I sat down before I fell down. Stumbling back to plop onto the barstool, my pretence of elegant sophistication was over. Scrimgeour knew. How? My morphing was flawless, and I had imitated my mother's deeper, calmer voice. There was only one way.

"Are you even married?" I asked.

"Shouldn't you have found that out before you began the assignment?"

I looked him straight in the eye and lied through my teeth. "No. My uncle screens clients very carefully."

"Not this time."

I turned and caught the barman's eye, pointing down at my glass. He smiled and brought me another Guinness. I drank half of it in one go. Setting it down with a thud, I said to my boss, "You're not getting your money back, so I hope you think it was well spent."

He made a huffing sound. "Oh, it was. It was." His gaze flickered over me. "I'm impressed with your abilities and amused by the guise you chose...and what it reveals."

I reached for my glass again. After a fortifying swallow, I asked flippantly, "You mean my legs?"

"Aside from that."

Cat and mouse—this must be his favourite game. I decided not play. "I figured you'd go for a woman who matched you. Sleek and classy. A lioness." I added, "You must know you're regarded as the king of the cubicle jungle."

Scrimgeour chuckled. "Yes. I even called Marsden in to autograph the cartoon before I informed him of the consequences should I feature in another one."

I looked at him enviously. "Bet you had a better threat than morphing into his ex-girlfriend."

A predatory smile flashed. "Yes, I did."

"Rufus!"

The Minister of Magic was walking toward us, smiling widely for the benefit of any potential reporters in the room, no doubt. I whispered, "Should I leave?"

A gleam appeared in tawny eyes. "No. I want you to distract Cornelius from conversing about matters more suitably discussed in private."

"Is that an order, sir?"

"A request."

Fudge had reached us. "I say, Rufus, it gave me quite a start to see you with such a lovely companion."

I asked, "Does he usually have ugly ones?"

The Minister laughed condescendingly. "No, no, my dear. I only meant that Rufus has a reputation for drinking alone." When his comment went un-remarked, Fudge changed the subject. "Have you seen the evening Prophet? There were several letters to editor about the cancellation of the Wolfsbane Program. I think you should investigate those people. They're sure to be Dark and—"

"D'you know you're much taller in person than you look in the papers?" I interrupted with a bright smile.

Fudge appeared pleased. "Really? Well, they do insist on taking my picture next to massive columns and such. I'm sure I look thinner as well."

I assured him, "Oh, you do. At least a stone."

The Minister's stocky body edged closer to mine. "What a pleasure to meet such a charming member of my constituency. Please, call me Cornelius."

He held out his hand. I placed mine in his clammy grip. "Lola."

"Are you an Auror, my dear?"

"A showgirl."

Fudge's oily smile became downright greasy. "Fascinating. Are you in a West End show?"

"I'd love to be, but I just moved back from across the pond. I worked at the Copacabana—have you heard of it?"

"No."

"It's the hottest spot north of Havana."

"Really."

"MmHmm…do you merengue? Cha-cha?"

Fudge winked. "I do a mean foxtrot."

I had been trying to wrest my hand from his podgy grip during our conversation and finally managed to tug it away. Looking at my boss, I asked, "Are you still coming back to my place for a merengue lesson? If you need to speak with the Minister instead, I'll understand."

Scrimgeour's lips twitched almost imperceptibly. He turned his kingly gaze on Fudge. "Is there something vital you need to impart, Cornelius?"

"No, no, by all means, go have your lesson." His wink-wink, nudge-nudge tone earned a frosty smile from the Head of Aurors.

"Very well. Goodnight."

I slid off the stool. "It was such an experience meeting you, Mr. Minister."

He beamed and then caught sight of a man in the back corner. "Lucius! My dear fellow!"

Scrimgeour and I walked toward the door while Fudge lumbered over to chat up Lucius Malfoy.

I muttered, "Ironic that he wants you to investigate people off the editorial page while he chats up a Dark wizard."

Once we were outside, the man I was not bold enough to call Rufus said, "Malfoy claimed to be under the Imperius Curse."

"Yeah…claimed."

He started walking. "You claimed to be a showgirl named Lola." Laughing softly, Scrimgeour asked, "How do you know an old Muggle song?"

"My Gran has all Barry Manilow's albums." I slanted a curious look. "How do you know an old Muggle song?"

