A/N: This is a story idea I've had in mind for a while. I'm sure there are a billion of these on fanfic, but I still thought it would be an interesting subject to tackle: the romance of Tonks and Lupin. I don't like doing AU, so you'll find this generally follows canon. There will be scenes here and there that you will recognize from their points of view, but for the most part, these are the in between times. This starts the summer before the 4th book and will go up until the end. (Which is a break for me...I generally deal in happy endings, so I'm not sure what to do there.) For people used to my general posting pace, I don't know that this will follow along those lines. And if you're reading my other WIP, I am still working on that chapter. Promise!

Trial and Error

Tonks huffed to a stop, doubling over and holding a stitch in her side. Her wand lowered as she grimaced to get a look at her time. One hour forty-two minutes and nine seconds. Ten minutes slower than the obstacle record. She could have beat it easily, if it weren't for all those damned tree roots in the dark forest portion. Stealth had always been her Achilles heel, but based on the time, she was well within qualification. Now it was up to the committee to decide how they felt on her performance during that time.

"Not bad," a hard, low voice growled behind her.

Tonks stretched out her side, taking deep, steady breaths to slow her heart rate and get her body back to normal. "That's high praise, coming from you, Mad-Eye," Tonks said.

She was the first in her group at the Academy to take him at his word and call him that during their first week. Everyone had stared blankly at her, then at him to see if he would react. Slowly the others came around. Except Hancock. Hancock was a damn stiff for the rules and never really got around to the nickname.

"Should have taken your time in the middle there," he said.

"Still would have tripped," she replied.

Mad-Eye gruffed. He knew she was right. She stretched her arm, glad Mad-Eye could come. She was in his second class at the academy. The rumors were that they weren't sure what to do with him in the department anymore, with his enthusiastic paranoia and tendency to curse anything that moved, they convinced him to train the incoming classes, and Tonks was glad for it. He was a right pain in the ass, but at least when she said as much he would just give that little growl and move on. He knew it and he was fine if she knew it. And Tonks adored him for that. She would have done much better at Hogwarts if more professors had been like him.

"So what do you think?" Tonks asked, wiping at the snot running from her nose, snuffing up as much as possible. "Think they'll take me?"

"With this whole Sirius Black nonsense, they'll have to," Mad-Eye said. "At least as temporary staff. Just hold back on any snarky remarks that come to mind."

"Well, God bless Sirius Black for creating a job market," Tonks said.

"Snarky remarks like that," Mad-Eye grumbled under his breath. Tonks smiled and looked over at him.

Several more minutes passed as the two waited side-by-side, the three members of the committee conferring as Tonks thought through every mistake. She followed the wrong path in the first leg, though she hadn't waited long on the false lead. The tripping, but it was best they knew about that straight away. Mad-Eye had likely elaborated on that flaw in his recommendation anyway.

"Alright, Miss Tonks, we will be in touch with you in the next few weeks," a tall black man said with a curt nod.

"You couldn't have just said that when I came out?" Tonks asked. The two men flanking him gave her sour expressions.

"We will be in touch," the black man simply repeated.

"But—"

"Let's go," Mad-Eye said, grabbing her elbow and steering her away.

"I'm just saying, they could have just let me know—"

"Just stop saying it to the man who might be your supervisor."

"Who?" Tonks asked, looking back over her shoulder. She could already tell that she would be in trouble a lot with the squat, bald man on the right. His frown had deepened the most at her question.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt," Mad-Eye said. "The one in the middle talking to you."

"Oh," Tonks said, looking back. Shacklebolt was looking at her with a smirk. Based on her experience with past teachers, that either mean he liked her spunk or he planned on using what she said against her. Hired or not. "Noted."

"Going into Ministry work, you better start playing the game a little more, Tonks," Mad-Eye advised. "It won't help your career any to speak first."

"It hasn't seemed to hurt your career," Tonks said.

"That's because I knew how to walk without tripping over my own feet," Mad-eye retorted, his magical eye zooming in various directions, then freezing somewhere in the back.

"What is it?" Tonks asked, looking straight ahead.

"Hancock finished," Mad-Eye said. "Beat your time by three minutes."

"That insufferable little wanker," Tonks seethed.

"Don't start," Mad-Eye advised.

