Well, he's laughing. That's a good sign….
It had been her biggest fear. What if Sirius Black hadn't seen the funny side? It had seemed like a nice icebreaker of a gift, a silly little joke, to get him a bottle of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion and quip about the wanted posters suggesting he needed it. It wasn't until she had found herself standing in the doorway of twelve Grimmauld Place with the potion bottle gripped in one hand and Professor Dumbledore's scrap of paper in the other that it had occurred to her that perhaps a man wrongly accused of mass murder might not necessarily see the funny side.
And her doubts had grown as Professor McGonagall had opened the door and ushered her quietly inside, one eyebrow quirking at the sight of her luminous green hair and gag gift. She had managed to smile at her stern former professor, but her eyes had already drifted to the grim, dark walls, the serpentine decoration, the wizened little house elf who eyeballed her with a mixture of suspicion and loathing. Maybe Sirius Black was innocent but that didn't mean he still had the sense of humour her mother had always talked of. Who could find the funny side of this?
She'd wanted to run. For a moment, it consumed her thoughts.
But Professor McGonagall was watching her, waiting. And no former student could ever face down that long, slow stare for long.
"This way, Nymphadora."
Tonks had winced but she hadn't corrected her. One did not correct Professor McGonagall.
And then there had been the meeting. Dumbledore had greeted her jovially, welcoming her to what she could only describe as the most eclectic secret society she could ever have imagined. She remembered Mad-Eye Moody as a prowling figure on the edges of her Auror training and though her joshing of him was met with a scowl, a glint in his deep-set true eye told her he didn't really mind. Bill Weasley was a better-known face, Head Boy during her tenure at Hogwarts and he had greeted her with that vague chumminess of someone with whom you are half familiar. She had met his parents briefly, Arthur, who she'd seen around the office for a while now but never really spoken to and Milly? Molly? Gods, she could be bad with names sometimes… Molly, it was Molly, and she and her husband were a nice, friendly couple who'd made her welcome before disappearing home to find out what their other children had been up to in their absence. They were apparently in the midst of packing for a summer move to Grimmauld Place but from Molly's words, it seemed that she had suspected her children were far more likely to be out back playing variations of two-a-side Quidditch.
Kingsley Shacklebolt she knew well enough from work but he too had not been able to linger long as a dreaded night shift loomed. Instead, he had ushered her over to the two men talking quietly by the fire, introduced her as a colleague and then, rather abruptly, Tonks had found herself face to face with the most notorious criminal in the wizarding world.
Her cousin. Sirius Black.
His greeting had been friendly. He'd noted their relationship with pleasure and made a joke about her hair. And so, emboldened, she had presented the Sleekeasy and sallied forth with the quip.
There had been a very long silence. Black had stared at the bottle. Tonks had stared at the floor.
Oh boy. Run away, run away, run away….
"You know, Sirius," a soft, hoarse voice had chimed in suddenly. "James always said that Padfoot would look good with a quiff."
Black had blinked. Tonks had stared, slightly confused and a tiny bit embarrassed at the companion she had all but forgotten was there. But then, with a suddenly dawning smile, her convict cousin had abruptly burst out laughing.
Okay. Maybe I don't need to run…But then again…
"And quite right too!" The grin was maniacal but in a reassuringly jovial way but the cheery enthusiastic slap of his hand against her shoulder sent her staggering. Fortunately the all too familiar arse-meets-floor scenario was averted when his quiet friend caught hold of her arm and allowed her to recapture her balance. She flashed him a quick, grateful smile before turning her attention back to the Ministry's most wanted.
"Sorry about the silence." Black – no, Sirius - was speaking again, his grin still firmly in place. "You surprised me, that's all. An old friend of mine always used to threaten me with this stuff when we were at school." The grin faded into a more genuine smile. "You know, cousin, I think we'll get on just fine. And if you'll excuse me…" He waved the bottle cheerfully. "I'm off to try this out."
And then he was gone, vanishing up the steps into the hallway with a broad smile plastered across his face, leaving a rather bemused Tonks to stare after him.
Ooookay…
"Don't worry." It was not until that gentle voice drifted forth once more that Tonks realised a hand still held her arm in a soft grasp. "He likes it. He just wasn't sure what to say to you."
Finally, Tonks allowed herself to take a proper look at the saviour of her dignity. He wasn't anything particularly remarkable, a slender man of medium height dressed in a set of robes that had clearly seen better days. His hair was light brown, but peppered with an edge of grey that belied the youth of his quiet smile. His brown eyes were kind.
No. Nothing remarkable there. But he seemed nice enough from what little she'd seen and she owed him a debt of gratitude for the preservation of her backside. Not to mention it would be nice to gain a little more understanding of her newfound cousin from this man who clearly knew him well. She smiled.
"Why wouldn't he know what to say?" she enquired curiously. "Does he always get tongue tied when meeting new people?"
The man chuckled. "Hardly. I've known Sirius since we went to school together and being tongue-tied has never been one of his problems. But he and your mother were very close as children and I think he was hoping to recapture some of that with you. I think he misses having someone from his family around."
