I’m sorry to hear you can’t get time off from training at Christmas. It would have been lovely to have seen you again. I now have Mum, Dad, and my little sister, Ginny, coming over. No doubt Mum will fuss about the burns on my arms “ I’m pleased she didn’t see the scald on my face that you witnessed last August. You’ll be pleased to know I’m getting better at ducking the flames now.
You were right about Harry Potter starting school this year. He was Sorted into Gryffindor “ ha ha “ and not Hufflepuff like you hoped. He’s become very friendly with my youngest brother, Ron, so I might even get to meet him. Mum says everyone was staring at him on Platform 9 ¾, poor kid. I’m glad we thought to remove the pictures of his parents from the Gryffindor notice board, I’m sure he doesn’t need the constant reminders. I gave them to Hagrid to look after as I didn’t want to throw them out.
Ron tells me that Quirrell is now the DADA teacher “ which must mean Dumbledore’s desperate. When I had him for Muggle Studies he showed no aptitude for the hexes or anything. Ron’s not keen on your favourite teacher, Tonks. Professor Snape, according to Ron, is always picking on Harry, and Ron’s become quite protective. I’ve told him that Snape’s always been like that “ although you always seemed to get on with him, and your Outstanding at N.E.W.T. level must have cheered him up for a second or two. Godric, the miserable git didn’t even smile when Slytherin won the Quidditch and House Cups last year. That reminds me, Harry Potter has taken over my position as Seeker for the Gryffindor team. I can’t believe they’ve finally relaxed that first year rule. I know how much it annoyed you, too. Harry must be one hell of a flyer, though. Bet you’re pleased he’s not a Chaser “ your record should stand for a few years yet.
I need to end this letter soon as I’m supposed to be settling in the new dragon hatchlings. For dragons, they really are quite sweet. I daren’t send any pictures to Hagrid or he’ll be asking me to send him an egg!
Before I go, I just wanted to say that I’m sure everything will improve soon. Stealth and Tracking are Moody’s forte, according to my dad, so now he’s your mentor things will pick up. And don’t listen to that idiot, Proudfoot. He was that clever dick Ravenclaw, three years above us, who couldn’t mount a broom properly. You’re worth ten of him, Tonks, so don’t forget it.
Take care and much love
Charlie
Xxx
Tonks sighed as she put down the letter after reading it for the fifth time. She had to admit that Charlie seemed to be enjoying life much more than she was at the moment. She had just finished her three month probationary period at Auror Training and, Merlin, she deserved some fun. A trip to Romania would have been wonderful, especially as the alternative, Christmas Day with her parents, was too depressing to contemplate. Tonks’ parents had been incredibly proud of her N.E.W.Ts and almost burst when she got her acceptance letter from the Auror Department. Tonks, too, had been delighted but as the training got harder she’d found her parents’ persistent questions and undiminished pride irksome. If she failed at this, she wasn’t sure she could bear the disappointment in their faces.
Jacob Proudfoot, she thought, and smiled. She’d forgotten his ineptitude on a broom. She wondered if, perhaps, she should remind him. He was now a fully qualified Auror and his arrogance was unbearable. He mocked her continuously for daring to presume that a witch could become an Auror, forgetting that Alice Longbottom and Marlene McKinnon were among the Aurors that had fallen. She also knew that the old prejudice against Metamorphamagi ran deep with him. He would never admit it in front of any of the senior Aurors, but she’d seen his lip curl disdainfully when she’d been demonstrating her skill in Concealment.
Tonks got up from her desk and walked over to the window. The Magical Maintenance Department had just come back off strike so she was delighted to see some sunshine through the enchanted window instead of the howling storm she’d been subjected to for the last month.
I could ignore Proudfoot, she thought sadly, if only I was actually improving.
Her three month training was to introduce the basics of Auror work. Disguise and Concealment she had, of course, no problems with. Medical Basics she’d easily passed too, thanks in no small part to the excellent teaching of Professor Snape who had drilled her in all the lesser known antidotes and healing potions. Defensive spells and attack procedures had caused her little worry and even Strategy, after a shaky start, had proved to be something she was adept at. Her methods in Strategy class may not have followed the guidelines laid down by Rufus Scrimgeour, but they got the required result. However, there was no denying that her weakness, her big flaw, was Stealth and Tracking.
