Another reminder that everything harry potter belongs to JKR. Also, I recommend reading the original book chapters as you read this fic because I've tried to make the story tie in as harmoniously as possible. This chapter corresponds to chapter 14 of Order of the Phoenix. Oh and one more thing – the length of this fic isn't getting you guys down is it? Or the dragged0out nature of Remus and Tonk's relationship? It will be worth it I swear – I've got some great stuff planned.

54 The Ball Part One

The first week of September had been a rather eventful one. Dumbledore had been forced by the Ministry of Magic to allow that toad of a woman Delores Umbridge to teach defence against the dark arts. Sirius said he wished he had gotten a picture of my face when I heard about this: he would have sent it to Apicius' Wizarding Dictionary to put next to their definition of 'aghast'. Dumbledore also had to hire Professor Grubbly-Plank to teach Care of Magical Creatures as Hagrid had still not returned from his mission contacting the Giants; something the Order was very worried about. We had received no word from him, and no-one had heard anything about the giants through the grape-vine. But, as Moody had morbidly pointed out, "if he's been killed we'd know". In that same week, the Order received more bad news: On the night Avery was transported from Azkaban to one of the gaol cells in the Ministry, Sturgis was caught in the department of mysteries. The Order held an emergency meeting the very next day where Tonks reported the events of that night to us. She looked nervous and contrite as she gave her report, which was strange but quite sweet, because it really was in no way her fault. Only a selection of the Order were present, Moody, Snape, Kingsley, Emmeline, Arthur, Bill, Dumbledore of course, and a few others; the higher ranking members, in other words. We were all sat around the kitchen table. It was quite late, and the oil lamps in the Black kitchen were not terribly efficient illuminators; combine that with the smoke from Moody and Kingsley's pipes, and the result was a very gloomy atmosphere, which surely didn't help alleviate Tonk's nerves.

"Avery managed to dupe the hit wizards guarding him. I can't think how because he didn't have a wand." She had said.

"It could have been some kind of dark magic." Dedalus Diggle put forward.

"Or maybe he had help." Suggested Sirius, "I mean we know the Ministry has taken bribes from snakes like Lucius Malfoy, whose to say the corruption ends there."

There was a low hum of agreement.

"The hit wizards eventually found him in the department of mysteries," Tonks continued, "but he had been missing for at least twenty minutes. No-one has any idea what he was doing in that time."

"Do you think he was after the prophecy?" Bill asked.

"I don't know. Maybe. Probably – I mean, you-know-who knows about it doesn't he?" Tonks looked towards Dumbledore.

"Yes. I'm afraid he does." Dumbledore confirmed.

"Yeah so, presumably his Death Eaters know about it too. And Avery wasn't trying to escape, he would have headed to the fireplaces in the atrium if that were the case." Continued Tonks. She paused, took a deep breath, and brushed some of her bright pink hair behind a numerously pierced ear. "When they found Sturgis he was trying to get into the hall of prophecy, so my theory is: Avery was trying to get at the prophecy and Sturgis fought with him, and ended up locked out of the hall."

"That seems very plausible, Tonks." Dumbledore remarked. "But it doesn't account for the full twenty minutes: if Avery was unarmed, then Sturgis would surely have been able to subdue him quite quickly."

"Unless, again, he had inside help." Emmeline contributed, echoing Sirius.

"Perhaps it would be wise to further scrutinise ministry workers." Kingsley suggested.

Dumbledore nodded, "I think that is a good idea. But if we suppose Avery had an accomplice, then perhaps we can assume that Sturgis was quickly overpowered – in which case we still have nearly twenty minutes unaccounted for."

"He could have been laying traps." Dedalus Diggle suggested, "for us."

"We conducted a very thorough search of the department of mysteries after Avery was caught – we didn't find any evidence of curses of hexes." Said Kingsley.

"Maybe he was sending a message." I suggested quietly, and the room turned to look at me. "He could have learnt a lot in twenty minutes about the layout of the department, the personal, all of which would be of interest to Voldemort."

"How could he get a message out though? Not with an owl – that would have been noticed..." Said Tonks.

"Perhaps Death Eaters have a special way of communicating." Said Sirius. "We should ask our resident expert." Sirius turned to Snape with a dark mocking smile.

