Sitting at her paperwork-strewn desk earlier that morning in the infuriatingly calm Auror department, Nymphadora Tonks could not have known that her life was going to change. She couldn't have predicted in a million years the kind of assignments she would be receiving in just twelve hours time. As it was, she hardly noticed the mysterious behavior of her co-worker and friend, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and barely looked up from the week old Prophet report, a "collaboration" (although Tonks personally suspected a single author) on the tragedy at the Tri-Wizard Tournament a month ago, by Barnabas Cuffe and Rita Skeeter. According to this edition, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter was a stark raving lunatic who was so desperate for attention that he now claimed Lord Voldemort had risen once more. Skeeter and Cuffe (as well as the Minister, Fudge, the blithering idiot) had advised the wizarding population to pay these insistences no heed, and even the Aurors seemed to be ignoring it all.
Tonks was more than intrigued.
Leaning over the adjoined desks, she loudly whispered to Kingsley (with every intention of being heard), "If you ask me, Fudge's got to be paying the papers not to spill to us! What are we still doing here on our arses when You-Know-Who's back? Conspiracies all around, Shacks!" Thus earning herself a fair amount of glares from her fellow Aurors. Tonks was about to explain that she was (well, partly, anyway) only joking, when she managed to send her chair flying out from underneath her with a badly aimed sit, if there was such a thing. The surrounding Aurors went into peals of laughter, even those who Tonks usually got on with swimmingly. Luckily they were all very used to her clumsiness and, forgetting her earlier comment with a few jokes of their own, went chuckling back to their papers.
Kingsley was not nearly as amused. His initial reaction had been, naturally, surprise at Tonks' comment, along with annoyance at being called "Shacks". After the whole predicament had ended though, he began to think. Dumbledore had asked him a month earlier to begin searching for recruits in and around his department at the Ministry…would Tonks be willing to join them? Even if she had simply been joking, Kingsley thought that a note of seriousness lay beneath her casual remark. He knew that she had the right qualifications, of course, as she was an Auror. Her mind allowed her to think quickly and, if needed, spontaneously. And while she was a bit clumsy with simpler actions such as walking or holding glass objects (Kingsley tried not to think of his shattered Remembrall, a gift from his seven-year-old niece), she could certainly hold her own in duels. Yes, Nymphadora Tonks would do quite splendidly in the Order of the Phoenix. The question was, how to convince her to join?
All in all, a nice trip to the loo, Tonks concluded as she hastily made her way from the third floor lavatory, in which sat a newly exploded toilet. She hadn't meant to hex it, but she had accidentally hit her head against the sink and, becoming slightly annoyed, decided to vent that annoyance on the nearest object in sight. Just like at Hogwarts…she thought nostalgically as she headed down the hallway. As she turned a corner on her way back to the Auror department, a strong hand grabbed her own. Having the reaction time of a puma (as she told herself daily), Tonks' wand was in her hand instantly, and a hex on the tip of her tongue, when-
"Tonks! Put that thing away!"
Surprised at Kingsley's voice, Tonks did as she was told.
"For the love of Merlin, Shacks (Kingsley ignored the very embarrassing nickname)! Youscaredmehalftodeathwhatth ebloodyhellareyouthinkingthe searedangerou-"
She was once again cut off, this time by a whispered, "Silencio!" Furious, Tonks attempted to speak and could not. Instead, she slapped Kingsley.
As he was virtually an oak tree, Kingsley did not seem to react in any way to her rather painful sounding strike. After a short silence, he began to speak.
"I can take the spell off if you promise not to interrupt me or raise your voice. You are also never to tell anyone that we had this discussion. I don't believe that you would, Tonks, but it would mean my job and credibility. Please trust me. Nod if you understand."
Tonks took a moment to absorb this, and then nodded.
"Excellent." Kingsley said, and cast the counter-spell. Tonks stood very still, aware that this was important.
"Now," the Oak Tree continued, "Earlier today, you said that you thought something was happening, something that the Ministry is keeping from us. What do you think that's all about?"
"Oh, Merlin, Kingsley. Is that what this is all about? Please don't report me, I need this job! I've worked so hard…" Tonks looked to be on the verge of tears.
Kingsley's eyes widened. "Tonks, I thought you knew, we're friends. I wouldn't report you for something like that. But I need to know, did you honestly mean what you said?"
Tonks regarded him for a moment, then quietly, "I suppose so. But don't think that I'm a nutter, Kingsley! It's not my fault, it's the Prophet's! I just know that there's something they're not-"
Kingsley once again stopped her, this time merely with a hand raised.
