The Birthday Party, or, How It All Began

She'd noticed him lurking against the wall by the food table as though he hoped the horrible pattern would swallow him up, and thought he looked interesting. But when Toby tugged her off to dance inappropriately to the posh orchestral music, she was in her element and forgot all about him.


Remus levitated a bottle of wine from the long table, narrowly missing a gaggle of floating fairies whose giggles sounded like tiny bells, and re-filled his glass

Remus levitated a bottle of wine from the long table, narrowly missing a gaggle of floating fairies whose giggles clattered like tiny bells, and re-filled his glass. Arthur Weasley next to him gave an impressed whistle and complimented the voiceless, wandless spell and Remus blushed and refused the compliment, filling Arthur's glass as well as his own, but he couldn't stop the smile that crept up from a warm place inside him.

He was glad he'd come to Alastor Moody's sixtieth birthday party. Initial reluctance, due to his infrequent attendance at parties since he'd lost his life-of-the-party mates whom he could disappear behind if necessary, gave way to very pleasant surprise that a large number of the guests were, in fact, pleased to see him. He'd started off in the corner of the room, his head ducked so that he could appraise the guests under the cover of the hair that fell in his face. But he'd barely taken a glance when a beaming witch who introduced herself as Vera Diggory came bubbling over and shook his hand, saying she remembered him from their school days and how nice it was to see him out and about.

Several minutes into conversation he had begun to recognise her, realising that Diggory was her husband's name and she'd been an enthusiastic Hufflepuff in his year, though life had taken its toll on the girl he remembered as much as it had on the reckless Maurauder he used to be (though, like him, the younger version of herself was still there, shining through the creases age had etched around her mouth and eyes). It was difficult to get a word in, although Remus was glad not to try, as Mrs Diggory expressed her dismay that his tenure at Hogwarts had ended in such bad taste,

"I was terribly shocked when I read the Prophet's expose. Vultures, those reporters! I didn't believe a word of it. My Cedric raved about you in his letters, and my husband, Amos, works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and is friendly with a chap in Werewolf Support Services who insists that your condition shouldn't make one jot of a difference to how you do your job. I expect that Harry Potter's making up a story, saying you nearly attacked him so he can look like a hero again. It's a shame he was exposed to fame at such a young age, you know, they get addicted, can't help themselves. My Cedric is modest to a fault, and from what he tells me, you were the best thing to happen to that school in a long time."

Remus was scarlet with embarrassment and anger and excused himself awkwardly to go and get a drink. He hated to hear her make such awful assumptions about Harry, but he couldn't bring himself to cause a scene here by correcting her. He also felt ashamed that until she'd mentioned Harry he'd been guiltily enjoying her misplaced confidence.

But Mrs Diggory wasn't the only one. No sooner had he reached the drinks table none other than Madam Griselda Marchbanks had approached him, tiny and formidable in an ornately lacy black dress, and surprisingly offered a similar sentiment. Her leathery face cracked into a thousand lines when she smiled sympathetically, saying she had Goblin friends and understood far too well the injustice of prejudice. He was too polite to run away from her, so Remus mumbled a thank you to his shoes.

Madam Marchbanks was followed by no fewer than seven consecutive witches and wizards, who seemed not only to be perfectly okay with the fact that he was a werewolf who had taken a teaching position with children, three of whom he had transformed in the presence of and nearly bitten, but were also eager to start friendly conversation and expressed their delight that he'd seen fit to begin attending social gatherings again.

Remus put it largely down to Alastor Moody's taste in decent, if not slightly batty, acquaintances, rather than any real reflection on his character, but was overwhelming grateful nonetheless, and was having an unexpectedly good evening. Of course there were an equal, if not greater, number of people who shot him filthy looks and muttered scournfully amongst themselves. But it was to be expected since the Ministry crowd made up a large part of those gathered to celebrate Moody's birthday. The only reason he'd agreed to come, in spite of the expectations which had already been surpassed, was that Moody had contacted him by owl out of the blue.

