There were very few things that could take Harry's mind away from thoughts of Tonks, but the universe, the cold and unfathomable and calculated universe, managed to find one such resource.

His cousin Dudley.

He didn't look anything at all as he had in his youth. His hair was no longer blond; either time or dye had made it sandy brown, though Harry could not tell which. He was not overweight, but instead overtly muscular, his mass making any movement he made appear ungainly. His neck was thick enough for it to seem painful to tilt his head in any direction.

A young woman held his hand. She was short, with red hair, big, peering eyes, and a wide smile she seemed determined to wear at all moments.

Harry immediately gripped his wand, sending a spell Dudley's way because it had to be polyjuice. There was no way Dudley would just so happen to be there. Smeltings was a good school, but not this good.

It was not magic.

Harry checked again, just to be certain.

It was still not magic.

Harry discreetly sent a volley of spells his way, checking for everything under the sun. Magic, poison, weapons, portkeys. Everything.

Nothing came back.

Just his cousin, smiling, and somehow at this wedding.

With an odd sort of nervousness, Harry searched the names of the other couple at their table. It was still 'John Smith' and 'Jane Jones'.

"Over there is my cousin," Harry said, his voice coming oddly. He didn't know why he'd said it; Tonks had been the one to point him out. He nodded his head to the other side of the hall. "Which should be impossible."

Tonks became still beside him, her hand grasping her wand. Magic passed through the room as she no doubt repeated the very same spells Harry had cast.

"He has changed, hasn't he?" said Tonks, after finding nothing, just as Harry had. "I remember him being bigger than that, from the one time I met him."

"I did too."

"His name wasn't on any of the lists."

And, as Dudley was fast running through all of the tables, Harry came to a sudden realisation.

That he was likely not there in any capacity as 'Dudley'.

A thought only made more likely as Dudley met Harry's eyes amongst the swelling tide of wedding guests, and did not seem shocked at all. He prodded his companion's arm and they walked in a direct line to Harry and Tonks' table.

It'd been eight years since Harry had last seen his cousin. At that time, he'd been in the light of a dawning war, telling Dudley to flee to the safe shade of a distant country; anywhere that was not Britain. They'd left one another amicably, or as amicably as they could when considering their shared past. They shook hands, gave one another a nod, and had gone their separate ways.

After the war, Harry had spent half an hour searching the Dursley name to discover they were all alive. Beyond that, he hadn't spared their fates another thought, and he definitely hadn't expected to see Dudley ever again.

Yet there was Dudley, older and thinner and calmer, walking over to give Harry a nod of greeting. Harry and Tonks rose to their feet, taking the hands that Dudley and 'Jane' offered.

"I'm John," said Dudley. His voice was different to how it'd been in his youth. Deeper, of course, but with a neutral sort of accent, rather than the obnoxiously posh one his parents had forced into his inflections. Oddly, he then found himself in one of the few places where that voice would've helped him blend in. "This is my girlfriend, Jane."

"Hadley," said Harry, with a shake of his cousin's hand. "This is my partner, Taylor."

"Shall we sit down then?" asked Tonks, who was quite clearly holding in a laugh at Harry's predicament. Harry and Dudley ended the odd handshake at once, falling to their seats.

Jane's smile seemed to grow yet further still until it was very nearly the only thing on her face. "It is a lovely venue, is it not?" she began by saying. Her accent was just as neutral as Dudley's. Identifiably English and little else. "The only problem is the lack of privacy, I find."

Harry looked at Dudley, searching to see if his inference was astute. His cousin gave a nod and, under the table, Harry cast the muffling charm.

Only when it was fully wreathed over the table, and their conversation obscured from any listening ears, did Harry find his voice.

"Would you mind telling me why the hell you're here, Dudley?" Harry asked. "And why, exactly, you're now apparently called John Smith?"

Dudley smiled, though not the cruel sort Harry recalled from the older man's childhood birthday parties. "I'm here for the same thing as you," he said. "Protecting Stephen Sumner's family."

"So, you're in the security services now?" Harry asked, fighting the urge to run his hands through his hair fitfully. "How?"

"A lot can change in a decade," Dudley said calmly. The idea of Dudley being calm about anything struck a dissonant chord within Harry. "After leaving Britain when you told me to, me and Mum and Dad went to Germany. Grunnings had a job free there for Dad to transfer to, apparently. But, when we got there, the wizarding community got wind that we were your relatives and offered us protection. Me and Mum took it; Dad didn't. I haven't seen him since. I know he's alive and that's it."