Tonks looked at Mad-Eye, then swallowed it back. Hancock had been a thorn in her side at the academy. He was a smarmy pretty boy who still talked about how he had been Head Boy at Hogwarts. She heard through the grapevine that he failed to get a qualifying grade in Defense for the N.E.W.T.s levels three times before he passed, which was why he was in the academy with her at all.

"Wanker," she muttered under her breath again. Mad-Eye grunted, but didn't reprimand her.

Tonks went to the lockers, grabbing her bag, taking off her training robes and putting on her denim jacket, fixing the collar to meet Mad-Eye just outside.

"What's with all these muggle fashions?" Mad-Eye asked.

Tonks just smiled. Mad-Eye and her mother had more in common than she ever thought they would. Only her mother said it with an exasperation of a woman's whose hopes of a traditional daughter were being dashed, while Mad-Eye growled it out like he had been waiting all his life to be old enough to exhibit this much umbrage with the next generation and would now make the most of the privilege.

"It helps with stealth," Tonks argued. "Look like a wizard dressing like a muggle and it wouldn't matter how easily I can change the shape of my chin."

"Hey," Mad-Eye said, grabbing her elbow on the sidewalk. "Don't worry. You'll get in. You just keep your nose clean when you get in there, right?"

Tonks looked at Mad-Eye. His expression didn't speak to the normal paranoia and irritation at her lack of manners or ability to play by the rules. Both eyes were focused on her—something she had only seen one other time—and he gripped her arm tightly.

"You know me, always one for getting on everyone's good side," Tonks said with a grin. "Besides, now that you're retired I can always just come vent to you. Keep you on your toes."

"I won't be at home," Mad-Eye said. His roaming eye was spinning again. Tonks blinked.

"Where will you be?" she asked.

"Got a post teaching," Mad-Eye said.

"I thought you said you were done with the acade—"

"It's not at the academy. It's at Hogwarts."

Tonks didn't know how she felt about this. Tonks hadn't been much for socializing with her peers since graduating Hogwarts. More often than not, she had eaten lunches with Mad-Eye or hit him up to run drills with her after normal training. She wouldn't have asked any of the other trainers for that. Most of them were in their forties and had families. Tonks never got the impression they wanted to do much beyond their daily hours of work. Once when she convinced him to have some whiskey in his flask instead of juice or water, Tonks was able to get him tipsy and he ranted about how most of the trainers were there because they couldn't hack it in the real world. Mad-Eye was all in, though. Just like Tonks. She had just assumed that once she started, she would be able to crash his place for advice and whatever else she needed to navigate the Ministry.

"Really?" Tonks said. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Besides the fact I don't answer to you?" Mad-Eye said. "Because it just happened. And when Dumbledore asks you to do something, you say yes."

Tonks swallowed and nodded solemnly.

"Hey," Mad-Eye said. "I'm just an owl away."

"Yeah," Tonks said, unable to extricate the disappointment in her voice.

"I couldn't stay with you forever, kid. But you'll do fine. Just remember to tie your shoelaces," Mad-Eye said. "And watch yourself with that mouth. Things aren't like they were at the Ministry even a decade ago. Keep your head down and you'll be able to do a lot more good."

"But—"

"Keep your head down," Mad-Eye repeated, each word deliberate and enunciated.

"Alright," Tonks said. "And thank you, Mad-Eye. Thank you for—"

"I don't do sap," Mad-Eye interrupted her. Tonks grinned. "Let's go get you a drink."

After a couple rounds with Mad-Eye (with a side of advice on getting her own flask), Tonks packed an overnight bag at her flat and headed home. About once every two months her mum would start hinting that Tonks should come spend some time with them. Lately it had been more often. Her mum was a worrier at best, but eventually Tonks always relented, knowing that if she appeased her mum, things were just easier.

Her mother never quite understood her. How could the beautiful Andromeda Tonks really understand a daughter who would rather go rough and tumble with the boys than get dolled up for a ball? Tonks knew her mother had grown up with sisters who all gushed over the latest social event. Dresses and baubles and makeup. Having been disowned didn't change that. And there was even more clarity when Tonks learned a few years before that her mother had miscarried three times before Tonks herself survived the trials of pregnancy and that none of the other attempts would work after that either. By the time Tonks was four her parents had given up on having more than one. Instead they turned all their time and attention on her.

