"Dead?" Tonks asked as Remus crouched by Boskin's body.

Boskin lay crumpled on the floor, frail and white-haired, as anonymous in death as he had seemed to be in life. At least his face was peaceful. Tonks hoped it had been quick.

"Yes, but not very long, I think."

Tonks' mind began to churn out questions. "The timing is too coincidental to rule out murder. You check him, I'll go check the other rooms."

Remus looked unhappy about that. "I'm not sure you should-"

"Look, either we do this, or we leave right now and call Kingsley. We're looking at possible murder, and someone needs to act. If not us, then the Auror Department."

"Fine. Stay upstairs."

Tonks was already heading out the door. "Don't tell me how to do my job."

Remus muttered something behind her but she tuned it out. She had been perfectly willing to take a more passive role when it was just questioning an old man who probably hadn't seen anything. Now that same old man was dead, and the only reason for killing him was if he had seen something. Someone had been here, recently, and if any traces of that visit—or even better, the reason they'd been here at all—had been left behind, the sooner she found them the better.

She walked quickly to the staircase door and used the bolt to secure it shut. Then she warded it. If whoever it was came back, she wanted some warning. Unless, of course, they were still here in one of these rooms.

Tonks squared her shoulders, gripped her wand more tightly and walked to the second door on the left. She crouched low to one side and reached up to turn the handle, pushing the door open with a quick movement.

The loo. Empty.

The opposite door revealed a sitting room. Even more spare than the bedroom, it was saved by a bookcase stuffed with books, and a cozy looking chair by the small fireplace situated along the wall shared with the next house over. At least Boskin had some comforts.

The last door opened on a kitchenette and a small dining area, which consisted of a old table and a single, dilapidated chair. It was good that this room was empty as well, because she fell flat on her arse when she reached over to open the door. So much for stealth.

All four rooms had small windows which let in enough light to see by. Tonks tried the switch on the wall in the kitchenette. The overhead light came on, two of the three bulbs burnt out. Maybe he preferred candlelight.

She went back to the sitting room, where she'd seen a desk. It took a few minutes to find and counter the simple trap spells Boskin had placed on it. It almost made her give up to look elsewhere. If he had anything really important here that he didn't want found, surely he would have placed more powerful spells on it. But Moody had trained her to be thorough, so she broke the spells and combed through all the papers she found. Everything was meticulously organized. Records for the shop. Receipts. Letters. A ledger. Nothing to indicate that Boskin had seen anything more than the usual things and people he encountered in his day to day life.

Remus appeared in the doorway, looking more tired than she had ever seen him.

"Anything?" he asked quietly.

"No. What about you?"

"Killing curse. There's always the possibility that he dropped dead from a heart attack, but I don't think so."

"No, me either."

"What now?"

"I'm going to search the kitchen, see if there's anything there. You want to look in the bedroom?"

"I already did. There's really not much there beyond clothes and a bunch of photo albums."

The kitchen showed the same spartan organization. They checked drawers and cupboards. Everything in its place and nothing out of the ordinary.

While Remus was still looking there, Tonks, more because she'd rather be thorough than because she thought it would turn up anything, checked the bathroom. There was a tiny cupboard above the toilet, that yielded up a tinier box, filled with bottles of a liquid she didn't recognize.

"Remus, do you know what this is?" she asked, coming back into the kitchen.

He examined one of the bottles, opening it up to sniff carefully.

"I think it's Obscura potion."

"He was a photographer?" she asked, taking the bottle back.

"Possibly. Although I haven't come across a camera anywhere, have you?"

"No. No photographs either. Wait, you said-"

"Photo albums," Remus finished for her, quickly heading for the door.

Tonks, hard on his heels, saw that he had covered Boskin with a sheet. The cat was curled in a ball on the dead man's chest.

"Oh, God," she stopped short. "That's one of the saddest things I've ever seen. We're going to have to take it with us, we can't leave it here by itself."

Remus didn't reply. He was pulling albums from a shelf in the closet.

There were twenty-two altogether. They flipped quickly through the pages.

The more she saw, the more appalled she was. "These are...beautiful. Look at all these! Why didn't he frame them, put them up on the walls? Sell them! He was practically a monk, to look at this place. He could have sold these downstairs in his shop. He could have sold them anywhere!"

Remus seemed just as confused. "I don't know. We'll probably never know. Regardless, there's nothing here."

Tonks started to put the pieces together. "He must have seen something and taken pictures of what was happening. Why else would the camera be gone?"

"We don't know that. It might be downstairs."

"Maybe, but I don't think so. Some of these pictures were taken from the windows up here. I would bet that he liked to keep it on hand. And he developed the pictures up here, in the bathroom."

She stood up and looked in the closet. "Did you pull anything from there?" She pointed to a bare spot on a shelf next to a scuffed pair of boots.