Harry didn't quite know what to think about that. Where Vernon Dursley was concerned, he found it best not to think about him at all. Whether he was destitute or the richest man in the world, it did not matter, so long as he was far, far away from Harry.

"Didn't have many job prospects in Germany, obviously. Eighteen and I didn't speak a word of their language. Luckily, their magical ministry offered me a job as a liaison to the muggle world, seeing as I knew more than I should." He laughed. "They realised pretty sharpish that I wasn't really cut out for intelligence work, given I spent all my time in the gym."

"Still do, seems like," muttered Tonks. Dudley smiled.

"So, I was assigned as a liaison to Interpol, basically as hired muscle. I've been working there ever since, doing a little bit of everything," said Dudley. "These days I tend to go wherever there's magic in muggle areas."

"And do what, exactly?" asked Tonks.

"Help," said Dudley. "Makes things a lot easier if our side of security knows what's happening too. This way we're not stepping on each other's toes."

"We only arrived this morning, after the attack of the poisoned whisky," said Jane. Her smile faltered. "I must say, your surveillance team leaves much to be desired. They are lucky this entire wedding does not know the exact coordinates of Diagon Alley."

Harry and Tonks shared a look.

"How come I've never ran into you, after nearly a decade of us working in basically the same job?" Harry asked. "How come I've never heard a thing about you?"

He could understand that the name Dudley Dursley was not shared around often, but there had not even been a hint of anyone even remotely fulfilling his description.

"In the early days, I was the target of several attacks because of us being related," Dudley said. "After that, they made my real identity disappear. Even inside government agencies, even magical ones, so I just...disappeared. Then after the war, I didn't see a reason to put mum in any more danger."

"Still, though?"

"My job becomes impossible when I'm more famous than anyone I'm paid to protect." Harry nodded, understanding. "And, as for why you specifically haven't seen me, I chose for it to be that way."

Harry's eyes widened. "Why?" he asked. "Growing up was shit obviously, but I'd still want to know that you were alright."

Dudley shrugged; the first sign of unsureness he'd worn since Harry had seen him arrive. "I knew if people knew I held even the smallest connection to you, things would change. They'd treat me differently," he said. "As a kid, anything I did or got was 'cos of Mum and Dad. I didn't want to be that sort of adult too. I didn't know you were the wizard working this job. If you were, I'd probably have said no." He shrugged again. "Sorry, anyway."

Harry shook his head. "It's alright."

"So, what's your story, 'Jane'?" asked Tonks quickly, leaning into her chair. "Seeing as we're all in a sharing mood. I mean, we know Dudley here, and I've no doubt you know our lives front to back, what with how Interpol records these things."

Jane gave the slightest shrug.

"I am not so interesting," she said, still smiling. "A squib of an unnotable family. My brother attended Durmstrang, I attended a finishing school."

"And what did you learn there?" Tonks asked.

"I gained an understanding of intelligence," she said. She nodded her head toward Dudley. "And all of the skills this buffoon never had the mind to learn. Meaning anything that requires a brain, and not dumbbells."

Dudley shook his head for a moment, smiling. Then, he folded his arms, his suit straining with the newly applied stress.

"Now that the trivial matters are passed us, may we begin the task at hand?" asked Jane. "We shall remain focused in different areas of course, but have you seen any points of contention, of a non-magical sort, that you think may require our most immediate attention?"

Both Harry and Tonks paused for a moment's thought, yet Harry found his voice first.

"There is actually, yeah," he said, searching the assembled crowd for two faces in particular. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about a Margery and Richard, would you? Middle-aged, Richard made a poor choice of facial hair and stuck to it?"

Dudley's eyes followed Harry's, Dudley's search drawing to a stop the very moment Harry's did.

"They are known to Interpol," said Jane. "He is one of the wealthiest men in Britain. Thirty-fourth, at the present moment."

Both Harry and Tonks shared a frown. There had been an odd aura about the man, but richness had not been its cause, Harry did not think.

"I know them," said Dudley. "I've met them before."

"When?"

"They're old friends of Dad," he said. "Dad met Richard at a golf club when we were kids; Dad invited him over for dinner."

Harry turned to Tonks. "So he did know who I was."

"Whatever," she said. Harry grinned at her, and she toed his shin with her boot. "Point is, now you two are here together, there's no way they don't connect the dots."

"That might just be okay," said Harry. "Most of these people — actually nearly everyone outside of about twenty — are from the Sumner side. So long as they all think we're Sally-Anne's childhood friends, we'll be fine."

"I don't think they'd remember much about us," said Dudley. "They only came to the house once, and never again."

"How do you remember that?"