"I do not know how Avery could have communicated with the Dark Lord." Snape said, scowling at Sirius with all the venom he could muster. "He can use the Dark Mark Death Eaters have tattooed on their arm to summon them to his side – but that is all. But there are fireplaces in the offices of the department of mysteries – perhaps Avery simply used one of those."

"Why couldn't he have escaped through one of them?" Emmeline said.

"Only the fireplaces in the atrium are enabled for travel." Answered Arthur, "You can talk to someone through office fireplaces, but you can't travel through them."

"We'll have to interrogate Avery." Kingsley said.

"What will happen to Sturgis?" Emmeline then asked concerned for our friend.

"He'll be tried next week." Kingsley said. "He's being charged with attempting to break in, which at most could get him six months in Azkaban."

"Is there nothing we can do to get him off?" Emmeline asked Kingsley.

"I'm afraid not. Not without exposing ourselves." Kingsley replied.

"I apparated to the ministry as soon as I had heard that Avery had done a runner. If I just got there sooner – I might have given Sturgis a chance to get out. I'm really sorry." Tonks said.

"Tonks you couldn't have done anything more than you did." Dumbledore assured. "It is unfortunate, but Sturgis was aware of the risks when he joined the Order."

"I feel so bad for him though." Tonks confessed quietly, and I wished she was sitting closer to me so that I could have held her hand or something – anything to take that look of sadness from her face.

"I know, poor bugger." Said Sirius with a drawn look on his face. "At least it will only be for six months."

Most of us turned to Sirius with sympathy in our eyes. Snape of course had to buck the trend: he sneered at Sirius and said: "You make yourself sound like a martyr Black – we all know you ended up in Azkaban through your own stupidity: had you not been to hell bent on killing Pettigrew you probably would never have ended up there."

Sirius' face became rigid with fury and he balled his hands into fists so tight I'm sure he was cutting his own palm with his nails. He said nothing however, with was either because he was desperately trying to be the bigger person or because, short of hexing Snape to oblivion, there simply was no way to express how unbelievably angry he was.

"Gentlemen, please, don't waste Order time with this nonsense!" Moody gruffly exclaimed forcing Snape to turn his burning eyes away from his nemesis. Sirius glanced in my direction and I gave him a consoling look, then Sirius looked towards Tonks whose method of consolation consisted of silently calling Snape a very rude name then giving Snape the finger when Moody wasn't looking. Needless to say, Tonks' method was far more effective than my own.

"As a precaution, I think from now on, guard duty should be carried out by ministry staff only." Said Dumbledore bringing everyone's attention back to the meeting. "Unfortunately this will mean some of you will have to take on a good deal more work, but I think it's the safest option.

"All those in favour raise your hand." Mad-Eye requested. The vote was reluctant but unanimous. Those of us who didn't work for the ministry didn't want to put extra pressure on those who did, and those who did surely didn't want to add more hours to their working day; but it seemed our only option.

Just a few days later, more bad news arrived by post: in a letter to Sirius, Harry had told him, in his endearing self-effacing way, that not only was Umbridge as dreadful a teacher as we suspected but his scar was hurting again. Sadly though, I didn't think there was much we do about that. With Voldemort gaining power and followers every day, the connection between him and Harry, that signalled itself through that scar, was bound to get stronger too.

I had planned to do some research on cursed scars to see if there was anything Harry could do about the pain, but my attentions were pulled elsewhere. There had been a report of a muggle-born witch killed by a vampire in southern Ireland. Because the very same witch had reported that two wizards we suspected to be Death Eaters had verbally assaulted her just two weeks previously, we immediately suspected that the Death Eaters had sent the vampire to kill her. I volunteered to investigate as naturally I assumed the vampire was Leohnard, the vampire that wanted me dead. However, it turned out that the poor witch had actually been killed by some twisted muggles who had been imitating vampires. I was gone all weekend and returned to Grimmauld place very late on the 8th of September feeling disgusted by the depravity of some human beings and frustrated that I still had no idea where Leohnard was, what he was up to and how close he was to finding me.

When I arrived at number twelve I found Sirius in no better mood. He was in the kitchen with a glass of whiskey looking bitter but also strangely guilty. It transpired that he had contacted Harry by floo and when Harry had wisely told Sirius not to visit him in person, Sirius, being the hot-headed gobshite that he was, had snapped at Harry.