“How hard can it be to stay upright, Nymphadora?” Edwin Savage had jeered after another attempt at Shadowing him had ended badly. Within the first five minutes, he’d hexed her, sending her to the floor. It had been a particularly nasty hex that stung her wrist, so she’d retaliated and left him with a rather ugly purple boil on his nose. That had at least shut him up for a while, and after she promised to restore his nose to its former glory, Savage had looked at her with something that approached respect “ and best of all he’d stopped calling her Nymphadora.
But her improvement had been minimal in that area and she was now considered such a problem that Scrimgeour, who had been deliberating her continuation with the programme, had decided to give her a second chance if she worked under the supervision of Alastor ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody.
That morning she’d had her first meeting with him; it had not gone well. She’d been rather terrified, if the truth were known, but had tried to cover it up by helping herself to a cup of tea and accepting a biscuit when he’d offered it.
“First mistake, Nymphadora,” he’d said in his rough, growling voice. “I could have poisoned that biscuit and you didn’t even make a rudimentary check.”
Tonks had spluttered and her mouthful of tea went all over her shirt. Hastily, she’d returned the biscuit to the plate and put her teacup on his desk.
“We have two years to turn you into an Auror and then old ‘Mad-Eye’ is retiring. Don’t waste my time by fretting on your mistakes. Learn from them!” He’d looked across at her with his magical eye that seemed to bore right into her. It was disconcerting but somehow she felt comforted that this man, this legend, was taking her under his auspices. “Do you have anything you want to say to me, Nymphadora?”
“No,” she’d said, hating the fact that her voice was quavering. She swallowed another mouthful of tea. “Except,” she said and gave a nervous smile, “I prefer Tonks to Nymphadora.”
“I’ll stick with Nymphadora,” he said, his tone making it sound like a Ministerial decree.
Today she was sitting at one of the desks in the office (she hadn’t been assigned her own yet) trying to read a book about Tracking. Savage’s words about staying upright whirred around her mind.
Why is it so hard for me? she thought, and was horrified to find tears starting to prickle in her eyes. Furiously, she shook her head then yelped as a pair of hands grabbed her shoulders.
“Couldn’t hear me again, Nymphadora?” Jacob Proudfoot whispered in her ear. “Perhaps you’re thinking about other things.”
“Get lost, Jacob,” she said, gritting her teeth. He swivelled her chair round so that she was facing him.
“Aw, don’t be like that,” he said. “I’ve come to help you.”
“Help me?” she asked in surprise. “Why would you want to do that?”
“Well, Nymphadora,” he said, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Perhaps we could help each other, if you know what I mean.”
The insinuation in his voice was unmistakeable but Tonks decided to ignore it.
“Not really, Jacob. How could you possibly need my help? Unless...” She paused, and then smiled at him. Standing up, she edged closer and looked at him coyly from under her lashes. His breathing became slightly faster. “Unless you need help mounting a broomstick, Proudfoot. You weren’t much good at that at Hogwarts. Unfortunately, it’s an instinctive skill “ difficult to teach.”
His eyes darkened as she moved away from him.
“Agh, get back to your cauldron, you ignorant witch. I could have helped you. I got top grades in Stealth and Tracking and I was willing to give up my free time for tutoring.” The insinuation in his voice returned and he leant in close to her. Tonks recoiled and found herself backed against the desk.
“Why would I need your help? I have Alastor Moody now.”
“That paranoid git!” he said, and laughed nastily. “Suspects everyone and trusts no-one. If I’d known old, ugly bastards were your thing, Nymphadora. I’d have shot a stinging jinx in my face.”
“It would only improve you,” she retorted, aware that her reply was childish.
His hand whipped towards her. She flinched and reached for her wand, but soon realised that it wasn’t his intention to touch her. Instead, he picked up a piece of paper from the desk. It was a letter, Charlie’s letter.
“What do we have here?” he crowed. “A love letter, Nymphadora. You are interested in men, then? Or is Charlie short for Charlotte?”