Dudley looked away. "Not for a good reason."

Contrition was a new look on Dudley, Harry realised.

"I think, given how much of an arsehole you were growing up, you owe me this one story," Harry said. "Or, we could talk about your birthdays instead, if you'd prefer that."

"Well, they weren't that bad."

Harry looked at Jane. "He would count his presents to make sure there were more than the year before," he told her. "And, if there wasn't, he—"

"—I've changed my mind," interrupted Dudley. "I just kept following Margery around, asking why her stomach was so big." He imitated its shape on his own body. "Mum spent three hours telling me about pregnancy as a five-year-old and I've never been the same since."

"That would stick with you," commented Tonks. "So, outside of what was undoubtedly a traumatic childhood event, anything else?"

"I don't think so, no," Dudley said. "After the impression I left, they never came around again."

Tonks leaned in for a flash to whisper into Harry's ear. "Could still be swingers."

"Please stop," Harry whispered back, before addressing Dudley. "So, you don't know the groom at all?" He cleared his throat. "Richard seemed to think I knew him growing up."

Dudley shook his head. "Our report says Hugh went to Eton, so I might have played against him in a rugby match or something, but other than that no, sorry."

The waiting staff walked through the service doors of the hall, carrying with them the entrées of their meal. Smoked salmon, as decided by the bride and groom. As Harry and Tonks' hands went to their wands, Dudley and Jane's eyes focused on every motion, macro or micro, throughout.

Dudley and Jane were not the only security workers there, either. There was a waitress, with muscular arms and with a walk far too rigid to be innocuous, and a couple at a table twenty yards or so away, who made eye contact with Dudley and Jane at a concerning regularity.

Just as the last of the plates were placed on its table, Hugh Sumner stood, and the room fell silent.

"Hello everyone," he began by saying. A fond sort of noise met his greeting, bringing a smile to his face. "I'm glad you've all made it here in one piece." He looked toward Sally-Anne. "This is the happiest time of my life. But more than that, it's the beginning of the life I've dreamed of, and I couldn't imagine spending this time without the company of a single one of you."

Tonks' elbow nudged Harry in the middle of the sea of 'awws' that the assembled crowd let out.

"You'll all be pleased to know that my father has made a full recovery after the cowardly attack he suffered a week ago," Hugh said. Applause followed. "While he won't be here in body, he will be in spirit. After the news reached us, we suggested to him to postpone this day until he could attend, but he did not wish for his attacker to rob anything from him or those that he loved, including the joy that this week would bring."

Hugh's hand dropped down to take his champagne flute. "I'd like to propose a toast, first and foremost," he said. "To my father, Stephen Sumner, without whom none of this would be possible. A man who taught me that, above all, compassion should be the guiding light in your life. That the greatest feat a man can achieve is to listen. That the bravest act a man can make is to acknowledge one's own weakness and change for the better." He raised his champagne flute. "To my Dad."

"To Stephen!"

Hugh sat down and Sally-Anne stood to address the crowd. She did not speak immediately, her eyes instead finding Hugh, until he took her hand in his. Only then did she look up to the guests.

"Hello everyone," she said, a fretful smile flashing to her face. "I know that I haven't had the chance to meet all of you yet but it is my hope that I will get to do so in these next few days. Or the next few years, I suppose." She laughed to herself. "There has never been a moment in my time with Hugh that I've felt anything other than safe and loved. From the first day I saw him in a lecture theatre at Oxford, to the day he fell to his knee and placed this ring upon my finger." She held her left hand aloft. "He welcomed me into his life until it became ours, for which I will be forever grateful.

"Now," Sally-Anne said, laughing, "with that out of the way, we will allow you to enjoy your time without hearing a preview to our vows." The crowd laughed. "With just one final announcement. That being that the hotel has generously gifted everyone here with a complimentary round of golf this afternoon, as well as free club hire should anyone require it. It is our hope that we make a sort of tournament of it, and that after this meal, we would make our way outside to enjoy the sunshine."

A roar left the crowd at her words. From what Harry had seen of the guests as they'd checked in, there would be very few of them in any desperate need to hire clubs.

Never before had Harry seen any group of individuals in such a rush to finish a free Michelin star meal, or indeed any meal for that matter. The salmon was perfect, of course, as was the pâté accompanying it. Yet to most, it disappeared quickly, as did the filet mignon that followed, and the panna cotta with raspberry coulis after that.

"Have you ever played golf?" Jane asked. Even with Harry and Tonks checking their meals, she would not eat her plate, but rather choosing to shove it into Dudley's path.