Tonks permitted herself a snort, her eyes raking over the grim basement kitchen. "I don't think I'd miss this lot. I've met my charming aunties and I can't say it's an experience I'd care to repeat."
"You're right. I put that badly." The man's eyes drifted to the fire. "What I mean is – he misses have someone from his family who shares his views on them. He misses having someone who understands."
"Oh." This conversation was turning remarkably deep for a first acquaintance. "Well. If he wants someone to bash his family with, I can always play along."
The man smiled. "I'm sure that's all he needs. Thank you, Nymphadora."
"Tonks." The correction was out of her mouth with an almost instinctive brusqueness.
The man's brow furrowed. "Pardon?"
"It's Tonks." First meeting or not, this was a matter that simply had to be set in stone from the start. "Please don't call me Nymphadora, I hate that name. I love my mum dearly but my dad should had strapped her down and nicked the quill rather than let her near my birth certificate."
The man laughed. "Don't worry. After all, I've hardly been blessed with the most conventional of monikers either. But I can't say I've ever had as… emphatic a problem with it as you."
A sudden surge of embarrassment tumbled through Tonks, burning against her cheeks before she had a chance to fight it down. Kingsley had introduced them. He'd said the man's name. But she'd been so focussed on her cousin, on the infamous face from the wanted posters…
She hadn't been listening. But what was she supposed to say? How was she supposed to ask without being unspeakably rude?
Running away was starting to look good again.
Maybe if I hurry I can make the hall before he even notices I'm…
"Remus Lupin."
"Huh?" The sudden declaration almost made her jump.
"I'm Remus Lupin." The man – Remus Lupin apparently– was smiling with what she could only describe as wry amusement. "I didn't think you'd heard when Kingsley said it and that blush just told me I was right." He laughed as her blush deepened. "Don't worry about it. Meeting the infamous Sirius Black –especially when he's your cousin – is bound to be a little distracting."
"Sorry about that." Tonks smiled through her flushed cheeks but something at the back of her mind was prodding at her forcefully. Remus Lupin, Remus Lupin; why did that name ring a bell? Where had she heard it before? Had it been – yes, it had been at work sometime, or maybe while she was still training, which meant….
A surge of discomfort rippled through her. Names she had heard at work never meant anything good. And admittedly, this man – Remus – did seem to be a friend of a convicted – if innocent – Azkaban escapee. But how could it be that she'd know the name in a criminal context when he seemed so… so…
Nice.
Could criminals be nice? Could criminals be in the Order of the Phoenix?
Movement caught the corner of her eye. Wait… was that the greasy little fence Mundungus Fletcher?
That answered that question then.
"Are you all right?"
Tonks cursed. Yet again she'd allowed her attention to drift.
"Yeah…" She pondered a moment, before abruptly biting the bullet. "It's just… I'd swear I've heard your name somewhere before and I was just trying to…"
The words trailed away as she watched his eyes darken, his smile drop, his shoulders slump. He sighed.
"Yes," he murmured softly. "I wouldn't be surprised if you have. Do you happen to read the Daily Prophet?"
Something was stirring in the depths of Tonks' memory; she'd just finished her Auror training, passed her final exams – it was her first time in the offices of Magical Law Enforcement. As Scrimgeour had welcomed her, he'd been distracted by a furious witch in orange robes who'd stormed up to him brandishing the Daily Prophet and demanding that "that monster" Remus Lupin be arrested and sent to Azkaban for the reckless endangerment of her children's lives…
Yes, Remus Lupin. A teacher at Hogwarts. And he'd resigned from his post and left the school in disgrace because…
Because…
Werewolf.
Run. Gods, I want to run.
She was barely even aware of the slight, almost instinctive step backwards she took until she saw the weary, resigned sadness blossoming in his eyes. Her heart was pounding. A werewolf. A werewolf. How could he possibly be…? He was so nice, he was so quiet, he was so damned normal…
Maybe her work had corrupted her views. It was true that the majority of werewolves that she'd come into contact with had been in the course of her duties and they tended to be cruel, wild half feral troublemakers who disdained the authority and cursed the wizarding world that tried to shackle them. But she also knew, intellectually at least, that not every werewolf was like that. But still, what one knew compared to what one had seen…
Sharply, she clamped down on the unworthy feelings. Okay, so this wasn't exactly a situation that lay smack in the middle of her comfort zone. But he was a werewolf and he was nice which meant, obviously, that nice werewolves did exist. She'd met one. Therefore this was now something she knew. So why should she let it bother her?
It did. But she didn't have to let it. She didn't.
He caught your arm. He gave you advice on your cousin. He broke an awkward moment so you wouldn't be uncomfortable. He's a nice man. Just remember that.
Forcing the tension in her shoulders out knot by knot, she squeezed out a smile.
"So you're the infamous werewolf teacher?" she managed with as much faux joviality as she could muster. "Well, that's a disappointment. From what I've heard, you should be seven foot tall, covered in hair and picking your teeth with children's bones."