"One of my mates at Hogwarts was Muggle-born. His mother played the music constantly during our visit one holiday."

"Oh." After strolling in silence for a minute, I asked, "Are we headed somewhere in particular?"

"No. I am merely waiting for you to ask why I set you up."

"And here I was, waiting for you to tell me."

He stopped walking. "While privately I find your manner amusing, make no mistake, I will not tolerate cheek in the work environment."

I wanted to shoot back you're the one who asked me to call you Rufus but replied levelly, "I will never be less than professional or respectful, sir."

He inclined his head in acknowledgment. "How long can you maintain a transformation?"

I shrugged. "Indefinitely, I suppose."

"I need fact, not supposition. Come by my office tomorrow morning at ten and show me you've kept your hair that way overnight. Then I will explain why I arranged this meeting."

"OK. I mean, yes, sir."

"'Sir' is not required outside the Ministry, Nymphadora."

I took a step back to prepare to Apparate. "All right, and I'm Tonks, just Tonks, sir."

.

Morty heard me clattering up the stairs in my rush to change and meet Remus. He opened his door when I passed and followed me into the corridor. "I like the hair. Very eighties."

"This is curly. It isn't big hair!"

"If you say so."

I tossed my blonde locks and started to walk on.

"How'd it go?"

"He wasn't a cheat."

My uncle grinned. "Easy money, eh?"

Sure, aside from the heart attack I'd almost had. I nodded. "I'll turn in the paperwork tomorrow afternoon."

"Why not tonight?"

"I have plans."

A look of discomfort crossed his features. Clearing his throat, Morty asked gruffly, "You...uh...you're protecting yourself, aren't you?"

I kept a straight face. "Yeah, I keep my wand ready at all times."

"I meant a different kind of protection."

I grinned before giving Morty a smacking kiss on the cheek. "Yes, Daddy."

A goofy smile spread across his face. "Daddy...how did you know it was official?"

I laughed and hugged him. "I didn't, but I'm so happy for you!"

"Keep it down," he said with a wide smile. "Lisa's sleeping."

"Aw, aren't you sweet."

"You still don't get a pay rise."

I snapped my fingers. "Dragon dung. Maybe when you get married."

His expression turned panicked. "Married?"

I felt my eyes narrow into my mother's gimlet stare. "Are you telling me you don't want to marry the mother of your child?"

Morty said, "No, I just don't want to splash out for a big wedding!"

I placed my hands on his shoulders. "Uncle, the bride's family usually pays."

His eyes brightened and then dimmed. "Her folks teach English as a second language. They don't make much."

"Then marry at the Ministry and spend your money on what's important—the honeymoon and the baby!"

"Honeymoon? Who can afford to take off work for a honeymoon?"

I stepped back before I shook him until his teeth rattled. "You can! Cami is more than capable of managing the office, and I'll help whenever she needs it."

"Fine. I'll run it by Lisa." He made to return to his flat.

I grabbed his arm. "What? Now? She's sleeping!"

Morty smiled roguishly. "She doesn't mind if I wake her."

"She will if you run a marriage proposal by her like it's another item on the Blue Moon agenda, for Merlin's sake!" I sighed heavily. "Get a ring, take her to dinner someplace romantic and propose. After she says yes is the time to talk about the specifics, not before!"

Still shaking my head over Morty when I entered my flat, I crossed to the bedroom and took a hard look in the mirror. No, the volume of my hair was natural. It wasn't teased up at the crown like I was trying to add millimetres in height. Relieved, I changed into a tee and denims. Before I left, I grabbed my Auror robes. The lower levels of the Ministry were chilly at night.

.

I didn't see Remus when I stepped into the torch-lit corridor leading to the Department of Mysteries. We were both using Disillusionment Charms to conceal ourselves. Although no security patrolled Level Nine due to the wards on the black door at the far end, we had to remain wary and on guard against the agents of You-Know-Who.

The lack of windows gave the narrow space a claustrophobic charm. I whispered, "Remus?"

"Here."

His voice came from the ground near the door. He must be sitting down. I walked over and then crawled to find him. My outstretched hand touched his jaw. I traced his face with my fingertips.

"Have you made a positive identification, miss?"

I rubbed the tip of my index finger along the inside of his bottom lip. "There's only way to truly confirm your identity, sir."