“Give that back to me,” she said softly. If Proudfoot had known Tonks well, he would have realised that this tone meant she was now a threat to him. “Give that letter back to me now, or I’ll hex you into next week!” She held her wand up to his face.
“You wouldn’t dare,” he said, but his voice was shaking slightly.
“The last time I got really angry, arsehole, the Gryffindor Quidditch team suffered. I think I can take on one barely trained Auror without breaking a sweat ... or even a fingernail,” she said sarcastically.
There was a long pause as he studied her. The hair that she’d recently started keeping an ordinary brown colour in an attempt to be taken seriously was beginning to change. He could see the roots turning red and saw in her eyes a look of fury. Slowly, he held out the letter to her. Without taking her eyes off his face, Tonks took it back from him, and then pushed him away.
“Now leave me alone,” she said. “I have some study to catch up on.”
The silence in the office was broken by the sound of someone clapping.
“Well done,” rasped Mad-Eye Moody, standing in the doorway. “That showed promise.” He looked disdainfully at Proudfoot. “Top marks in Stealth and Tracking, eh? You didn’t hear this old, ugly bastard, did you?”
Proudfoot flushed an unbecoming shade of puce and stomped off to his desk. Moody walked towards Tonks’ desk from the doorway. “Tell me, Nymphadora: what were you so anxious to hide from him? If it’s something sensitive then you shouldn’t be careless enough to leave it lying around.”
She looked down at Charlie’s letter. “There’s nothing sensitive in it, sir. I just didn’t want him reading it,” she explained, handing him the letter.
“This Charlie, is he Arthur Weasley’s son?” he asked as he scanned the bottom of the page.
“Yes, sir. We were good friends at school,” she said.
“Is he your boyfriend?” he asked her bluntly.
“N...no, not at all. We’re just friends.”
“Good. It doesn’t do to get close to people in this job. People let you down, Nymphadora, and the people closest to you will let you down more than most,” he said resentfully.
“Yes, sir,” she said nervously.
“And one last thing. Don’t call me sir, Nymphadora. Call me Moody or Mad-Eye, everyone else does.”
“Yes si...err, Mad-Eye,” she replied, and grinned at him.
He looked at her appraisingly. “Now why don’t you finish up here and go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’ll just read the end of this chapter,” she said as she showed him the book she’d been studying. Mad-Eye took it from her hand and threw it in a wastepaper basket. She gulped.
“Slinkhard!” he exclaimed. “You won’t learn anything from that windbag. Take it from me: it’s best to learn in the field.”
“I’m not allowed out in the field, though,” she said despondently.
“You are now you’re with me,” he said, winking with his good eye. “Tomorrow morning, six o’clock sharp. See me in Knockturn Alley!”
The next day turned out to be the most interesting day Tonks had had since joining the department. Moody, enveloped in a huge hooded cloak, looked more sinister than most of the people frequenting the bars and dodgy shops.
“Borgin and Burkes,” muttered Mad-Eye. “Practically all the Dark wizards in Azkaban frequented that shop in the days Voldemort reigned.”
She winced involuntarily at the sound of the name.
“It doesn’t do to be afraid of a name, Nymphadora,” he continued. “If you shudder at the name then you’ll never cope when he returns.”
“What do you mean ‘when he returns’? I thought a far as the Auror department were concerned he was gone,” she said. There was no fear in her voice, just interest.
“The official Ministry line is that You-Know-Who,” he said in disgust, “the Dark Lord or Voldemort, as I prefer to call him, died at the hands of Harry Potter. But, tell me this: how could a fifteen-month-old boy destroy such a wizard, when not even the likes of Dumbledore could take him down?” He stopped talking for a moment to point to a tavern on the corner, and then began limping towards it. Tonks followed, and, although she wanted to hear more, she realised that Moody would only continue when he wanted to. As she walked inside, she realised this tavern was the one she’d seen Remus go in nearly eighteen months before. She looked round hopefully, but saw no one she recognised.