"Tonks, I don't think that you're a nutter. We-that is, I-think that something might be going on as well. Aside from the fact that Harry Potter himself saw something, I have other…evidence that suggests the return of He Who Must Not be Named."
Tonks' face lit up, and her spiked, bubblegum coloured hair went even pinker than it had been before. "Do you mean it, Kingsley? Is there really something happening? Oh, I knew it! Can you tell me what's going on? How did you find out?"
Chuckling, Kingsley said, "I thought you might be this enthusiastic. Tonks, I can answer all of your questions later if you hear me out. But you honestly cannot tell anyone about this, alright?"
Tonks nodded fervently, and even considered aloud making an Unbreakable Vow. "That won't be necessary. But I appreciate your eagerness. There is a group who believes what both you and I believe, and is willing to fight He Who Must Not be Named if the time comes. We think it must come soon…"
The rest of the day went by in a blur of confusion and impatience for Tonks. She found herself constantly veering from her train of thought into the prospect of being recruited (by Albus Dumbledore and Kingsley, no less!) into the Order of the Phoenix, where apparently about fifteen other trusted wizards shared her views on worldly events. Dark times were coming, and they would be there to stop the awful occurrences. Her first meeting was at 7:00, just two hours after she got off work. Tonks was even more excited than when she found out she had been accepted into "the real" Auror training a year before (which included much less filing, she noticed). Just three more hours…two more hours…one more hour…she thought each time the little hand of her desk clock ticked. Waiting was pure torture, but the increasing amounts of paperwork called (a wispy witch would scurry in with a new stack, plop it in front of Tonks, and scurry out quickly from time to time). There were also the constant questions of her even newer associate, Penelope Stodton, which aggravated her to no end. Finally, after counting down the last minute, Tonks jumped up from her desk (banging her shin on the side of it in the process) and practically sprinted to the door. She was almost out, when-
"Tonks!" Someone called from behind her.
"What the bleeding hell is it now?" Tonks snarled, whirling around. Only to find Penelope holding her neon green purse by the strap, looking rather hurt.
Feeling immensely guilty, Tonks headed back over, and after taking her purse, apologized profusely to the girl.
" 'Sall right, Tonks. Have a nice night." Penelope walked back to her own desk and gave a half smile. It would have to do. Apologizing her way out the door, Tonks almost tripped over the carpet, and only just managed to grab hold of the doorknob. With one last "Sorry!" she left with as much dignity as she could muster, followed by a few giggles and groans of annoyance at being disturbed.
Taking the steps down two at a time was risky business for Tonks, but somehow she was able to get out of the Ministry without breaking her neck.
Quickly Apparating back to her flat, she showered as fast as she could (but the water was so warm…and nice….and soothing…) and tried a few hair styles (settling on a shoulder-length pinkish red- Tonks happened to be a Metamorphagus and could take any appearance she liked) when she realized just how exhausted she was. Even her excited mind was slowing down after such a relaxing shower, and Tonks decided to lie down for a bit. Not to sleep, of course, as she had to be at her meeting in an hour. She would just close her eyes and mull over the day. Walking to her large, overstuffed sofa, she collapsed with a sigh. She conjured up a blanket and shut her eyes. What a day it's been…between the paperwork and the…the….
"Shit! Oh, shit. Nooo!" Tonks groaned exactly fifty-three minutes later, her eyes snapping open and glancing at the clock. "No way in hell I can get there in five minutes! What do I wear? What the bloody hell do I wear?" She frantically raced into her room and began tearing out articles of clothing from her closet. Not usually concerned with her appearance, Tonks wasn't sure what to look for. If only Mum were here…she finally pulled out a light yellow blouse and found black not-too-baggy pants and black flats shoved into the corner.
"Shit shit shit shit." Tonks muttered as she quickly changed and took a fleeting look into the mirror. Her hair was still all right, but her eyes were baggy. This she covered up (being a Metamorphagus and what have you) with the small mental note to get to bed earlier. Practically jumping down the three flights of stairs and out of the building, into a nearby alleyway, she Apparated to the address that Kingsley had jotted down for her. And stopped. There was no "Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place" in sight. There was also no one around…anywhere.
Confused, Tonks walked the length of the street to no avail. She Disapparated, thinking that perhaps she had gotten the address wrong, and landed right back where she started, if a few feet to the right. I swear to Merlin, if Kingsley is setting me up, I'll-CRACK! Tonks shrieked and drew her wand, pointing it towards the alarmingly loud noise behind her. Her face grew apprehensive for a moment, before visibly relaxing into an embarrassed grimace, and then a wide smile; her Head of Department, Alastor Moody, was standing a bit to her left. Moody had taught Tonks everything she knew, and was "the best damn Auror in decades," according to Kingsley.
