Wotcher pals! Well, I'm back again with a story… hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer : ... imagine the possibilities … eight movies dealing with nothing but Remus and Tonks… from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part two… and they wouldn't even die if I had the rights for the story… why is it that I simply can't convince JKR to merely LEND them to me?? sigh

If Wishes Were Thestrals, Beggars Would Ride

"Broken Crockery Brings You Luck"

Nymphadora Tonks was sitting in front of a small two-men tent and staring into the clear blue afternoon sky. She sighed. She felt very content right now. Not three days ago had she successfully finished her Auror's training, with top marks at Concealment and Disguise. Given she was a metamorphmagus, she, of course, had not had any difficulty at all to change her appearance. Now she was sitting – on a warm Monday afternoon – in front of the small muggle tent she was sharing with her father.

Ted Tonks had surprised his daughter on Friday evening, handing her two tickets for the Quidditch World Championship. The twenty-one year old woman was positively awed at the prospect of seeing the Quidditch World Cup final. Three years she had lived without free time, always studying hard, but in the end, all the work had paid out.

As present for her successful training, achieving a job at the Aurors office at the Ministy of Magic on the way, she had gotten the tickets from her parents. They had assumed she would take one of her friends along, but seeing as she had had no time to make any friends in the first place – being kind of a freak with her morphing powers didn't help either – she had decided to take her father. Her mother had gladly volunteered to stay home, because she didn't like such mass gatherings of people and was no fan of Quidditch, either.

"Dora," said a voice from inside the tent. "Come and have a look! It's marvellous!"

Nymphadora crawled through the entrance and looked up. She couldn't stand in the tent. Her father was sitting on his slepping bag, reading a leaflet which obviously concerned the program of the match. They had agreed to take the muggle tent instead of her mothers wizards' one. There may have been a magically conjured appartment with toilet and bathroom and kitchen in the wizard tent, but Nymphadora and Ted thought that it was much more fun the muggle way.

"Look, here are complete biographies of all bulgarian and irish players," Ted showed her the page. Nymphadora looked at it briefly and then turned to the entrance.

"I'm going to get us some water," she announced quite cheerfully and was already halfway out of the tent when she heard her father's voice say "be careful" behind her. She stuck her head back into the tent and stuck her tongue out at him. Ted grinned at her. She was clumsy and he liked to tease her about it. But she wasn't really angry at him. It was kind of a running gag between them.

She picked up the grey bucket which was sat beside their tent and made her way along the field witch was covered with tents all over. There were small, muggle-looking ones and obviously magical ones. The latters were very much like real houses, with various floors or even real gardens around them. Others were decorated in the bulgarian or irish national colours, with posters of the bulgarian Seeker, Viktor Krum, or enormous green irish flags.

Nymphadora smiled to herself, content that she did not have to work yet. Her job started on September 1st and she thought of running around all day to remind people to keep the magic hidden.

It was already late afternoon and the match would start around sundown, so nearly everyone was getting constantly excited. Children were running around the place, chasing each other between tents, adults were sitting in the sun, enjoying the weather, and school kids were talking excitedly in groups. There were witches and wizards from every country in the world, and Nymphadora couldn't suppress a wide smile stretching across her face at the thought of so many people enjoying themselves together.

…

Remus Lupin made his way carefully along the way between hundreds of tents. He cast a look at the sky and wondered how exactly it could be so blue. Completely oblivious to all the ongoings in the wizarding world. Remus was walking by people of every age and nation, all of whom were chatting excitedly about the Quidditch match that was about to start in a few hours. But Remus would not attend the match.

Dumbledore had sent him, asking Remus to keep a hidden eye on Harry Potter while the latter was there to enjoy the Quidditch World Cup final.

Remus' face was hidden under his hood. Every witch and wizard in England knew about his condition, after the countless articles Rita Skeeter had written for the Prophet since the end of the term, where she accused Albus Dumbledore for letting a werewolf teach at Hogwarts. Thus, was Remus not the most welcome person to show his face in public.

Remus looked around. Nobody was paying him attention anyway, so he risked to shrug off his hood and welcomed a nice breeze blowing through his hair.

…

Nymphadora reached the place where a water tap was placed and situated herself in the queue. It took a whole ten minutes to actually reach the tap and get the water, because right in front of her was a very old witch who did not seem to be able to gather the strength to turn the thing on. Then the old witch refused to let herself be helped and finally, after some annoyed shouts from the end of the queue, Nymphadora lost her nerve and turned the water tap, unnoticed by anyone, with her wand.