Tonks apparated into the garden. It was more lush this year than it had been in previous years. Her mother must be terribly bored lately. Or worried. She always seemed to put off other things to work in the garden if she was fretting.

"Nymphadora!" her mum called through the open window. Tonks waited until she was moving towards the door and out of sight before making a face.

Her mother was the only person allowed to call her that, but it was more out of the stubborn battle fought when Tonks went to school and stopped using the name. At eleven, she came home for winter holidays and informed her parents that they were now to call her Tonks. Her dad accepted it (with an occasional Dora here and there), but her mother—never one to be informal or to allow others to tell her what to do—continued on with Nymphadora.

Andromeda burst from the door, a wide smile as she rushed down the brick path, pulling Tonks to her. Tonks smiled into her shoulder, returning the embrace.

"Hi, Mum," Tonks said.

Andromeda pulled her back, holding a shoulder in each hand. "How did you do?"

"Mad-Eye thought I did good."

"You shouldn't call your teacher that," Andromeda clucked disapprovingly.

"He doesn't mind," Tonks said for probably the hundredth time. "Anyway, I tripped up a little, but it mostly went smooth."

"Oh, I'm so proud of you," Andromeda said. She turned, linking her arm through Tonks's as they walked back towards the house. "I was just about to start making supper, but how about your father and I take you somewhere special tonight? There's that lovely new restaurant in town."

"Alright," Tonks agreed. "I'd like that."

"Maybe you can change out of the muggle clothes, though," Andromeda said. She reached up playing with Tonk's hair and Tonks knew what was coming. "And maybe a normal color of hair? I love when you wear it blonde. I always wished I had blonde hair, and you're so lucky to have a choice."

"I like it like this, Mum," Tonks said, pulling away from her fingers. "And everyone wears muggle clothes nowadays."

"It's just so childish," Andromeda said. "I understand before you're of age, but…"

And she went on with her lecture about pride in the fashion of Wizards and wishing her daughter would take more stock in her appearance and just a subtle suggestion that a little effort might just go a long way for her "social life". Tonks just wandered with her, watching as Andromeda bustled around the kitchen. She put away food already pulled with a flick of her wand and pulled glasses out to pour some iced tea.

When Andromeda had gotten it all out of her system, they had a nice visit, Andromeda giving Tonks the latest news of their various neighbors and acquaintances. She was mentioning a new young man in the neighborhood when, thankfully, Tonks's dad showed up.

"Hey there, Dora," Ted said, giving her a side hug and kissing her temple. "What are you doing here?"

"I just finished my trials today," Tonks replied. "I thought I would take a weekend off."

"Good! It's nice to have you here, Bug. What's for dinner?"

"We're going to take Nymphadora out," Andromeda replied. "North Star. It's posh, so please don't wear anything stained."

Andromeda went on her tiptoes to give Ted a kiss, then walked towards their room to get ready herself.

"Did she already ask you to change?" Ted asked.

"You know it," Tonks replied. "I will. I brought something decent, at least."

"Your hair?"

Tonks closed her eyes concentrating. It went from a dark violet to a light pink, twisted up into a French twist. She opened her eyes, smirking at her dad. He was trying not to smile back.

"You be nice to your mum," he said in warning.

"Yeah, sure," Tonks said, hopping from the stool and heading towards the room to at least comply by what she wore.

Remus leaned back in his chair, looking around. He read the rejection letter to his application again. Forget a job, he couldn't even get someone to rent him a flat. He pulled out another letter from his back pocket—one he had read so many times in the week since he had received it, it was already worn out the creases of the folds.

Remus,

Dumbledore assured me he would get this to you as soon as possible. We had far too short a time in this reconciliation and we have, once again, been robbed of time. I heard that snivelling pile of grease got you booted from your post at Hogwarts. Knowing how difficult the narrow minded in the world make life for you, I wanted to offer you my family home. It's likely worn down and I'm not sure what you will find there, but if you need a place, you will remember where. My permission here should be plenty to get you in.

I will be in touch when it becomes a possibility. Until then, it is good to know I have a friend in this world again.

