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The next day the entire house was rousted from bed by Molly Weasley, who was bent on continuing the chore of cleaning the house. Yawning Order members wended their way towards the kitchen in various degrees of dress. Wizard dressing gowns were often particularly shabby affairs, with baroque patterns and faded colors. Arthur Weasley sported such a horrendously well-loved specimen, complete with faded yellow fringe and capering hippogryphs, that Hermione couldn't help choking on her toast at breakfast. As Ron was helpfully, and painfully, pounding her on the back, Tonks sauntered in, cocked a dark eyebrow at the spluttering witch, and accepted a steaming mug of strong tea from Molly. Hermione took a large swallow of her pumpkin juice, noting out of the corner of her eye that Tonks was not sporting a dressing gown like the majority of the older Order members save Mad-Eye, who like always was fully dressed, right down to his muddy cloak and boots. Instead Tonks was wearing an oversized long-sleeved thermal and a pair of men's fuzzy PJ pants; her pink hair was sleep-tousled and at the moment barely three inches long.
"Mornin'" Tonks said with her usual vigor, sitting down at the table next to Ron, who had gone back to shoveling bacon and eggs into his mouth with utter abandon.
Hermione smiled over Ron's head "Morning Tonks. Did you sleep well?" The older witch gratefully accepted her own plate from Molly, piled high with breakfast fare, and turned back to Hermione.
"Oh yeah, slept great. Not nearly enough though, eh Molly?" Tonks teased, inciting a motherly nudge from Mrs. Weasley as she passed by on the way to Arthur's empty tea mug.
"Getting you lot moving in the morning is nothing compared to Fred and George when they were younger. Couldn't move them from their beds with a Locomotor spell." Molly intoned, once again bustling back towards the kitchen. According to Arthur Weasley, when Molly was fretting she became the quintessential mother hen, firmly taking everyone in sight under her wing and feeding them. With force if necessary. "It's best if you just let her get on with it," Arthur had whispered to her a few nights ago, after Molly had stomped through the quiet study and magicked all the disordered and dusty books back onto their shelves with a flick of her wand. The wind from the volumes flying past her and Arthurs heads had been so intense that it took minutes for Hermione to reorganize her hair. When she had resettled herself in the armchair, she found a steaming cup of tea on the side table, with one of her favorite biscuits. Mother hen indeed.
As Molly was magicking the dishes clean-and fending off Tonks' offer to help-, Hermione, Ron, and Harry got up from the table to attend to a pixie nest that Sirius had found in the basement the day before.
"Oh, hey Hermione" Tonks said around a final mouthful of toast, grabbing for the younger witch's sleeve and nearly tripping over her own feet, "you have my cloak in your room, yeah?"
Hermione paused, keenly aware of the interested looks directed at her from Harry and Ron. She could practically feel the questions building pressure in their heads. She turned to face Tonks' heady smile, "Yeah, it's at the end of my bed, I forgot to give it back to you last night. You want me to bring it to you?" Hermione tried to sound matter-of-fact, the noise level in the room had dropped suddenly.
"Nah, I'll just grab it, you got pixies to deal with," Tonks said, poking her shoulder mischievously.
Hermione smiled back, and turned, purposefully walking between Harry and Ron to break their identical expressions of confusion.
"Since when do you hang out with Tonks? Harry asked as they clambered down the stairs to the basement.
Ron reached the bottom of the stairs and turned to face Hermione, who was still maintaining a blank face. "She's kind of, you know, a bit odd," Ron said, earning a glare from Hermione, who stalked off into the shadows of the basement. Ron looked to Harry, flabbergasted. "It's the animal noses, is all."
Hermione continued to say nothing.