Some habits, it appeared, were hard to break. Years of covert operations training would not be displaced by something as intangible as magic. Not for Dudley, however, who took on her food without delay.

Harry looked at Dudley. "I've been on a few golf courses," he said. Tonks shook her head, her mouth otherwise occupied. "But I don't think I've ever played. Not unless mini-golf counts."

"It does not," Jane said. "You will provide good surveillance today, in that case. You are likely to see every blade of grass in the county."

Sally-Anne had, in a welcome change in perspective, given the four of them the tee-time behind her and Hugh. The second-last and last times of the day, respectively. Furthermore, the funnelling of nearly every wedding guest through the golf clubhouse provided an easy opportunity for Harry and Tonks to send spells over each guest to ensure that no danger had slipped through.

Fortunately, none had, which was of great relief. No master warders, slicing barely-there gaps in the wards and slipping through undetected. No polyjuice, no animagi, no compulsions, and no Imperius curse. Not even an enchanted weapon; no swords, knives, or golf clubs. No poisons, nor potions, or even explosives.

Furthermore, they had received a Patronus — such magic was invisible to muggles — from Kingsley, detailing that the Notts, both Theodore and Mikah, had been confirmed to be in Milan; the local Aurors had made every effort to confirm their identity, too.

And so, they had no choice but to accept that whoever was behind the attacks were not Death Eaters, or rather not marked members. Even after their losses, the supremacy they fought and died for lived on in the corners of pureblood homes, and so it was possible, and indeed likely, that the perpetrator was young.

The culprit had not killed anyone yet, albeit not for lack of trying. That, in Harry's eyes, indicated inexperience, or even perhaps doubt, in their actions. The others would not be doubtful; not after so many years.

So, it was likely someone recently inducted into their hateful ideology. Unfortunately, such occurrences had been more common than they ought to be.

After the war, many purebloods had felt disenfranchised by Voldemort's loss, or more than likely, the reform that followed. Hereditary seats within the Wizengamot were taken away. Tax rates were equalised between the classes. Reparations were given to muggle-borns, so as to help bridge the economic gap. Every employer was required to publicly share their hiring procedure, and were subject to independent inquiry should prejudice be perceived to exist within an organisation.

Many purebloods mistook equality for mistreatment, and so went searching for a way to find the unbalance once more. They were reckless and uncontrolled and so they were easily apprehended, but not before creating a great deal of chaos for the Aurors, and often the Obliviators, to clean up.

With any luck, it would be one of those. If it was, they would have no hope of breaking through the protections placed on the Lansbury Hotel and, in their attempt, they would kick up a storm that would make them all too easy to find and stop. Their failure with the poison would likely infuriate them, and in their rage, they would have no choice but to become more overt in their attempts.

If it was something else entirely; another group looking to make a name for themselves by borrowing the latent fear that the Death Eaters still held. That would be the truest cause of worry. If this was only the crest of yet another wave against the fragile shores of Britain's magical society, Harry feared it would be one that they could not weather.

Not so soon.

Thankfully, no such wave appeared anywhere near the Lansbury Hotel as Harry walked out onto the first tee. The world in the early evening was bone-dry, with a sky of the clearest blue.

Tonks had insisted that they 'go native' and so he was wearing an argyle jumper and shorts made of the brightest green Harry had ever come across. When she had first transfigured his attire, his first thought had been to worry for any overhead aircraft passing by, as their pilots would most assuredly be blinded.

To her credit, her own attire was no better, given that it mirrored his exactly save for being shaded in purple so as to match her hair.

"You're really leaning into the whole 'superhero' thing, aren't you?" Harry asked, hauling both of their hired golf clubs. They'd attempted to work out how to use a wheelable trolley, but quickly found themselves totally stumped. In the end, Harry had cast a featherlight charm on their bags. "You look like the Riddler."

"No," said Tonks, "you look like the Riddler. I look like Hawkeye."

"Who?"

Tonks made a bow-and-arrow with her hands. She let loose, watching it 'sail' over the horizon. Harry was still none-the-wiser.

"Cupid?" Harry asked.

"Is your heart a-flutter, beloved?" Tonks asked, pulling back her 'bow' once again, and loosing it through his chest. Harry rolled his eyes.

"I never liked the idea of Cupid," he said. "Do you not think it's creepy, a person just coming along and bewitching you into loving someone?" He grimaced. "It feels like a love potion."

"Isn't that the whole thing people love about love?" She laughed. "The fact that you have basically no choice in the matter. Your heart picks a direction and you just go."