It had been a few weeks into the summer and he'd been removing a Bogart from the cupboard in the narrow hallway of his parent's old house (in which he had taken up residence since leaving Hogwarts, with Sirius in his old bedroom). A short note, disguised as an advertisement for a seasonal furniture sale, appeared with a miniature owl who shot through the letterbox and skidded to a halt on the doormat. He hadn't seen Moody since the last official meeting of the Order of the Phoenix a few weeks after Harry survived, so he was more than a little surprised to find Moody's distinctive scrawl on the parchment.

The note said (Remus read with surprise) that Moody had agreed to fill the position Remus had vacated as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts. It went on to say that, having heard what a smashing success Remus made of the job before he "let his vigilance slip and dashed it all up" for himself, Moody was keen to meet with him to "get the debrief". Moody's note informed him of the birthday party and said not only would he be honoured to have him in attendance, it would provide the perfect opportunity to arrange a meeting in person, rather than entrusting the information to the "unsafe" owl-post . Touched by the invitation and unable to refuse a request for help, Remus had RSVP-ed with Moody's owl, who gave a ruffle of his feathers before he took off through the letterbox which changed his appearance from tawny brown to snowy white. Remus was almost sure he heard the owl hoot "constant vigilance".

Having made a not-completely-unpleasant round of the room, Remus had wished a very happy birthday to an inebriated Moody who hiccoughed into his hip-flask and slurred,

"Next Tuesday, lad. I'll send a discreet owl with encoded directions."

Amused and oddly delighted at being called "lad", Remus had simply nodded in response to what was more of an order than a question anyway.

He now found himself back near the corner he started in, lurking by the wine table, half in conversation with Arthur. Despite the unexpected willingness of several kind people to engage in lengthly conversation with him, he couldn't help feeling awkward and pulled at the hole in his best dress robes with hands that felt too big for his body.

It was about then that he saw her. He initially thought her shock of pink hair bobbing amongst the crowd of ordinary was a trick of the wine. When the crowd parted in just right place as she turned slightly to talk over her shoulder and he saw her face (delicate pointed chin with flushed cheeks made it a heart shape and dark eyes danced beneath glittering eye make-up with impossible brightness and mischief), he wondered that someone hadn't enlarged one of the fairies and taken her on to the dance floor. But further watching revealed she was with a crowd of Aurors, jostling and laughing in a way that indicated she was one of them, and was wearing heavy soldier-like boots under her floaty dress. He had never seen anything like her before.

He felt a prod on his arm, and tore himself away from her to discover that Arthur had asked him his opinion on the Muggle Television three times. He apologised and resumed the conversation, facing away from the room so that she wouldn't distract him again. He was half way through answering when a pointy elbow jabbed into his back, sloshing his wine all down his front.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" a horrified voice cried. Unlike her appearance, there was nothing pixieish about her voice but, with an odd swooping sensation, he knew before he turned around that it was her.

"I was only trying to reach a vol-au-vent, can't take me anywhere" small, slightly shaking hands were attempting to mop up the wine on his jumper with a napkin, "I won't bother trying a cleaning spell for your own good. I really am so…"

"It's okay," he held her wrists to still her frantic movement. She quirked her head at him for a second (in which he wondered whether her dark eyes were one colour in particular or every colour), and then a wide grin lit her face so suddenly he almost twitched in alarm.

Alastor Moody, intent on the buffet, spotted them on his way past.

"Ah" he grunted, swaying slightly as he approached, "Remus, Arthur, this is Nymphadora Tonks. My clumsy little champion." Remus watched her eyes screw up in a pained expression when he said her name. He couldn't understand why; it was a mischievous, beautiful name and suited her perfectly. He felt it on his tongue, but kept quiet as Moody grunted again. He threw an arm around her and ruffled her spiky hair,

"She's an Auror; just passed last week. Top of the class, mentored her myself. First new blood in three years," he surveyed Nymphadora Tonks with a slightly disturbing almost fatherly pride. Remus offered his congratulations along with Arthur, and a smile. He was still holding her wrists.

"Nymphadora," she winced comically again,

"This is Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office. I expect you'll have seen him around the Ministry."

She smiled at Arthur who grinned back.

"And this," he grunted again, "is Remus Lupin, your textbook quietly brilliant wizard. My predecessor in the Defence job at Hogwarts, who I'm told, far too often, was the best Professor the school's ever had."