For a moment, she feared that yet again, she was going to have to face the prospect of turning and running from embarrassment and fear. But then his lips quirked, one eyebrow raised and he smiled at her.
"Well," he remarked dryly. "I'd hate to be a let down. I could probably transfigure some stilts and steal a bottle of Hair-Growth Potion but I'm not sure quite where we'll find children's bones at this time of night…"
"We could ask Mundungus Fletcher." Tonks gestured over her shoulder to where the grubby little man was attempting to foist what looked like dried doxy wings onto a decidedly sceptical Bill Weasley. "From what I've seen of his file, he'd probably be back in a few minutes with a whole pile of them, barely used…"
Remus laughed out loud but Tonks didn't miss the glimmer of relief that crossed his features at the sudden disappearance of tension. "I've known Dung for years," he admitted. "If we asked him for the bones of a kid…"
"…We'd get goats." They shared a grin at Tonks' anticipation of the joke. "Ah well. I guess that means we're stuck with your mild mannered alter ego."
"Many apologies." He offered up a half mocking bow. "I can attempt a growl, but it'd probably be a terrible disappointment."
It was Tonks' turn to laugh out loud. There, you see? Nothing to worry about. He's nice and he's got a good sense of fun. What does being a werewolf matter next to that?
You don't want to run. You don't need to run. See? You don't.
He's a nice werewolf…no. He's a nice man.
"You're a metamorphmagus, aren't you?" The question came a little out of the blue. "Kingsley mentioned it when he suggested recruiting you."
"Indeed I am." With a brief moment's concentration, Tonks flicked her hair from the eye-aching green she had entered with into a vivid shade of violet. "Dah-na!"
He chuckled. "Party trick?"
"More like a fashion statement really." Tonks stroked her short spikes cheerfully. "I like to be different."
"I'm starting to see that." There was a wicked twinkle in his eyes that would have earned a play-thump for someone Tonks had known better. "That must be a useful talent in your line of work."
Tonks felt a little twinge of discomfort. She had to admit that a part of her had not been entirely comfortable that Kingsley had chosen her over all of the members of the Auror office to invite into the Order. It was not because she did not believe in the cause – far, far from it – but because the little insecure part of her that had tormented her through Auror training had whispered that perhaps all they wanted her for was her ability to morph.
"It can be," she replied, trying to conceal the hints of her disquiet. "For undercover work and stuff. Though that's not really my favourite part of the job."
One smile. That was all it took. One smile and she knew that he'd seen right to the heart of her discomfort.
"I know. Kingsley also told us what an excellent investigator you are, not to mention a skilled dueller. I'm certain you'll be an asset to the Order in no time at all."
Nice, fun and sensitive. Werewolf or not, I think I'm going to like you, Remus Lupin…
She smiled broadly. "Well, we'll have to see. If nothing else, I can always supply escaped convicts with Sleekeasy."
Remus' lips twitched. "Speaking of which…"
"What do you think?"
Sirius had returned, his long mass of dark hair sleeked back into a shiny ponytail, leaving only the front portion of his locks to be pushed up into a makeshift quiff. He was grinning again.
Remus was shaking his head wryly. "James said Padfoot would look good with a quiff, mate. Not you."
Sirius pulled a face. "Yeah, I know, and I did try that, but it's a bugger trying to put this stuff on with just your paws. If you want that particular photo opportunity, you'll just have to help me out. What do you say, Nymphadora?"
Tonks exchanged a look with Remus, who smiled knowingly at her grimace. "I say call me Tonks."
Sirius' smile was also rather knowing. "You know, I always wondered whether that name would come back and bite Andromeda later in life. Looks like I was right. Come on then, Tonks." He grabbed a bottle of butterbeer from the table. "Come on up to the parlour with me and Remus and I'll thrash you at Exploding Snap. I have a sudden urge to burn a few holes in the mouldy carpets of my birthright. And afterwards... Well, have you ever wanted to see a big, black dog with a quiff?"
And so the evening had passed, with explosions, laughter and Sleekeasy smeared dog hairs all over the carpet. And afterwards, as Tonks had arrived back home at her flat, she'd smiled.
She'd been afraid of this meeting, she could admit that. The urge to run away from it had been so vast it had almost overwhelmed her. The prospect of meeting her infamous cousin and of being inducted into a secret society that was dedicated to fighting the most evil and vicious wizard alive, a society no less that her employers frowned on and would certainly fire her for being a part of had not been the easiest of prospects. But now she had spent the evening with a laughing convict smeared in hair potion and a very nice, fun and sensitive man, whose condition she was determined not to let matter, she couldn't understand what she'd ever been afraid of.
Sirius had made her laugh. And Remus…
Remus had made her feel valued. Worthy. Welcome.
She was glad to know them both. She liked them both. And she looked forward to knowing them better.
And from that moment on, Nymphadora Tonks knew that she need never worry about whether or not she would stand her ground.