It was poorly lit inside and the floor was sticky. Tonks could see a layer of grime on the table that Moody sat down at. She grinned to herself as she tried to imagine her mum in a place this unsavoury. She walked up to the bar to order a Butterbeer, but was looked at so strangely by the one-eyed barman that she sat back down. Moody half smiled at her, and then spoke.
“This isn’t a social visit. We’re here to listen to conversations. Besides,” he said as he pulled out a flask from his pocket, “I only ever drink from my own flask.”
“Don’t they mind that you’re not buying?” asked Tonks.
“They know Mad-Eye of old. They have nothing to complain about. I’ve treated them fairly in the past,” he replied grimly.
There was a pause whilst he swigged from his flask. “Voldemort,” he said at last. “His body was never found. Without a body we shouldn’t presume he’s dead. Meanwhile, we need to keep vigilant, Nymphadora. If it’s not Voldemort who returns it will be another. There are still scum aplenty sympathetic to his ideas.”
“Like who?” asked Tonks.
“The ones who escaped Azkaban. The ones feigning the Imperius Curse,” he replied. He looked directly at her and she could see his swivelling eye had stopped rotating and was watching only her. “The Malfoys,” he said. “I believe you are related.”
Tonks was pleased she didn’t have a Butterbeer at this point because she felt sure she would have spluttered it all over Moody. She had been surprised that none of her superiors had mentioned her infamous relatives before now. She strongly suspected that Professor Dumbledore’s recommendation letter had been so supportive of her that they felt it unnecessary.
“Err...yes. I suppose so,” she said after a while. “Narcissa Malfoy is my mother’s sister.”
“And Bellatrix Lestrange is the other and Sirius Black is your cousin,” he said sharply.
Tonks looked at her feet. She knew that a year ago she would have welcomed this conversation as a chance to defend Sirius, but Professor Dumbledore’s words and those of Remus after her accident were still uppermost in her mind. She had to be clever about this.
“I’ve never met my aunts, Mad-Eye,” she replied, looking him in his good eye. “My mum was blasted off the family tree when she eloped with my dad. I’m considered a cursed child, being a Metamorphamagus, and her punishment for disobeying Black family lore.”
“Cursed?” he said. “You have a very useful skill, Nymphadora, so don’t let preposterous prejudices change you. Your hair, for instance...” She looked at him enquiringly. He continued. “You should constantly remind Rufus Scrimgeour of your presence, not hide under this drab brown. Make him see how useful you can be.”
“Oh!” she exclaimed. “I never thought of it like that.” Instantly, she changed her hair to a tomato red and laughed.
“Be discreet, girl,” growled Moody. “I said it was a useful skill, not a party trick.”
After that, they practised Shadowing hags. Tonks felt fairly sure one hag had seen her, but was reasonably pleased with her day’s work. Moody looked, if not happy, at least less stern than yesterday.
“Not bad, Nymphadora,” he said as they Apparated back to the office. She beamed up at him. “But as hags are generally deaf and blind you can’t get complacent.”
Back home that night, Tonks fell, exhausted, into bed. Tomorrow, she thought, tired but happy, I need to send Mum an owl, telling her I’ll be back for Christmas Day.
Christmas was a busy time for the Auror Department. Whilst other departments packed up for the festive season they were the ones who dealt with the family feuds that always erupted over the holiday. Most of the time these arguments weren’t sinister but occasionally, after too many Firewhiskys, dark secrets would emerge from a miscreant’s mouth to the horror of their families. Tonks had visited St Mungo’s to take details from a witch whose head had been shrunk by her brother-in-law on Christmas Eve, and was now heading back to see Moody.
“Don’t think there’s anything dark going on, Mad-Eye,” she said as she walked into his office. “In fact, if I were the brother-in-law I think I’d have hexed her long before Christmas Eve.”
Moody didn’t return the grin she gave him but motioned for her to sit down.
“Would you care to join me for a drink, Nymphadora?” he asked. He reached into his desk drawer and produced a bottle of Firewhisky.
Tonks nodded and watched as he unscrewed the top and poured her a generous slug. She picked up the glass, intent on having a sip, when a thought entered her mind. She put the glass up to her eyes and looked through the liquid. Then she produced her wand and began to tap the glass. Nothing happened. Finally, she lifted it to her lips and sipped.