I leaned over and kissed him. Since I couldn't see Remus, I let my fingers lead the way. When my mouth touched his, I smiled. "Lips this scrummy belong to only one man. My man."

"Nymphadora," he murmured, when I kissed him lingeringly instead of prudently drawing back.

"I know, I know, the motto is 'constant vigilance,' not constant snogging," I whispered after another kiss. "Can't we alter it to intermittent snogging to keep us awake?"

He had wonderful, husky chuckle. "Tell me about your enquiry. I'm sure envisioning it will keep my eyes opened wide for the rest of the night."

I groped about, found his hand, and entwined my fingers with his. "Maybe it was routine and uneventful."

Remus's fingers tightened. "And maybe a white rabbit will come hopping out of that door to tell us, 'Oh my ears and whiskers, how late it's getting!'"

"Alice's Adventures in Wonderland! Did you read that old book in Muggle Studies too?"

"Yes. It was a new book then."

I elbowed him in the side. "Stop it! You'd be old as Dumbledore." I said, "Actually, I don't know where to begin."

"Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end: then stop."

"Who said that? The Queen?"

"The King."

"Hmmm, well..." I drew in a deep breath. "The bloke I did the enquiry on turned out to be Rufus Scrimgeour, and he isn't a cheat, and might not even be married, he didn't say, but he did admit he set me up to gauge my abilities, so I'm to go to his office tomorrow, with my same hairdo, and he'll explain everything then."

There was a moment of silence. "What did you talk about if it wasn't work?"

I don't know why I looked sideways. There was nothing to see. Habit, I guess. "Richard II. I think Scrimgeour sees Fudge as King Richard and himself as Henry V."

"Henry IV."

I snorted. "And purebloods think they keep names in the family."

"Yes...Scrimgeour bears himself quite regally."

"And he can say 'off with her career' if not 'off with her head'!"

Remus's tone sharpened. "Did you feel threatened?"

"No. I think he wants to take advantage of my morphing abilities."

There was a pause. "As long as he doesn't take advantage of my favourite Metamorphmagus."

I burst out laughing, clapping a hand over my mouth to stifle the sound. When I could speak without giggling, I said, "Baby, he's over twice my age!" I leaned sideways to rest my head on his shoulder. "I'm flattered you think I'm irresistible, though."

I felt his lips brush my hair. "In certain matters, age is only a number."

"Hmmm…then those little old ladies who simper when you get a box off the top shelf for them at the market better watch it. If I see any of them eyeing your arse…lookout, Granny!"

Remus chuckled and brought the topic back on track. "Is there anything else I should know?"

"Yeah. Fudge came over and asked that everyone who wrote a letter to the editor about the cancellation of the Wolfsbane Program be investigated as probable Dark wizards."

The chuckle I heard was ironic. "What will you do if you have to investigate me?"

That must mean he wrote a letter to the editor. I said, "I'd interview you privately at your place of residence. Start with a strip search, looking for a Dark Mark or an incriminating tattoo."

Remus's body began to shake. "Incriminating tattoo?"

I pressed my lips together before I could say matter-of-fact, "Snakes, skulls, Death Head masks, writing or runes saying 'Die Muggles, Die' or 'Property of Voldemort'. The list is extensive."

Instead of chuckling, Remus murmured, "What if nothing comes up in your search?"

"I'd be very disappointed," I whispered, "And have to switch to more conventional methods to attain my objective."

"Such as?"

I leaned over to breath in his ear. "I'd move in close, inside your personal space, and grind you down until you said what I wanted to hear."

"Yes?"

My lips found his earlobe. I tugged it gently with my teeth. "That's a start."

Remus lifted my hand and kissed it. "Thank you for providing a multitude of mental images to keep me…alert…."

I kept hold of his hand while sitting with my back against the wall. My pulse was racing and my cheeks felt hot. I felt quite alert myself. I sighed. "My pleasure."

.

After the night passed without an attempt to break into the Department of Mysteries, we slipped out of the Ministry and Apparated to Grimmauld Place. Molly was already up, bustling around the kitchen in a purple dressing gown. The quilted fabric looked warm. I smiled around a yawn. "You look h-h-huggable."

She lowered her wand and hugged me briefly before handing me a mug of coffee. "Thank you, dear."

I drank a much needed sip of liquid caffeine and told Arthur. "And you look dashing in your bomber jacket. Got a motorbike stashed somewhere to take Molly for a spin?"

