubiously.
“It’s a Toby jug, used for drinking beer,” she explained. “My Nan gives me one every year. Look, I’m going to cast a simple charm on it, and make out that it scares Muggles when they drink out of it.” She peered closer at the face on the tankard. “It’s bloody ugly and probably does, so not much of a lie. I’ll say I found you in possession of it in a Muggle bar, okay?” He nodded and Tonks continued, “In the morning, when the senior Auror comes to interview you, the charm on this will have mysteriously faded, so there’ll be no evidence.”
“Won’t that cause you problems?” Remus asked anxiously from beneath the cloak.
“I’ll be fine,” she replied with confidence. “They’ll put it down to over enthusiasm from the new recruit.”
Mundungus snorted. “Your boss, old Rufus, can’t wait to get me banged up. ‘E’ll probably give you a medal.”
She smiled grimly at him, then returned to watching the street. It was quieter now, with less Muggles around. “Come on, let’s go. Remus, I’m going to take Mundungus in using the telephone box entrance, that way he is registered. You need to Apparate. We’ll meet you by the fountain, yeah?”
She heard a crack and knew he’d gone inside. Binding Mundungus at his hands, she pulled him across to the decrepit phone box.
“Welcome to the Ministry...” a voice stated as she stepped into the booth.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Tonks interrupted. “It’s Auror Tonks, bringing in a suspect.”
The voice through the receiver became less pleasant and more business- like. “Suspect’s name.”
“Mundungus Fletcher,” Tonks replied. Did she imagine a sigh coming from the voice? There was a whirring and clicking sound, and soon, Tonks held a silver badge in her hand, bearing the words ‘Mundungus Fletcher: Suspect.’
She laughed. The badge was tarnished and had obviously been issued many times before. Mundungus started whistling tonelessly as the floor of the telephone box shuddered and sank below the ground. When it stopped, Tonks bundled Mundungus out and strode with him across to the fountain. Feigning indifference, she slowed her pace, her eyes flicking towards the water. She saw a faint ripple beside the witch statue and smiled vaguely in that direction, knowing Remus was there.
It was late evening, but the Atrium was still busy because the majority of wizards and witches were heading home. Tonks heard a swish of robes behind her as she walked against the tide of employees leaving the building. There were advantages to bringing Mundungus in for questioning, not least that people gave them a wide berth because he stank of stale beer.
Getting out of the lift at the second floor, she faltered slightly as she saw Jacob Proudfoot and Edwin Savage leaving the office.
“Didn’t think you were on duty tonight, Tonks,” called Savage.
“I wasn’t,” she replied, muttering in an aside to Mundungus, “Can you struggle a bit?” She turned her head back to the pair of them. “I was out and saw this guy.”
“What’s he in for?” asked Proudfoot, looking Mundungus up and down. “We’re not here to pick up random drunks, Nymphadora.”
She sighed and raised her eyebrows. “I do know that, Proudfoot. I suspect him of Muggle-baiting with a Dark Object.” She pulled out the Toby jug. “It mutters obscenities when you’re drinking and the Muggle thinks someone in the bar has insulted him. Been causing fights all over the East End. ”
Proudfoot laughed. “It’s hardly Dark Magic. Despite Arthur Weasley’s attempts at changing the law, you’ll never get Scrimgeour to authorise a prosecution.”
Tonks glared at him and he shrugged. “Your head, Nymphadora. I’m just giving you a friendly warning.”
“Yeah, ta,” she growled. “And it’s Tonks, all right!”
“Calm down,” whispered a voice behind her. “You don’t want him coming over.”
Tonks pulled a face and then walked Mundungus over to Savage. “Will you put Mr Fletcher in a cell while I check his wand in at the APE room?”
Lumbered unexpectedly with Mundungus, who obligingly began to struggle and sing an obscene song about goblins, Savage sighed but began walking him to the holding cell. Tonks turned on her heel and headed towards a green door opposite the entrance to the cells.
Opening the door, she spoke to the witch at the front desk, explaining slowly why she was there, and began to dither over the forms. Messing the first one up, she smiled sweetly and requested another. The witch smiled thinly but bent down to fetch another.
“Over there,” hissed Tonks, pointing to an aisle on the right, “are where the detainee wands are kept. Three aisles beyond are the Azkaban wands.”