"No."

"Look around. There's nothing out of place here. And there's no space that isn't utilized. It's likely he has, or had, a camera. And it fits with what happened. If he saw something going on outside and he snapped a picture, they might have seen the flash and come to investigate."

"Why wait to kill him until now?"

"No idea. Maybe he left town and only just came back. Maybe they didn't have time when it happened. My question is, why didn't he do anything? Why sit on those pictures and not take them to the Aurors?"

"Do you know that he didn't?"

That made her pause. She had no idea. Maybe he had. They'd have to find out.

"Okay, true, but for the moment let's say that he didn't. That means they're around here somewhere."

"If he left, he might have hidden them in another location altogether. And if not, for all we know, they might be hidden under a floorboard somewhere, or disguised as something else. We don't have time to rip this place apart over hypothetical photographs."

"Why not? What else do we have to do today? I have time, even if you don't. These photos were important enough to get him killed."

"You're convinced they exist?"

Her gut said they did, and that they were important. She nodded.

"Well, I'm not leaving you here alone. They might be back."

Tonks chewed her lip. "You think they're keeping an eye on the shop?"

"We would."

"Shit. Then we don't have time. Okay, where would a reclusive old man with an obsession for cleanliness hide something?"

"Well, the storeroom is an obvious place, there's any number of boxes and crates down there."

Tonks tried to remember if anything down there was out of place. She drew in a quick breath. "Son of a bitch. The tables."

"What?"

"Hiding in plain sight. Those tables were a mess."

Without warning, there was a crash and what sounded like a muffled explosion downstairs, sending them both scrambling to their feet and scattering the photo albums. They rushed out of the room only to find smoke beginning to seep under the door to the storeroom below.

"Shit! The photos!" Tonks went throw the bolt.

Remus held her back. "Are you insane? They're probably trying to flush us out! Forget the photos, we have to get out of here!"

She stared at the door, unwilling to accept the obvious. If only she had pieced things together earlier… But it was too late now. The smoke was getting heavier, and this building was going to go up like dry kindling. They didn't have much time.

"You have to Apparate to one of those shops and have them report a fire. Take the cat, have whoever you talk to hold onto it until we can get back."

Remus looked horrified. "I'm not leaving you here by yourself!"

"You have to! We don't know what's going to happen when I Apparate! You want to leave me lying unconscious in an alley somewhere?"

"I could leave you with whoever I talk to!"

"And if I black out, then they'll take me to one of their hospitals and—for fuck's sake, Remus, stop wasting time and just go! I'll Apparate myself out if I have to!"

He spun and bolted for the bedroom. A yowl said that he'd grabbed the cat. She got to the door just in time to see him wink out of sight, but the crack of disapparation was lost in the sounds of breaking glass downstairs. She quickly shut the door and began casting shrinking spells on all the photo albums, shoving them in a spare pillowcase she found in the closet. Those bastards might have killed a quiet, beautiful soul, but she'd be damned if they'd erase him from existence altogether. What else, what else…

She knew it was an unholy combination of adrenaline, guilt and grief that made her want to leave this poor man's home as pristine as they'd found it, which sounded crazy even to her, seeing that it was going to be reduced to a smouldering heap soon.

Shit. She'd left the box of Obscura potion sitting on the counter in the kitchen.

She threw open the door and choked as thick smoke rolled into the room. Nevermind. The box would just have to stay there, she realized as she slammed it shut again, coughing hard. The air in the hallway was much warmer than it had been. She bent and touched the floor.

Remus needed to hurry.

As if she had summoned him, he reappeared by the bed. The look on his face when he saw her standing there did something strange to her insides.

"Thank God," was all he said, his rough voice deeper than usual as she hurried over.

"What should we do with Boskin's body?"

"We have to leave him, it will look too suspicious if the place burns up and he's gone missing."

Remus was right, and it was the same thought that she had already had, but looking at Boskin lying there, shrouded by the sheet, it was heart-wrenching to simply leave him to the fire.

"We have to go," Remus said urgently. "He's dead, there's nothing we can do for him now. This way he'll be mourned by the neighborhood. Come on."

Tonks nodded and cast Evanesco on the sheet covering Boskin's body. When the Muggle authorities found him, it couldn't look as though anyone had been here.

She quickly grabbed the pillow case, shoved her wand in its holster and returned to Remus' side. "Ready."

Remus took her hand in a tight grip and Apparated them both away.

She didn't faint this time, but it was a near thing. Tonks had no idea where they ended up, and all she could do was cling to Remus as pain made stars dance around her vision. She felt his arm, warm and bracing, around her shoulders.

"All right?" he asked after a long minute, during which she fought to stay conscious, coughing from the smoke. She nodded and eased back, unclenching her fists from his shirt.