He grinned and looked toward his wife. "Shall I enchant a motorbike Mollyw—what do you say?"

"I say be content with the car, because you shall never entice me onto the back of a motorbike."

I sat near Sirius, who whispered. "Bet he's been content in the backseat of that motorcar."

"What was that?" Molly demanded.

I shook my head.

Sirius shrugged. "Nothing."

Molly turned a kipper and marched over to take a seat, holding her wand at a threatening angle. She swished it in emphasis. "I have seven children, eyes in the back of my head, and ears that prick at the sound of whispers, so if you have something to say, say it!"

I yawned so widely I heard my jaw pop.

"Say it, don't spray it!" My irrepressible cousin snickered.

I stuck out my tongue.

Sirius crossed his eyes.

Remus and Arthur chuckled.

The door creaked open.

Molly was on her feet instantly, ushering Harry in.

I greeted him and explained my constant yawning with, "I've been up all night." The boy glanced at my hair with a doing what expression on his face.

My brain was running at half speed, so when Remus reminded me to tell Harry to be wary of my boss by asking what I had been saying about Scrimgeour, it took a second for me to react. "Oh…yeah…."

When Arthur and Harry finished breakfast and left, Sirius barked with laughter. "Funny questions? That was the best you could come up with? He's been asking you and Kingsley funny questions?"

I pushed my chair back. "Oh, shut up!"

Remus caught up with me at the kitchen door. "Should you go to work sleep deprived?"

I shrugged off my bad mood. "I'll let Jerry take the lead. He can take notes too. I'll just be there to blend into the furniture."

"I meant…for the meeting."

I blinked. "I'll pop into an apothecary and grab a Wake-Up Potion. I don't have to be at work for a couple of hours, so I can take a nap too."

"All right."

I kissed Remus goodbye and waved him back to the table. "Go finish breakfast. I'll see myself out."

.

Upstairs, I heard a noise that routed my steps away from the front door and toward the drawing room. It was a hitching sound, someone trying not to make noise while they cried.

I thought it might be Hermione, but it was Ginny I saw huddled on a settee. In her fuzzy dressing gown and slippers, she looked like a little girl. Her misery was anything but childish, however. Kids cry for themselves. She was crying for Harry—the kind of tears that wrack the body in silent sobs.

"Hey, Ginny, how do you like my hair?"

Brown eyes stared at me in apprehension, as though fearing I'd start grilling her about what was wrong. I didn't. That was a Mum reaction. I wanted to be a friend.

I turned my head to the left and right. "Nice work, huh?"

"It reminds me of Madam Rosmerta."

I went to look at myself in the mirror over the mantel. Concentrating, I shifted my features to match the proprietor of the Three Broomsticks. With an exaggerated roll of my hips, I sashayed toward the settee.

Ginny's lips tilted up. "If you want to see Ron turn red as his hair, do that at the table sometime."

"Got a crush on her, does he?"

She smiled a little. "It's Mum's fault, going on about 'Scarlet Women.' Makes boys like Ronald that much more interested."

I morphed my face back to normal. "I think hormones would guarantee interest, whether or not your Mum said a word."

Ginny's lips turned down again. "Stupid boys. If a girl is beautiful and popular, they don't care if she's nice, or funny, or likes the same things they do. They're happy just to stare, like their brains dripped out of their heads along with their drool."

"So those occasional puddles round school weren't from Peeves balancing buckets of water over doorways? They were liquefied brains?" I said thoughtfully, "You know, that explains so much."

A watery giggle sounded. "You're silly."

"Not as much as I'm going to be." I pulled Ginny to her feet. "I've got a couple of hours before I have to get ready for work. Let's go up to the attic and play dress-up."

"Haven't you been on night duty with Remus?" She looked at me guiltily. "I overhear things."

I yawned. "No worries. If I tried to take a nap, I'd oversleep."

Ginny said, "Mum's bound to have a Wake-Up Potion in her room. I could fetch it if you'd like."

I hooked my arm through hers and steered her to the door. "We'll get it on the way."

.

.

Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl...with yellow feathers in her hair and a dress cut down to there…. I hadn't planned on using Copacabana until Fudge asked if Lola was an Auror, and it just spilled out! I hope those of you eclectic enough to have heard the song before got a chuckle from it and from the Lewis Carroll quotes too. :D.