"Sit."
It was all the encouragement she needed, and Tonks collapsed onto the plushy contours of the expensive sofa, arms limp by her side and head resting on the back of the seat. She didn't quite care that her muddy combat boots and soiled clothes were a ghastly out-of-place addition to the general spotlessness of the high-end hotel suite, or that she ought to be at the hospital for a couple days more. There was so much to be done in so little time and she had hardly the energy to overcome the aching of her bones. An immense weariness descended upon her as one by one the memories of the past year resurfaced. Tonks let out a shaky breath. The woman who had given the command pursed her lips grimly but made no comment.
Her black pumps tapped against the hard tiled floor as she walked to the coffee table, upon which sat a steaming kettle and two tea cups. There was silence other than the noise of liquid being poured, and the sharp screech of glass rubbing against glass as the cup and saucer was pushed in her direction. Dora mustered the energy to lift her head. She was met by the solemn face of the woman who had brought her here, gazing intensely at Dora was an indiscernible look.
"Here," she said, voice softer.
She eyed the tea wearily. "Thanks."
The other woman nodded. Dora reached for the cup, and held it gingerly in her palm, letting the heat waft over her tired face. Earl Grey. Remus's favorite.
A different kind of pain tore through her being. Remus...Sirius...
She didn't dare continue the though.
"Whenever you're ready, Miss Tonks."
The woman sat back in the chair, gripping the arms. Her immaculate hair, twisted above her head, her clean, neat blue suite and her dolled face made her blend into the London crowd perfectly, but she was no Muggle. A quill and parchment hovered expectantly next to her head and her eyes shone with the fear, bitter acceptance and dark foreboding that Dora knew was reflected in her own eyes as well as the eyes of every witch and wizard who knew, had always known, deep in their hearts, that You-Know-Who was back.
War was upon them, and the world had finally accepted with dawning horror that it was inevitable, that it always had been inevitable.
"I'm ready," Tonks said grimly. A heavy silence followed as she closed her eyes and made herself recall every moment of plagued uncertainty and hopeless desolation, every minor victory and devastating loss of the last entire year, from the very first breath Scrimgeour had taken as he stood before the entire Auror Office last summer to address the issue of Cedric Diggory's death to the very last breath Sirius took as he disappeared behind the wretched veil and vanished before her very eyes.
She was finally ready to speak. It was high time the truth was told.
"Alright," she said, mouth dry, heart pounding, "It began a year and two weeks ago..."