-S

Not enough to give himself away if the letter was to be found, which was a relief to Remus. Remus was tempted—legitimately tempted—to just hole up in the Black estate as Sirius had offered. But then what if people saw him come and go? His cousin Bellatrix was still good and locked up, and Andromeda had always been decent to Sirius and her friends. After all, like Sirius she had failed to become a Slytherin like the typical Black family member, ending up in Hufflepuff instead. But Narcissa was still out there, and he wouldn't put it passed the Malfoys to monitor the house on Grimmauld Place. At least he had an option if it came down to it.

Remus looked at the last sentence again. Yes, it was good to have a friend. Remus had long since thought those were lost. After the supposed report of Peter's death, he had lost the closest people in the world to him in one fell swoop. His dad had died and his mother... that was entirely too painful of a story to even think about for Remus. He didn't even have anyone left to talk to. He had to temper himself when he met Harry early that previous year, refrain from immediately pulling him aside and saying, "I was your dad's best friend!"

Of course, he wasn't. That would have just opened a conversation that a thirteen year old didn't need to have. It didn't matter in the end, of course. It all came to light and Harry got to meet his father's real best friend. The only friend Remus felt he had in the world now, even if he didn't get to commiserate his situation beside Sirius on a bar stool.

He sighed and folded up the other half of the sandwich. Dumbledore had been overly generous with his salary while at Hogwarts, but now he would have to make what was left stretch. Even if he found a job, it wasn't going to pay a decent amount and it was likely to end at some point. He walked towards the stairs.

"'Night, Remus," Madam Rosmerta called, wiping down the bar.

"Good night," he said, walking up the steps to the smallest room up near the attic. She was renting it to him for half price, which was more than most witches or wizards were willing to do. School (and as a result his job) had ended a month before, though, and he was no closer to a new prospect. He would need to be long gone by the time the next school year began, or face the raised questions from concerned parents who all knew what he was now.

Remus settled back on the bed, pulling up the wanted page of the Daily Prophet. With a wave of his wand, he waited while all the ones he had tried today were marked out. One, two, three… seven, eight… Remus sighed. There were still a few more to talk to tomorrow. Maybe He would have more luck then.

"Nymphadora Tonks," Miriam Lawlor called, holding her check list. She looked around.

"Just Tonks," she replied.

"I don't care," Lawlor replied dispassionately. "And… Orion Hancock."

"Yes ma'am, right here," Hancock replied. Standing and smoothing out his work robes as he moved towards the front. Tonks finally pulled her feet off the chair in front of her and followed suit.

"Report to Kingsley Shacklebolt," she said, handing them each a packet. "He will give you each your assignments."

"Thank you, ma'am," Hancock said with a tip of his head.

Tonks refrained from making faces behind him, trying, at least some, to follow Mad-Eye's advice. He would be leaving in a few weeks for Hogwarts. She would be too busy before then to see him. Especially since she had promised to go help her mother redecorate a few rooms. She definitely needed to find something that would fill her mum's time. Andromeda had mostly been a stay at home mother, but she didn't seem to know what to do with herself now. Even though it had been years since Tonks had been home full time. Tonks had begun to wonder what her mother's had done when she was at Hogwarts.

"Shacklebolt is the one in charge of the Black investigation," Hancock said, practically giddy.

"That and I'm sure about twenty other things," Tonks said.

"Yeah, probably," Hancock replied.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, weaving in and out of cubicles until they came to his. They could see Shacklebolt standing, talking with the Minister himself. Fudge was smaller than Tonks had always pictured him. Just as pudgy, but shorter.

"We have to show progress, Shacklebolt," Fudge said. "We almost had Beauxbaton pull out, citing the security issues. Really, I feel like they're all just trying to pull whatever they can, but between that and the World Cup soon…"

"We are doing all we can," Shacklebolt said. "It's tight, with everything else, but we have some new recruits who look promising. Ah, speaking of!"

Fudge turned to them. He had clearly been scowling. Tonks was reminded of a clown toy she had as a child which would smile, the edges of the mouth moving and twisting while the middle of the lips stayed flatlined. It was the same effect Fudge had.

"An honor sir," Hancock said, extending a hand. "Never expected such an exciting first day."

"My pleasure, my pleasure," Fudge said, taking his hand. "And another woman on the force."

"Wotcher, Minister," Tonks said. Hancock shot her a look as though what she had just done offended his very being. Which, Tonks thought, made the choice even better.