"But when has it ever worked that way for you?" Harry asked. "Attraction works that way, sure, but love?" He shook his head. "No way. Love is always a conscious action."

Tonks was silent until Dudley, and then Jane, came into view.

"It's not about choice," she said, her eyes watching toward the horizon. "It's about facing something you're afraid of. In those times, you want a mask to hide behind; it's easier to be honest that way." Tonks shrugged. "So, Cupid takes away the fear, not the choice."

Any words that might well have formed on his tongue disappeared. His mind was taken, stunned.

"Also, just putting it out there," Tonks said, as they were tens of yards away from Dudley and Jane, "Cupid's not a superhero."

"He has superpowers," Harry said. "Flight, emotional manipulation—"

"—But we have powers too, you realise." She turned toward Harry. "Are we superheroes?"

"There are cards that people collect that have our faces on them." He nodded to himself. "So, yes."

"You even have the whole orphan thing too," she said, with a hum. Harry laughed. "To think about it; you're rich, orphan obviously, famous parents." She gave him one of those smiles. It briefly made his mind stop working. "You're really fucking hot, and you're a detective. You're Batman."

He still was not equipped to handle her words, his skin heating.

"What does that make you, then?" Harry chanced. "Catwoman?"

"I am very flexible when I want to be," she said. "But no, we're partners, on the same side. And, more importantly, I'm not weird about cats." She shook her head. "No, I'm Wonder Woman."

Harry and Tonks met Dudley and Jane's eyes, nodding to them.

"Isn't she a Goddess, with super strength and stuff?" Harry asked. "And Batman's just a bloke, right? How's that fair?"

"Just gotta play the cards you're dealt here, Hadley," she said, as they approached the hearing distance of the others, her voice then dropping several decibels.

"But isn't your whole thing being able to look completely different whenever you want to?" Harry asked. "If anything, you're Batman, and you have a million Bruce Waynes whenever you want them." He sighed. "And, you're a way better detective than me, anyway."

Tonks stilled for a moment, sighing dreamily. "You really think I'm Batman?" She swooned. "That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said about me."

Harry chuckled. "Which means I get to be Wonder Woman!" he said, triumphantly. As triumphantly as one could be whilst still not alerting the others. "And I then have the best superpower; super strength."

"Wonder Woman?" Tonks asked. "Not Superman? Not Green Lantern? Not Martian Manhunter? Not even the Flash?" Harry looked at her quizzically. "Dad's into comics. We used to go to car boot sales when I was a kid."

"Well, I don't know any of those apart from Superman, and he's pretty boring." The strap of their golf bags had begun to slip from his shoulder, and so he hefted them up higher, so as to right their place. "I mean, sure, the whole super strength thing is the best, obviously, but outside of that? Very bland."

"But Wonder Woman isn't?"

"Nah." Harry shook his head. "Wonder Woman has a lasso of truth and a shield that stops bullets. All Superman has is an iffy understanding of how time and the world spinning works."

Tonks stopped completely, turning to Harry. She took his hand in hers, her other hand sliding against his cheek. Harry smiled against her hand.

He thought to divert his eyes to the ground, away from hers, but he did not.

He kept her gaze and was treated to the brown cast of her eyes shimmering into gold and amber.

"I think you'd look very hot in Wonder Woman's costume," she said, only to soon add. "But then again you look hot in most things."

Harry flicked his eyes toward the others, who stood not too far away. Tonks gave a resolute shake of her head.

"You'd look hot as Batman," said Harry, his mind's eye briefly imagining Tonks in black leather in the cover of night. "But, then again, you look hot in most things."

"Only most?"

"I haven't seen you in everything yet."

Tonks' thumb brushed its path from his mouth to his ear, dragging his smile along with it. "We've known each other ten years, Harry," Tonks whispered. "I think you've seen all of me."

"We've known of each other for ten years," Harry whispered back. "I think we've only just started to know one another these past few days."

"So, what things do you want to see me in then?" Tonks asked. "Just so that you have a clearer understanding of if I'm hot in everything, of course."

Harry smiled, and he looked into her gorgeous eyes, losing himself. Amongst the change that was there. Amongst the change that was her. "I hope to see the next few days after this one, too."

"That might be difficult," Tonks said. "With work."

"I'll make time."

Tonks leaned in.

She kissed the very corner of where his mouth met his cheek.

"You know, you're nothing like I expected you to be," she said after her mouth drifted away from him.

"Really?"

Tonks' touch left him, aiming herself back toward the first tee.

She looked over her shoulder. "Even now, I was convinced you were going to say naked." She smiled to herself. "Or hoped, perhaps."