"You shouldn't have been talking to him through a fireplace anyway, Sirius," I had berated,

"what if someone saw you? Umbridge will no doubt be keeping her eyes on the fireplaces at Hogwarts."

"I just wanted to see if he was alright!" Sirius had snapped back, as he sat at the kitchen table his shoulders hunched up in a defiant sulk.

"I understand Sirius, but you have to exercise some caution." I warned.

"Oh hell, you sound just like Dumbledore: 'you need to stay inside...no more unnecessary excursions.,.the aurors are onto you...'"

"Well they are! The papers say you've been spotted in London!"

"Ah, it's bollocks they don't know anything." Sirius said with a careless wave of his hand. "Besides Kingsley will keep them off my tail."

"He can only do so much."

"For Merlin's sake Remus, give it a rest!" Sirius almost shouted, standing up with a loud scrape of his chair.

"No! Not until you take this seriously." I argued. "I don't want to loose you again."

Sirius' petulance suddenly faded away and he looked at me with pity. I didn't usually admit my feelings like that, so whenever I did it always had impact.

"And Harry feel's the same – he's not just trying to spoil your fun." I continued.

"I know! I'm not a child." Sirius retorted, then he groaned obviously aware that he was acting like one. "I just – I can't stand being here with just bloody Kreacher for company – it's driving me mad!"

I sympathised, but there wasn't much I could do. I settled for just trying to distract him by asking him about what Harry had said. Sirius told me about Harry's theory that his scar hurts more when Voldemort is feeling a strong emotion like anger, which made me think of something:

"What if if was happiness and not anger?" I said.

"Why would he – oh! If Avery was sending a message!" Said Sirius reading my mind.

"Exactly: Avery sent a message while he was missing in the department of mysteries, Voldemort gets it and rejoices, and Harry's scar hurts as a result." I summarised.

The next morning, the day of the SWAMP ball, Sirius put the idea to Moody. He had stopped at Grimmauld place for a quick word with me about a warehouse in Leeds he had been monitoring: he was convinced Death Eaters were using it to breed Chimaeras; an unlikely possibility, but if there were Death Eaters there then they probably weren't just sitting around eating sandwiches and exchanging right wing views, so I agreed to accompany him on a surveillance mission. Arthur and Molly were there as well as apparently Molly so severely doubted the culinary skills of two bachelors and an insane house elf that she felt obliged to provide Sirius and I with the occasional meal. Tonks was also there – I don't really know why.

"You might be right Sirius." Moody told Sirius, "Tonks – this will mean you and the others will have to be more vigilant during guard duty." He added shouting across the room to Tonks who was sitting next to me eating a croissant while I told her about how university students like to celebrate ("They do drink a lot. I once had a student warn me, quite earnestly, whilst lying on the floor 'mind my bike there, it might bite you. If it bites you, kick it'.").

"I'm not sure I can be any more vigilant Mad-Eye." Tonks replied. "Not without injuring myself."

"You can always be more vigilant, Tonks." I joked which earned me a playful shove from the young auror. In retaliation I stole a bit of her croissant.

"Oi!" She exclaimed trying to reach for it, but I shoved it in my mouth before she could, so Tonks tickled my ribs in the hope I would choke from laughing. When Molly delivered a plate of hot bacon rashers to the table Tonks let me go and I sheepishly swallowed the croissant. I didn't like the way Molly had arched her eyebrow at me.

"Oh dear." Arthur suddenly said, and everyone turned to look at him. He was standing by the enchanted window next to the fireplace reading the Daily Prophet that had just arrived. His face was uncharacteristically pale.

"What is it dear?" Molly asked. Arthur didn't say anything, he just laid the paper down on the kitchen table where everyone could see the headline on the second page: MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM DOLORES UMBRIDE APPOINTED FIRST EVEN HIGH INQUISITOR.

I scanned the first few paragraphs and realised at once why Arthur had looked so pale. Percy had been liberally quoted expressing his approval of Umbridge and all the Ministry meddling she stood for. Of course Percy was entitled to think what he liked about the Ministry and it's politics, but I couldn't help but feel frustrated that such a bright boy could get it so wrong. Molly gave a shaky sigh and anxiously clutched her face as she read over my shoulder.