"Can you stand by yourself for a few minutes?"

"Yeah, just...let me lean on the wall." She shuffled forward, Remus hovering over her. She finally recognized the alley near Grimmauld Place that Order members often used to Apparate in and out of the area.

"I won't be long," he said.

"Wait," she croaked, her throat irritated by the smoke and the coughing. It was good Remus hadn't had much exposure, she couldn't imagine what the effect might have been. "I was carrying a pillowcase…"

He looked around and quickly spied it on the ground where they'd been standing. "What's this?" he asked, picking up the bundle.

"His photo albums." She took the pillowcase when he held it out to her. "I didn't want to leave them there."

He gave her a look she couldn't read. "I'll be back. Stay here."

He disappeared with a crack, leaving Tonks with her own thoughts. What a horrible morning. At least they'd saved the cat, even if they couldn't save its owner. Poor cat. Poor Boskin. Her cheeks felt wet; she raised her hand and touched tears.

"Come on, lass, you can't let things affect you like that, it'll eat you up inside," she muttered in Mad-Eye's voice.

With another crack, Remus was beside her again. He saw her face and put a hand on her shoulder, looking concerned.

"What's wrong? Are you in pain?"

"No, I'm fine. Just thinking about...everything." She wiped her face impatiently. "Did you go back to check on the shop?"

He squeezed her shoulder. "The cat's fine. The corner shop owner called the fire services and agreed to look after the cat until I can go to pick it up. There's no saving the shop itself, though," his face went somber. "The entire place is one big blaze. The best they can hope for now is to keep the fire from spreading."

"Someone saw us go in there."

"Yes. I've been wondering why they didn't attack us directly."

"I warded the upper door. I should have done the same for the other doors as soon as we suspected something was wrong. Stupid."

"Stop," he shook her gently. "You were marvelous. I didn't even think to do that much. It explains the fire, though."

"Yeah. If they couldn't kill us, they could at least make us leave." She looked at him, unexpectedly overwhelmed by this small glimpse at the enormity of what they were fighting. "If the Death Eaters are like this now...Remus, how much worse is it going to get? How many people are going to die?"

She watched him debate with himself over what to say, which was telling enough.

"It's all right, don't worry about it," she said, closing her eyes. What had she expected him to do? Pat her on the head and reassure her that everything would be okay? It wasn't going to be okay, and she was behaving like a child. "I'm not sure why I asked you that."

She felt the slightest tug and release from the hand still on her shoulder, a softening of his face as she opened her eyes to look at him, as though his instinct had been to hug her.

He hesitated, then with a deep breath let his hand fall. "Don't give up," he said quietly. "That's what Voldemort is trying to make us do. Fear is the most powerful weapon he has. He wants us too afraid to fight back. But you're a fighter. I've seen it again and again just in the short time I've known you." Remus looked down at her, his voice filled with some suppressed emotion. "No matter what happens, just keep fighting, okay?"

His words warmed her, driving away some of the chill that had begun to seep into her soul lately.

"Just try not to get yourself killed while you're at it," he added in a lighter tone.

She smiled ruefully. "Not sure that's a promise I can make."

"At the very least, don't try to run headlong into a fiery ambush. I think I have more grey hairs now than when I woke up this morning."

That made her laugh outright. "If that was all it took, then it's pretty much guaranteed that I'm going to turn the rest of them grey before long."

He reached out and ruffled her hair the way Sirius did. "Says the woman who will never go grey."

She felt better, enough to think about what they needed to do next. "We need to talk to Mad-Eye. I don't know whether or not we should report this or not, now that any evidence is lost. And we need to figure out what to do with the cat."

"How about this? You go back to headquarters and send a message to Moody. I'll go talk to the shop owner. His wife was there when I brought the cat in and she was in tears when I told them what was going on. When I left she was holding it and trying to feed it something. It's possible we might not have to do anything at all."

"Let's hope so. That would be one less thing to worry about."

"You all right?" he asked.

Tonks was feeling distinctly shaky now, her body reacting to the adrenaline rush and the unexpected grief, but she didn't really want to talk about it. "I'll be fine. Don't take too long, Mad-Eye will probably want to talk to both of us right away."

"Hmm." Remus looked skeptical. "Be careful. And go straight back."

She frowned and opened her mouth to snap at him, but he stepped back, winked—winked, like he knew exactly how much it annoyed her when he ordered her around like a child—and disappeared before she could say anything. Oh, they were definitely going to have a talk about that.

A/N: That part with the cat? Stressed me out SO MUCH. I even considered having it die in the fire, for about two seconds, and had to reject the idea because I almost had a panic attack. Over an imaginary cat. Could not do it. What even is that.

I hope you're all well. Thanks so much for reading, and reviewing!