On her way back, the bucket only filled to two thirds with water, due to some stumbling, she ran into Bill and Charlie Weasley, whom she knew from Hogwarts. They had a little chat and when they parted again, Charlie shouted "Don't trip!" after her. She threw a Tripping Jinx at him and watched him taking down his brother as well.

Still sniggering, she nearly bumped into an exhausted looking man. He wore a pair of heavily patched robes and though he seemed quite young, he had grey-streaked hair.

"Sorry," the young woman apologised. The man looked at her, slightly captured by her violently pink hair.

"Don't mention it," he responded and made to resume his path.

Nymphadora turned around and watched him go. He was thin and tall but had a steady step. His light brown hair – including the grey strands of course – looked slightly dishevelled.

"Hey!" she called after him with a sudden urge of pushing the sad look off his face. The man turned around. "Have fun at the match!" she shouted and flashed him her nicest smile.

An astonished look washed over his face and then he smiled back at her. "Same to you."

Nymphadora grinned to herself and walked back to her tent. "What are you smiling about?" her father asked suspiciously.

"Nothing."

It was not long before the sun had disappeared behind the treetops and the darkness had fallen on the whole place, when the lights in the forest had lighted and people were excitedly making their way through the forest and into the huge stadium beyond it.

Nymphadora and Ted joined the other witches and wizards on their path and after half an hour, they had taken their seats in the Irish fan corner. They were sitting in the very middle and halfway up the seats. It was not the best place but they did not let themselves down due to a second-class view.

Nymphadora laughed at the man beside her, who started tap-dancing when the Veela, the bulgarian mascots, sang and performed. Ted had stuck his fingers into his ears.

The match was amazing and over much too soon. Nymphadora and Ted discussed Lynchs spectacular crashs and laughed at Krums broken nose.

"The break of his nose might only have improved his looks…" the young woman snorted. Ted laughed along with his daughter.

It had been a fast match. The highlights being the double-performed Wronsky-Bluff and the fight of the team mascots, nicely finished by Krum bleeding on the whole pitch. Father and daughter walked back to their tent together and enjoyed themselves on their way. They sat in the grass in front of their 'home' for a quite a while, celebrating along with the Irish, before they heard distinct bangs getting louder and louder. At first nobody cared, everyone apparently under the impression that some Ireland-fans started to cross the line. But the cheers and wrongly sung national hymns rapidly turned into screams of fear. The red and green lights of the Leprechans faded and were replaced by orange flames, black smoke and the smell of burning cloth.

Ted and Nymphadora – as well as most people around them – fell silent and listened. The screams were growing louder, the noise obviously coming in their direction. Suddenly the shouts of fear were joined by screams of pain and despair. Nymphadora exchanged a look with her father. Something was going terribly wrong. They stood up and, like everyone else around them, pulled their wands from their robes. All gazes were fixed onto the end of the field, where there was an orange glow above the roofs of the last tents.

Then, four figures came into view, two adults and two children. Nymphadora covered her mouth with her wandless hand and Ted gasped beside her. The four people were hanging in the air, helplessly, screaming in fear and pain. It was a bizarre view.

Underneath them, one could only make out a dark group of people with pointed hoods. At once, the scenery began to go haywire. People were running everywhere, in all directions, into the woods, towards the entrance of the tent place, everywhere but far away from the fire and the screams and the hooded figures.

Nymphadora stood rooted to the spot, torn between running and hiding and helping. Due to the true Hufflepuff she was, she finally decided on helping and began to move towards the trouble.

Like in a trance she heard her father calling after her. She turned and saw him rushing to her side.

"Dora! Let's go together!" he suggested and raised his wand.

Nymphadora nodded determinedly. They began to run towards the black mass, while most people chose the other direction. Nymphadora pushed her way through an extraordinarily thick crowd of horrified witches and wizards – all of them running the other way, of course – and just reached a group of Ministry Wizards when she noticed her father's absence.

"Dad?" she shouted, more than a little worried. "Dad!"

The hooded – and now, one also saw that they were masked – people had now approached the Ministry officials, the pink haired girl no more wanting to help defeat them, but desperate to find her father.