"This is Orion Hancock and Nympha—"

"Just Tonks," Tonks interrupted him. Shacklebolt gave her the same entertained glance he had during the trials. "I don't use my first name when I can help it. Fact is, I was first interested in being an auror when I learned they tend to call each other by their last names."

"Oh?" Fudge asked, giving a confused glance back at Shacklebolt. "I didn't know that was how some people chose their careers."

"Only the floundering ones," Tonks joked. His clown-grin faltered a moment.

"Hancock," Fudge said. "Your dad doesn't happen to work for the Department of Magical Beings, does he?"

"He does, sir," Hancock said.

"Good man," Fudge said approvingly. "Well, we hope to see great things from the two of you. I'll leave you to it, Shacklebolt."

With a tip of his hat he was out in a flurry of nods from Hancock and a handshake for both of them. Tonks turned back to Shacklebolt, anxious to find out who she would be working with in the department.

"We're glad to have you both with us," Shacklebolt started. "I will show you to your desks in a moment. You know that first year aurors are often paired with a veteran just to get their feet wet. However, we have taken in more aurors this year than ever before. As a result of your high scores on the trials, you will both be working … semi-independently."

"Semi?" Tonks asked. That sounded worse than being under the watchful eye of some old timer constantly trying to hand down their pearls of wisdom.

"The two of you will essentially be working together," Shacklebolt said. "You will have the same caseload and you will confer with me on the discoveries. However, we have placed your desks next to one another so that you will be able to compare notes and have at least a little of that support system from a colleague."

Tonks thought she was going to be sick. Hancock was nodding enthusiastically at this news, but she knew he must be just as disgusted as she was over this.

"What kind of cases?" Tonks asked. Maybe that would save it.

"I'm sure you are both aware of the Sirius Black investigation," Shacklebolt said. "It's the Ministry's top priority at the moment."

"Yes, sir," Hancock said.

"I need you both to have your eyes on all accusations," Shacklebolt said. "No matter how trivial or contrived they may seem, I want them investigated until they get to a null position. There will be other, smaller infractions that you will be asked to cover as we go along. I trust the two of you will be able to determine whether more than one person is necessary and go from there?"

"Yes, sir," Hancock said again. Tonks had a feeling she would hear those two words from his mouth often in the coming months.

"The last thing I have is for you to keep your calendars free from the twentieth until the twenty-fifth," Shacklebolt said.

"Wait, all day?" Tonks asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Yes, nights as well," Shacklebolt said. "We will need you on call."

"Are you having a laugh?" Tonks snapped. Hancock looked at her in shock. "Five days? Is this some kind of hazing to make the greenies be on call?"

Shacklebolt only smiled. "Alastor said you would keep us all on our toes," he replied. Tonks felt irritated that he would skirt the issue. "No, actually, it's department wide. It's for the World Cup."

Tonks blinked. "Oh."

"The members of the department were going to get free tickets and rotate when each member got to go watch for a bit, but if you don't like the arrangement I can always talk to Dawlish and—"

"No, that's alright," Tonks said. "Just… just making sure everything was above board and all that."

"Good," Shacklebolt said. "Alright, then, this way."

They followed Shacklebolt to a corner space where their desks were placed across from one another. Tonks and Hancock were instructed that they had an hour to get settled in before orientation would begin.

"Bloody hell, if all of that paperwork this morning wasn't orientation, what's that going to be like?" Tonks asked, more to herself than anyone else.

"Could you watch how you talk to people a bit?" Hancock asked, clearly irritated.

"What do you mean?"

"How about not telling the Minister of Magic that you only took the job so people would call you by your surname?" Hancock pointed out. Tonks rolled her eyes. "I'm just saying, if we're going to work together then what you do will reflect on me too, you know? Could you just… cut it a bit? We're not in the academy anymore and you don't have Moody here to play favorites."

Hancock turned to his side of the area, adjusting a few books, pulling out pictures and starting to make his space more homey. Tonks rolled her eyes at him again and turned to her own desk. No, they weren't in the academy anymore. And even though she would have liked to have Mad-Eye nearby, she could help but smile. There was a placard with the letters N. TONKS in bold white letter.

She was an auror. This was going to be great.