Theater of the Mind

The Auror Department's version of the Knight Bus sped through the streets of Edinburgh. Tonks nodded awake. She could never sleep on these things. It didn't matter, though. In an hour or so, she'd be home, in her own bed, sleeping soundly. She got up and walked to the front of the bus. "Alright, Toby?"

"HOW many times do I have to tell—" the young driver began.

"I know, I know. Call you Jack," Tonks corrected herself. "Toby's not that bad of a name, you know."

"In my humble opinion, neither is Nymphadora."

"Your humble opinion is delusional."

Jack laughed. They had this fight every time he picked them up. "Should be there in about 15 minutes."

"Cheers, mate." She made her way back to her seat and gazed absently out the window. Checking her watch, she saw that it was already one in the morning. It had been an absolutely chaotic week. She thought back to the conversation she'd had with Kingsley a few days before. The one that had, unbeknownst to him, led the team to this point.


"Wotcher Kingsley," Tonks said, closing the office door behind her. "What did I do this time?"

Kingsley chuckled and shook his head. "Guilty conscience?"

"No…. Just figured I'd check. What's on your mind?"

"You're doing brilliantly, Tonks," he began. "I never thought I'd have half of the most wanted criminals in the Wizarding world dealt with this quickly. How are you feeling? Is the team ready to get back into the field?"

"I think so," she replied. "Price is still… he talked to me about a transfer yesterday. I know he wants to keep going with us—just asking me about transferring was killing him—but I don't know if he has it in him. Not after… after Maddox."

Kingsley nodded. "You have anyone in mind to replace him?"

"Maybe Kellar. Or Mitchell."

There was silence in the office for a long moment. An owl zoomed in, deposited a letter, and flew back out of the open window. Kingsley took a moment to look at the senders name before turning his attention back to Tonks. "And what about you?" he asked quietly.

"What about me?"

"Tonks…you can't stay in the field forever…."

"But I'm certainly not harboring any intentions to retire within the next year…or five."

"I'm not talking about retiring."

Tonks gave him a hard look. "Kingsley, I like it where I am. I love. This. Job. And…" she paused. She hadn't even admitted this next bit to Ginny. "And I'm not one hundred percent yet, I know. I still have nightmares about the castle. I can still hear Blakely and Maddox scream—I can still see their injuries. But we signed up for this. We knew the dangers. I know the dangers. And I'm ready to keep going."

Kingsley nodded. "I'm sure you are. But I think you should at least start thinking about the next stage of your career."

"Don't say that!" Tonks whinged. "It makes me sound old. I don't want to be cooped up behind a desk all day, Kingsley!"

"I wouldn't do that to you. I was thinking of the training centre, actually. You're the perfect type to train the next generation of Aurors, Tonks. You don't want to wait until you absolutely can't do the job anymore to leave the field. Because then you will end up stuck at a desk all day. You want to end at the top of your game—with options open to you."

"I know, Kingsley. But I don't consider this point the top of my game. When we bag the rest of these cretins—that's the top."

Kingsley huffed—the first time Tonks had ever heard him make a sound of annoyance. He'd obviously thought he'd have an easier time of talking her into this. "Give me one good reason not to force a transfer."

Tonks smiled.


Tonks yawned. She led the group through the quiet halls of the Ministry, and into one of the elevators.

"Shouldn't we be in the third one?" Mitchell asked quietly. He'd been fantastic on the trip, but a little hesitant to speak his mind. As the last to join the group, it was to be expected.

"We're not going downstairs just yet," Tonks explained, smiling. "Got to check in with the boss first." A few minutes later, they were in the administrative half of the Auror department, knocking on Kingsley's door. He called for them to enter, but Tonks held up a hand. "I'll go in first." She stuck her head inside the room.

"Tonks?" Kingsley asked. "What is it?"

"Remember how you said to give you one good reason not to transfer me?"

"Yes?"


The inn was dark and crowded. Most of the tables had been taken up already. Burly men sat playing cards or talking over mugs of different alcoholic substances that could probably coat roads. It was business as usual. The innkeeper nodded at Tonks, and filled a glass with a more tolerable drink. "Think it'll start 'round about eleven," he whispered, as she leaned in to pay. "Room seven."