"Oh dear – they boy's really been brainwashed..." Sirius said a little tactlessly. Arthur chewed his lip and nervously cleaned his glasses.

"I'm sure he will see sense soon." Moody contributed as he leant on the kitchen table next to Sirius. Suddenly Tonks let out a weird squeak.

"What?" I asked quietly. Tonks opened her mouth but found she couldn't say anything as she looked nervously at me, then she pointed to the eighth paragraph. I was somewhat shocked to see my own name.

'Among those eccentric decisions [made by Dumbledore] are undoubtedly the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the employment of werewolf Remus Lupin...'

I'm not sure why seeing myself outed in the paper made my heart beat so quickly. Perhaps it was just the unexpectedness of it, or maybe it was the fact that my label, 'werewolf,' came before my name: I was a werewolf first, a human being second.

"What is it?" Sirius asked struggling to read the paper upside down.

"I'm mentioned." I said blankly. "As one of Dumbledore's eccentric decisions."

"Oh. Bummer." Sirius said. "If I'm honest though, I've been waiting for them to bring you into it."

"What do you mean?"

"All the slander about Dumbledore...I figured it's only a matter of time before they use the fact he hired a werewolf as ammunition against him." Sirius said and I sighed.

"Oh well. It's not like it was a secret anyway. They have written about me before." I said. It was true, the prophet had outed me as a werewolf already, but this was a much bigger story: this was a double-spread article on the second page, the first article was just a little quarter page piece on page 12, more people would have read this one.

"And poor Hagrid as well." Tonks added. "Merlin, if only those idiots at the prophet knew how you and Hagrid have risked your lives for them..."

I purposefully closed the paper and folded it in half so that all we could see was a picture of one of the Holyhead Harpies having banana skins thrown at her for dropping the quaffle.

"Poor Harry gets this sort of thing every day." I said, my eyes drawn to Tonks who was still looking at me. She sighed, put a hand on my shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.

"Well, I need to be going." Moody suddenly said. "Thanks for agreeing to help me Remus – we'll arrange all the finer details at the next meeting."

"Yes, good. Thanks Mad-Eye." I said somewhat absentmindedly.

"I better go too – don't want to be late." Arthur said still looking warily at the paper like it was an unopened howler.

"Ditto." Tonks said getting up from the table without removing her hand from my shoulder. In fact, she had left it gently resting there, her fingertips occasionally rubbing my collarbone, for a curiously long time. But almost as soon as that thought crossed my mind she let me go.

"I'll see you at the Ball right?" She asked me cheerfully.

"Yes...that thing." I replied.

"Oh come on, you can muster more enthusiasm than that." Tonks teased. I smiled at her and Tonks gave a gentle laugh. A few moments later and there were three quite pops as Tonks, Moody and Arthur dissaparated to work. Molly stayed around a bit longer to help clear up the breakfast things, and foist us with a home-made lasagne, to keep us sustained, until she could come back to cook for us. Sirius and I protested, insisting that we could manage for ourselves and that she shouldn't go to so much trouble for us, but we could never win against Molly Weasley – especially not when both of us secretly wanted the delicious lasagne.

Once Molly had gone Sirius sat down opposite me, flung away the daily prophet that I had been masochistically reaching for, and posed the question: "Now, have you changed your mind about the metamorphamagus?"

I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"Don't do that. I genuinely want to know." Said Sirius.

"What to know what? What are you trying to get at exactly?"

"Are you still not going to do anything? I'm confused see, because you're still flirting with her."

"I'm not flirting with her."

"Yes you are! It's revolting. Almost as revolting as the way she flirts with you."

"No-one is flirting with anyone."

"Merlin. Right, well, leaving your denial aside – I really think you should reconsider your plan of inaction."

"Sirius, I don't want to talk about this."

"She already knows what you are and isn't repulsed, that doesn't happen very often. How can you pass this opportunity up?"

"Because!" I insisted frustratedly. "It wouldn't be right." I added in a guilty hiss.

"Right...wrong...they are vague concepts, Moony." Philosophised Sirius in that irritating but charismatic offhand tone of his.

"Within your warped moral code maybe, within mine they are not. And this...this thing with Tonks..." I felt a bit giddy just saying that phrase, "it's...No. My answer is no."

"Right, well, tell me if you still feel that way after you've seen her all dressed up at the ball tonight." Sirius said pointing a challenging finger at me.