"All right, Nymphadora? Constant vigilance is key, here. Kingsley said you'd be a bit late. Thought I'd walk you in." growled Moody.
To most, Alastor Moody would appear frightening, dangerous, a bit insane, and definitely battle-worn. To Tonks, he was more like a grandfather. She had gotten on with him peachily during training, and she became known as his protegee. More commonly known as "Mad Eye," due to the fact that one of his eyes was fake, bright blue and magically enchanted to see at 360 degrees and through certain illusions, Moody was apt to look after Tonks if ever she needed assistance, and also clearly thought of her as a (rather clumsy) niece or granddaughter He eyed her with an almost amused expression; obviously, she now realized, she was to dress more casually for these meetings.
"Thanks," replied Tonks gratefully (for in truth, she was quite nervous about the meeting) after half-hugging her favourite Auror. Then she gasped; a series of worn steps leading to a battered front door, complete with a silver knocker, had appeared in between houses eleven and thirteen.
"Sometimes it takes a few minutes for it to recognize magic," explained Moody gruffly, walking up to the door and ringing the bell. A loud clanging sound could be heard echoing inside, along with a muffled, odd, dying-cat noise. It only grew louder as the door suddenly gave a great creak and swung open (which was strange, due to lack of knobs or slots) to reveal a long, dark hallway. A large, unlit chandelier hung overhead with spider webs practically draped around its candles. Tonks shuddered involuntarily; she had a small fear of crawly things. Stepping onto the thin carpet, the cat sounds suddenly became more audible; it was a woman's voice.
"Walburga Black," Moody explained irritably. "Your great-aunt, I think. She had a portrait of herself charmed to the wall. Damned bothersome, too, as you might have observed."
"My great aunt? But she died ages ago…and where the bloody hell-sorry (Moody had given her a look)!-I meant, where are we, that my aunt's picture is here?" Tonks was monumentally confused.
"We're currently in your second cousin's house, if you must know. (Tonks made a strangled, shocked noise in her throat-he couldn't mean-) Owned by Sirius Black, escaped convict and alleged murderer. Yep, that's the one." Moody said casually, ignoring Tonks' great astonishment. "I should probably tell you now though, Nymphadora (Tonks had no time to protest the god awful name), or things could get awkward. He didn't kill anyone, but he's on the run from Azkaban, as I'm sure you've heard."
"You're joking. You've got to be joking, Moody. My cousin-"
"Is innocent as you and me, Nymphadora." Moody growled sternly. "You'll do well to accept that. The man has had enough trouble to last a life time, and wants to help our cause as much as anyone."
Slowly, Tonks nodded. Flashes of her cousin, carefree and happy and kind, raced through her head as she remembered her childhood. The last time she had seen him, she had just turned eight. He was at her birthday party, chasing her around in the rain after everyone was gone, while her mother scolded them not to get too muddy. He must have been about twenty then.
A few weeks later, her parents told her that cousin Sirius wouldn't be coming round anymore, but she hadn't truly understood why until she arrived at Hogwarts, where gossip flew at her from all sides. She had to put up a guard, and taught herself more than ever to be tough. Now, she considered, perhaps she had Sirius to thank for that.
But that was beside the point. She had spent the last decade wholeheartedly believing that he was a mass murderer, insane and devoted to the Dark Arts. Could Mad Eye honestly expect her to throw that out the window and greet the man residing in this house with happiness?
Moody must have seen her looking rather thoughtful and skeptical, as he pulled her up the hall and into an empty drawing room.
"Sit." He barked.
"We're late, Mad Eye. We should be getting in!" protested Tonks unhappily. She knew what was coming, and wasn't sure her brain could handle it.
"They'll not mind, Nymphadora. Now be quiet and listen."
Exactly eight minutes later, Tonks walked from the musty drawing room utterly confused. Moody had told her the story of Harry Potter's parents, a fat little man who she couldn't remember called Peter, and Sirius. Poor, bereft Sirius who had lost three best friends along with his freedom in the span of a few days. Perhaps it was Mad Eye's growling tone with which she was so familiar. Maybe it was simply pity for a family member whom she had once adored. Most likely, it was the fact that deep down, under her denial and sadness, she had always doubted that Sirius was capable of mass murder. She recalled thinking up a hundred stories to tell her classmates what had really happened, but knew that they were just silly dreams. After a while, she finally began to accept that her favourite cousin truly was gone forever. Months of telling herself, over and over, that Sirius was a "bad seed" as one fourth year girl had put it, had been very effective.
But now…
Sirius was innocent. He was alive, sane, and assisting the Order of the Phoenix, and what had been completely preposterous for Tonks only minutes before was now a wonderful reality.