Tonks nodded. "Any children in the place tonight?" she asked.

"No. Haven't seen any for the past two weeks. Strictly potions, it's been."

"Right, then. Thanks Billy." She took her drink to a table where Mitchell and Osherly (the two newest members), and a disguised Kent sat. "Everything's set," she said, sipping her ale. "We just have to wait."

The night passed quietly. They sat and played cards like the rest of the clientele, pausing for a bit of dinner, and restroom breaks. Every so often, one of the cards on the deck would flash green, signaling the entrance of a target. Finally, at exactly eleven o'clock, the cards in Tonks' hand turned orange for a split second. She glanced out of the corner of her eye as a man walked in.

He stopped at the bar and ordered a few drinks, then proceeded down the hall with them. He nudged the door to room seven open and entered.

Tonks stood up and stretched. There were still, of course, plenty of people milling about the lounge. This was a well know stop for traveling wizards, so the team couldn't hope for an empty fighting arena. "Back in a jiff," she told the other three. She went into the bathroom and locked the door. Quickly, she sent a Patronus to Tippin, Blakely and Macbeth, who were guarding the perimeter. She got an almost immediate response.

"Looks like this is going to be a longer meeting," came the voice from Macbeth's peacock. "Wait about half an hour. We'll light your cards if something starts to go down."

The next hour was one of the fastest Tonks had ever experienced. You didn't usually get entertainment on a stakeout/mission, but with the abundance of happy drunks in the building, there was a wealth of it that evening. After two more games of cards, a lively song and dance number by a few very sloshed wizards, and a little bit of fireside storytelling, it was time.

"Best be going, chaps," Tonks said, standing up.

The assembled group groaned as the four undercover Aurors said their goodbyes.

They quietly walked down the hall and put a spell on the entrance to it so no one else would be able to get through. Tonks dropped to her knees and put her wand slightly under the door. "Nebulus quiesco," she said. A green vapor shot from her wand, and she stood up and nodded to Mitchell.

With a grin, he kicked in the door.

It was pandemonium. Those closest to the door had gotten the full blast of Tonks' spell, but the others were fighting back. Blue, purple, green, and orange flew around the room as the two groups struggled to gain the upper hand. Potion bottles exploded right and left. Tonks levitated the bedside table and threw it into two of the smugglers. "Petrificus totalus!" she yelled, as one raised his wand again. She heard a scream to the right and looked up.

Kent had subdued a smuggler, but another had made a potions vial burst in his face. He sank to the ground, sending up blue sparks with his wand—the signal that he'd live, and they should keep fighting.

The other three Aurors burst in through the window at that moment, adding to the confusion. It was over in another three minutes, with the wreckage of the room smoldering around them. They were careful to clean up any spills that Macbeth said were particularly dangerous.

"Kent," Tonks said softly. She flinched when she rolled him over. His face was covered in thick, scaly welts. "He's unconscious. Signal the bus, and we'll take him to St. Mungo's before processing the vermin," she said, nodding at the pile of Petrified potions smugglers.

"Captain Tonks?" Mitchell said quietly.

"You're on the team now," she told him. "You can ditch the 'Captain'. What's up?"

"I think this is the bloke we're looking for…."


Tonks led Magnus Koch into the office, followed closely by the team. "Here you go."

Kingsley stared at her, openmouthed.

"It was Mitchell who found him," she explained. "We had a bit of a shoot out. Most of the potions were destroyed, and Osherly has the ones that weren't."

"Well done, all of you," Kingsley said brightly. "We'll make the morning Prophet with this. Take him down to lock up. We'll transfer him in the morning. And get some rest, you lot!"

The team left with the criminal (the rest were chained to the wall outside).

Tonks waited until they were down the hall before closing the office door. "I've been thinking about what you said. That stuff about leaving at the top."

"Yes?" Kingsley said slowly.

"I'll make you a deal. You let me finish out this mission—bring this last blighter in—and I'll transfer to the training unit. But I have to be a part of this. I want to be there when we catch Greyback."

Kingsley nodded. "You've got yourself a deal."