I don't know if my feelings actually changed, but they certainly were a heck of mess when she arrived at the ball with her friends. The ball was being held in the 'Supernatural History Museum' on the South Bank. The museum was a rather eccentric building. It looked exactly like a bland 1960s office block to any muggles passing it by with a small sign of the door that read 'LPW Actuarial Archives', a sign of sufficient dullness to discourage any sane muggle from trying to enter. To a witch or wizard though it looked quite different. It was a patchwork of different architectural ideas: several stories high with roman columns, flying buttresses made of steel, islamic-style horseshoe arches, and a top floor made entirely of glass so that you could look out across london as you admired magical artefacts from years gone by.

It was on the top floor that the ball was taking place: the usual artefacts had been removed and, in celebration of the ball's objective, replaced with an assortment of muggle objects SWAMP thought would be interesting to witches and wizards. Of course, the objects muggles find interesting and the objects witches and wizards find interesting were, more often than not, entirely different (Arthur Weasley is testament to this fact). Quite a few muggles had been invited to the ball, most of whom where the husbands and wives of the magical guests, and they were immensely amused by the 'star attraction' of the muggle exhibition: a vacuum cleaner. Other muggle artefacts on display included a computer that could connect to something called the internet, which none of the magical folk found the slightest bit interesting as it took at least fifteen minutes to establish a link with to the so-called internet, and then apparently did nothing. I watched one wizard jab his fingers at the computer screen, pear around the back of it and press every button on the strange machine before loudly exclaiming "what the heck is this for? and who on earth is Jeeves?". I was reliably informed, by a muggle businessman, that soon almost every muggle would own a computer able to connect to the internet, but I still have no idea what it actually does. There were some objects that did catch my interest though: a smallish device designed to clip on your belt that played music through some earmuffs, sadly it didn't work as the batteries had gone missing (apparently they had fallen out and the museum curator mistook them for petrified billiwigs and threw them away) but I was impressed all the same; a large sculpture of a robot (a mechanical person popular in muggle stories) made out of television sets – some of which actually worked and showed clips of current muggle TV shows, which all seemed to centre around a group of muggles with bouffant haircuts dancing in a fountain; a selection of cigarette lighters which went down very well ("Incredible! They have invented their own magic, they really have!" I heard someone cry); and my own personal favourite: a collection of biros of assorted colours ( I decided then and there that some clicky topped biros were going on my Christmas list).

When Tonks arrived I was being introduced to the Chairman of SWAMP by Arthur Weasley, and I was in mid handshake when my attention was lassoed by the bewitching greeny-blue dress she was wearing. It was was flowing and diaphanous and embroidered with gold and red flowers. But most of all it just looked so damn good on her slender figure. The urge to embrace her in my arms was almost overpowering. Also her hair was that lovely pink colour again, and it's natural length, but tied up in a braided knot at the nape of her neck. She looked nervous, almost as if she was uncomfortable looking so pretty. She wrapped her arms around her body, perhaps in an attempt to hide herself and sheltered in the gaggle of her friends. I recognised one of her friends as Hestia Jones, but I didn't know any of the rest.

"Mr Lupin?" I heard someone say. After an embarrassing length of time I realised it was the chairman of SWAMP whose hand I was still holding. I let him go and tried not to blush. The chairman laughed to diffuse the tension.

"Sorry I er..." I mumbled but the chairman saved me the bother of trying to come up with an excuse.

"So you were a teacher? How do you feel about the new high commissioner?" The Chairman said.

"Honestly?" I said.

"Of course." Replied the chairman.

"I think it's a rather shameless way for Fudge to control what goes on at Hogwarts."

"But surely it's good that the ministry is introducing some regulation..."

The chairman continued and although I did my best to contribute to the conversation my mind was fixated on Tonks. As Moody had advised she stayed away from me, but our eyes met across the room every so often, and after a glass of wine or two I was beginning to think that I'd have to say hello to her at least: being in the same room as her and not talking to her was unbearable. But then, something unexpected happened. I was on my third glass of wine inspecting a model railway when I heard a voice I recognised.

"Well good evening Mr Lupin." The voice said seductively. I turned around with intrigue. Sure enough standing before me, looking as fabulous as always in a red velvet dress, was Diana Shacklebolt.