“You’re learning,” said Moody, and there was approval in his voice. “Trust no one, not even your boss.”
“Thank you, Mad-Eye,” she replied and took another sip. Firewhisky, she thought, is definitely an acquired taste.
On Christmas Day, Tonks arrived at her parents’ house by Floo just after breakfast. She was laden with gifts for them, this being the first year she’d earned any money.
“Hallo,” she called. “Mum, Dad, where are you?”
“Wotcher, Dora,” said a voice from an armchair in the corner of the sitting room. “Your mum and dad have gone for a walk, so how about you come and give me a hug instead?”
“Nan!” exclaimed Tonks in delight. “How wonderful to see you. I didn’t know you were going to be here.”
“Last minute change of plan, ducks. I’ve been unwell, so Pauline’s running the pub and I’ve landed myself on you lot.”
Tonks ran over to her. She hadn’t seen her grandmother for about six months now and felt horribly guilty about it.
“What’s been wrong with you, Nan? Why didn’t you let me know you were ill?” she asked.
“Touch of flu, love. Nothing serious, but I couldn’t face the pub at this time of year,” she replied. “Besides, after all these years I still can’t get to grips with using an owl. What’s wrong with a letter and stamps, or even the telephone?”
Tonks laughed. Her nan, Shirley King, was a Muggle who ran a thriving pub in the East End of London. Her first husband had been Ted’s dad, but Tonks had never met him because he’d died shortly after Ted had gone to Hogwarts. Shirley had told them how proud he was of his son and how much he would have loved his granddaughter. She’d married again; a man named Jimmy King, had a daughter, and ran a pub with him before he ran off with one of the barmaids. Shirley was battle scarred from men but never bitter. She thought life was a gift to be enjoyed to the full. Tonks loved her very much indeed.
“So what are you doing here, then, Dora?” she asked. “I thought you’d be gallivanting off to Romania with your young man.”
“Who, Charlie?” said Tonks in surprise. “He’s not my young man, Nan. He’s just a mate.”
“Hmmm,” said Shirley. “Isn’t it about time you thought about settling down? I’d quite like some great-grandchildren before I’m too old to enjoy them.”
“Great Gargoyles!” exclaimed Tonks. “Nan, I’m not even nineteen yet. Give me a chance.”
“I was seventeen when I had your dad, Dora. And your mum and dad were married and expecting you at nineteen. Shouldn’t you at least be looking for a sweetheart?”
“Aww, Nan, leave it out,” said Tonks. “I’ve got a career now and that’s all I’m interested in. No time for romance and no interest in any of the men I work with, and they’re the only ones I see these days.”
“I wasn’t thinking about them, dearie,” Shirley replied shrewdly. “I was thinking about one of the boys in that picture you keep in your wallet.”
Tonks blushed. “That’s a photo of my cousin, you know that. That’s the only reason I have it.”
Shirley looked across at her granddaughter and snorted. Tonks knew her nan was simply biding her time until her granddaughter told her the whole story.
“What photo?” said a voice from the hallway. Tonks turned round to see her mum and dad getting out of their cloaks. They walked in and hugged her.
“Oh, you’ve got thin, Nymphadora,” said Andromeda. “You can’t be eating properly.”
“Stop fussing, Mum,” said Tonks, although she had to admit, it was nice to have someone taking care of her again.
“I’m your mother. It’s my job,” replied Andromeda. “Now, what was Shirley saying about a photo? Have you found yourself a boyfriend?”
“No,” Tonks said shortly.
“She carries a photo round in her wallet, dearie,” said Shirley. “She says it’s because her cousin’s in the picture.” She laughed out loud, and then stopped as she became aware of the silence that descended on the room. Ted sat on the arm of the chair with his mum and motioned for her to keep silent.
“Show me the photo,” Andromeda said softly.
“Not if you’re going to destroy it, Mother,” replied Tonks, equally softly.
“I won’t destroy it,” said Andromeda. “But I do want to see it.”