She felt a slight pressure on her arm as he squeezed her reassuringly, and then Remus slipped past the front desk. Tonks took her time filling in the next form, explaining to the bored witch that this was her first solo arrest and she was anxious to get it right. When she’d dithered as much as she dared, she accepted the chit for Mundungus’ wand and walked to the detainees’ aisle, placing the wand in a narrow silver wand box on the third shelf and putting the chit in her robe pocket. Checking that the witch was looking the other way, she scooted towards the Azkaban aisle.
Remus was there; she could see his hands appearing from under the cloak, rummaging through boxes and boxes of wands. She ran towards him. “Any luck?”
“I was right,” he whispered. “The box that should contain Sirius’ wand has been mislabelled. Eight inches, cherry? I don’t think so.”
“What are we looking for?” she asked, frenziedly opening boxes.
“Fourteen and a half inches, oak,” he replied as he resumed his search. He stopped. “Ah-ha. This could be it.”
Taking off the hood of the cloak, Remus held up a wand to his face. Dusty with disuse, he rubbed at it, causing a small spark to emerge and crackle into the still room.
“Everything all right there?” the front desk witch called out.
“Yes, fine,” Tonks replied quickly. “I just dropped something, sorry.”
She turned back to Remus; he was smiling. “We can go,” he declared hoarsely. “This is definitely it.”
Pulling the hood over his head, Remus crept out of the aisle. Tonks followed, but just as she got to the corridor, she stopped sharply. Proudfoot was standing at the desk, blocking the narrow exit and talking to the young witch. She was smiling at him, enjoying the chat. Tonks swallowed, praying that Proudfoot wouldn’t turn at that exact moment. If he saw her at this aisle, he’d become suspicious, but casting a Disillusion Charm would cause spell activity that he’d notice. Trying to think of the best way forward, she was taken by surprise when Remus grabbed her and enveloped her in the cloak.
“We’ll walk very slowly to the detainees’ aisle, Tonks,” he hissed in her ear. “Then you can emerge from there and get out.
“You won’t be able to get past him without bumping into him, and you can’t stay here,” she whispered furiously. “You’ll be discovered, cloak or no cloak.”
“You don’t have a choice. I’ll give you the wand, and think of a cover story as to why I’m here.” He propelled her slowly along the corridor and then into the aisle. She could feel his heartbeat against her hand, steady as anything. Her own heart, she knew, was pounding with adrenaline.
“I have a better idea,” she said, and grabbing his wand, she pointed it at Proudfoot and the witch. Petrificus Totalus! she thought and watched with only a slight twinge of guilt towards the witch as they both sank to the ground.
“What the hell are you doing?” Remus cursed her angrily. “They’ll come running now and find us.”
“Getting you out of here,” she replied and handed him back the wand. “Now, hex me, and then leave.”
“Don’t be so bloody stupid!” he exclaimed. “I can’t hex you.”
“Fine,” she muttered. “We’ll both stay here and get sent to Azkaban.”
“No! I’ll stay here, and you’ll get out with Sirius’ wand.”
Tonks sighed and her shoulders drooped. She took a step towards him. “Okay, have it your way, Remus. Hand over Sirius’ wand.”
He held it out to her, and she stretched out her hand, but instead of taking her cousin’s wand, she snatched Remus’ again and pointed it at herself.
“Don’t you dare, Nymphadora!” Remus moved to grab her wrist but she dodged him and he slipped on the folds of the cloak. She fell on top of him. Her face mere inches from his, she suddenly swooped down and kissed him hard on the mouth, and then, before he had a chance to catch his breath, she cast another non-verbal spell with his wand and collapsed onto the floor.
“Merlin! Merlin! Merlin!” Remus chided her lifeless form. “You always think you know best, don’t you?”
Kneeling on the floor, he dragged her across the floor and left her half out in the aisle. He stood up and started to leave, but looking back, he crouched down again. A strand of her hair (it was blonde that night) had fallen across her face. Slowly, he brushed it to one side with his fingers. Bending his head down, he placed a very soft, very gentle kiss on her lips.
“Just like your reckless cousin. What was the Hat thinking when it Sorted you into Hufflepuff?”