Nymphadora Tonks turned her back on the Death Eaters, clearly intending to look for her father. She turned the direction where they had come from and screamed his name, tears of fear now stinging in her dark eyes. She turned her gaze towards the forest and there she saw it.

The Dark Mark.

A bright, sparkling, green skull had risen over the tops of the trees, lighting the whole bizarre scenery in a creepy way. Then the skull's jaw opened and out of its mouth slithered a huge red snake. The young Auror knew what this sign meant; it was You-Know-Who's sign, only to be conjured by one of his followers; a Death Eater. Now she really was terrified.

The next things happened very fast. Behind Nymphadora were several shouts and pops to be heard. She turned her head, more out of reflex than anything else and saw the masked figures disapparating. The Ministry guys tried to hex them, but it was no use. Then they saw the green skull right above the forest and most of them disapparated as well – to the source of the Mark, Nymphadora thought – but some started simply running in the direction, one of them unintentionally hitting the pink-haired girl in the process and knocking her out.

…

Remus was near the forest when he noticed the noise and the fire. He looked around to check if Harry was safe; he was with Arthur Weasley and his friends. They seemed to be heading into the forest where they assumed it to be safe, so Remus decided to have a look at what was causing the trouble.

He made his way along the edge of the forest, rushing along just in the secure shadow of the trees, drawing nearer and nearer to the fire that had by then consumed the first tents. People were rushing past him in the opposite direction, seeking security in the woods behind him.

Remus, wand clutched in his hand, stopped deas in his tracks when he saw what exactly was happening. There were people hanging in the air, defenceless, helpless, crying, afraid of what would happen to them. Remus recognised one as the Muggle caretaker of the camping field. The other three must have been his wife and children. Remus swallowed. Underneath the floating Muggles he saw a group of black hooded, masked people.

He had seen them years before. Death Eaters.

Remus gasped and tightened his grip on his wand. He began to slowly walk towards the mass of masked figures, until he was right near them, nothing but a tent separating him from Voldemort's followers.

Right as he was about to strike – he had a clear view on a bunch of Ministry Officials and saw that they were getting ready to fight – there was a crash behind Remus and several people screamed. He turned his head slowly, his eyes meeting the quite familiar green glimmer of the Dark Mark. The blood drenched off Remus' face. He tensed, stood, paralysed, until the Ministry Wizards disapparated, a few running past him.

He saw the Death Eaters disapparating as well and joined a couple of quick-minded wizards, who had raised their wands to stop the Muggles' fall. They levitated the horrified family slowly to the ground and Remus aided the Officials in escorting the terrified and confused caretaker and his wife, as well as his son and daughter back to the entrance. They were most definitely going to be thoroughly obliviated.

Through the window of the Muggle's house, Remus witnessed Arthur Weasley and his children, as well as Hermione and most importantly Harry, taking a portkey and disappearing. He sighed. He had been afraid to have neglected his duty to keep Harry safe. But the boy had appeared to be safe and healthy.

Remus exited the house and watched a couple more families – and a few familiar faces as well – leaving the place. He kept hiding in the shadows of the early morning sun until he thought of what better to do with his time. He re-entered the camping field and began walking all the way towards the forest, looking for injured or unconscious persons on his way.

Right near the place where the Death Eaters had disappeared the previous night, Remus noticed – amongst all the destroyed tents – a mass of pink hair. He gasped, remembering the cheerful girl he had met the day before.

He rushed to her side and – she was laying face down – turned her around. Her beautiful pale face was peaceful and still. He supported her back with his left arm and brushed a lock of her pink hair from her forehead.

…

The hysteric noise was gone when her conscience returned. Nymphadora opened her eyes slowly, taking in the smell of burnt cloth and smoke. There was indeed smoke in the air, it hung like fog between the few tents that were still standing. The only noise was the rustling of the leaves in the trees and the soft breathing of a person nearby.

Immediately remembering what had happened, the young woman's eyes widened. She looked up and saw a familiar face. It was lined, though still young and he was smiling gratefully at her. It was the man whom she had met earlier, before the match and all the confusion.

"How are you?" he asked quietly. She noticed that they were kneeling on the ground and he had one arm draped around her back and her head actually rested on his shoulder. She blushed slightly.

"I think I'm fine, thanks," she replied. "Where is everyone?"