Carefully, Tonks removed the photograph from her wallet. Sirius’ face laughed out at her and she could see Remus grinning right at the camera. She held it out to Andromeda but wouldn’t let her hold it.
“I’ve never seen this,” said Andromeda. “Who gave it to you?”
“One of Sirius’ friends,” muttered Tonks.
“Well, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew are both dead so that only leaves the Lupin boy,” said Andromeda. “How do you know him?”
Tonks took a deep breath and concentrated with all her might on keeping her hair an even colour. Andromeda could always tell when she was lying.
“I saw him in Hogsmeade last Christmas. I recognised him from that night I spent at Sirius’ flat all those years ago.”
“And he just happened to have this photo on him?” Andromeda asked sarcastically.
“No,” said Tonks. “He came to Hogwarts about two weeks later and saw me play in that Quidditch match “ the one where I got the record.” She turned to look at her dad for reassurance but he had his eyes fixed firmly on his wife. There was a long silence.
“Why did you want to speak to Lupin, Nymphadora?” her mother finally asked.
“Because you won’t, Mum!” she cried. “I need to talk about Sirius. I need answers and you won’t talk about him at all.”
Andromeda gazed at her daughter with suspicion, as if she knew she wasn’t getting the whole truth, but soon her expression softened.
“Come with me,” she said in a kinder voice as she walked out of the room.
Andromeda led Tonks into her and Ted’s bedroom, and then walked across to her wardrobe. On the top shelf she took down a small wooden box. She placed it on the bed and motioned for Tonks to sit with her.
“I didn’t destroy anything,” she said, and there were tears in her eyes. “I couldn’t bear to, so I locked away all the photographs, hoping that I could lock away my memories too.”
She opened the box and Tonks could see it was filled with photos and letters.
“For a while,” continued her mother, “I succeeded in forgetting him, but as you’ve got older it’s been harder.”
“Why?” asked Tonks.
“Because, my dear, you are very like him. I don’t mean looks. In looks, you’re a Tonks, but your character is so like his. You’re strong, wilful and so very brave. It hurts sometimes to see how alike you are,” she said.
“Why does that hurt, Mum?”
Andromeda laughed bitterly. “Because he’s in Azkaban having betrayed his friends, and I couldn’t bear it if you followed his path.”
Tonks picked up one of the photos. It showed a much younger Sirius, aged about two, with Regulus and their three cousins. Sirius was squirming on Andromeda’s knee whilst Bellatrix was holding Regulus up for the camera and making him laugh.
“Mum, do you really think that boy in the picture was capable of all those dreadful things?”
Andromeda looked at the picture carefully and ran her finger over the faces of herself and Sirius.
“Why not? After all, the girl holding Regulus did far worse to serve her master. And the little baby became a Death Eater too.”
“So why do you keep all these photographs?” whispered Tonks.
“Because, Nymphadora, there is still a small part of me that desperately hopes the world is wrong and believes Sirius Black is an innocent man.”
At that moment Tonks saw her mother begin to cry. It was like a dam had burst as ten years of tears flowed from Andromeda. Tonks leant over and held her mum close. She held her until her cries had subsided.
“Hey,” said Ted Tonks from the doorway, “What’s going on with my two best girls?”
“Nothing, Dad,” said Tonks as she wiped away a tear from her cheek. “We’re fine now.”
Andromeda looked up at her daughter and then to her husband. Her face was swollen and blotchy from crying but she was smiling. Tonks realised her mother felt released from everything she’d bottled up for years.
“Ted, love, can you start the lunch for me, please? Shirley must be starving. I need a few more minutes up here with Nymphadora.”
Ted looked from her face to the box of photos on the bed, and then finally at his daughter, whose eyes were glistening with tears.
“Right you are, ‘Dromeda,” he replied. “Come down when you’re ready. I’ll keep Mum amused by showing her how I cook turkey with only my wand.”
“Oh dear,” murmured Andromeda to Tonks, “I think the turkey will be burnt this year.”
“You can go downstairs if you want, Mum,” said Tonks. “I’ll stay here awhile and look through these.”
“No,” replied Andromeda, sighing. “I’ve shut you away from these memories for far too long. I think it’s about time we talked.”