The stranger smiled sadly. "A lot of them disapparated, the others already packed and are now waiting at the entrance to get a portkey."

Nymphadora's face constricted with worry, a familiar lump in her throat making it difficult for her to speak. "My dad… I lost him at some point tonight… "

"What's your name?" the man asked calmly. He seemed the master of the situation, well, thought Nymphadora, maybe he's here alone, maybe he has no one to worry about.

"Nymphadora Tonks," she finally answered his question.

A strange look of acknowledgement and relief placed itself on his face. "Your dad being Ted Tonks?"

Her jaw dropped. She nodded numbly. Had they found him? Was he-?

Her fear must have shown plainly on her face, because the man smiled at her reassuringly. "Don't worry, he's alright. Just a few bruises. I'll take you back to him. Can you stand?"

But the girl in his arms just threw herself into him and hugged him tightly. "Thank Merlin!"

Remus patted her shoulder awkwardly. Normally people wouldn't even touch him. But, of course, the girl did not know who he was. Feeling it unpolite not to introduce himself, he attempted so. But the pink-haired witch interrupted him.

"I know who you are. I just remembered," she smirked, finally standing up. Remus' heart dropped. "You are Remus Lupin, right? You taught Harry Potter last year."

Remus stared at her. He had imagined her mentioning the mindless act to insert a werewolf as professor. Well, he'd been wrong.

"What's he like? Harry Potter that is," she asked cheerfully as they started walking towards the entrance of the camping field. "I've always wanted to meet him …"

Remus smiled genuinely. She must have known about his condition, for it had been all about the newspapers a couple of weeks ago, and yet she didn't seem to particularly care.

"Harry… he's very… modest. He has done things not even a grown wizard would have been able to deal with. And yet he's still indigenous. Though he has a certain habit to get himself into trouble…" Remus trailed off, thinking he might be boring her to death, but a quick glance to his right showed him that Nymphadora was listening intently.

Remus did not resume his soliloquy, so Nymphadora took the conversation into her hands. "That reminds me of my cousin, Sirius, he always told me stories about his mischief at Hogwarts," she laughed at the memories, but then her face darkened, "but he was in Azkaban and now he's on the run. My colleague, Kingsley Shacklebolt is entrusted with the case. I don't quite know the whole story actually, though my mother still claims he is innocent…"

She stopped talking because Remus' face had become white and in his eyes pure shock was shown. "Are you…" he stopped walking and looked at her suspiciously, "Are you an Auror?"

"I'm starting on September 1st," the young witch replied. Then she started to remember something. "Say, who conjured the Dark Mark back there?"

The blood was back in Remus' face, and he looked thoughtfully back towards the forest, where the Dark Mark had shone brightly not two hours before. His gaze flew over the smashed and burnt tents, over the smoke lingering everywhere and finally came to a halt on two spakling dark eyes.

"I don't know. They didn't catch them." Remus replied somewhat lamely.

"He's alive, isn't he? You-know-who," she added due to his confused look. "No one wants to say so, but I can tell… something's happening… people disappearing…"

"He might come back, yes. In fact, I think so," Remus watched her face considerately.

Nymphadora stared at the forest for a second longer and then turned her back on the place. "I'm gonna be ready. I won't close my eyes from reality once he returns."

Remus did not smile. In fact he made a mental note to himself to do something, once Voldemort would be back to his powers. Together they resumed their way towards the entrance of the tent park, where Ted Tonks, amongst many others, was waiting for the survivors to return. He came running towards them, hugging his daughter closely when they arrived.

"Are you okay, Dora?" he asked and released her slowly. He glanced her up and down and then noticed Remus, who was standing awkwardly behind the scene, not wanting to intrude the happy reunion.

"Remus! Thank you so much!" Ted exclaimed and shook the werewolf's hand gratefully.

After arranging everything, a portkey was waiting for Nymphadora and Ted to bring them home.

Remus watched them disappear in a blue glow. He had not said farewell or goodbye. In fact he was sure "See you" had been an appropriate term.

He was sure he had not seen her for the last time in his life.

Whoa. This is gonna be my first multi-chaptered fic in AGES… actually, if I can think of something interesting to write about. Because I'm rubbish at long fanfics. Bugger.

Will they ever meet again? Who conjured the Dark Mark? And what the bloody hell are Spectrespecs? Find out in the next chapter! Or maybe not. Please Review anyways.