Y'know, I said before that you shouldn't get used to me posting new chapters frequently, but I may come to eat my own words...

Anyways, hello everyone once again! It is I, the Lonely Lorekeeper, and I have another chapter of To Date a Metamorph ready for all of you today. This will probably be my last one of the week—I have a few projects for school I still need to work on, so I'll be spending the rest of this week and the weekend getting all of that done. If I get it all done before the weekend is over, though, who knows? Maybe I'll have Chapter 4 ready sooner rather than later.

Before I go, though, I'd just really like to thank all of you for how amazing this first week back to fanfictioneering has been. I was seriously nervous picking this up—my history with fanfiction hasn't been the most positive, but your reviews and messages have been so uplifting and empowering. Again, I doubt I'll be able to keep this ridiculous streak up for much longer—essentially a chapter a day. It's a fool's errand...but I can promise that as long as people love this story, I'm gonna try to keep moving forward.

Also, once again, I have to thank losthpfanficwriter for giving me the permission to work off of his incredible story Nymphadora's Beau. If y'all haven't somehow read this fanfiction yet, it's incredible, definitely one of my favorite stories on this site, hands down, and I'm so glad that losthpfanficwriter gave me permission to write my own take on their story.

With that said, please enjoy Chapter 3 of To Date a Metamorph.

Chapter 3: First Impressions

At a quarter to four, Nymphadora Tonks apparated to a spot behind several large hedges in Arabella Figg's front yard. The order had set this spot up as a predetermined apparation point—as it was close to Harry, hidden from view, and on property that was already well aware and fully supportive of the Order's mission—and the ground had a worn and almost swirl-shaped patch from Order members constantly apparating to and from Privet Drive.

Of course, the grooves in the ground were enough to make the landing a bit more unsteady than most. So, after untangling herself from the shrubbery and dusting leaves and a bit of dirt from her crash landing off of her robes, Tonks popped out from behind the hedges and began making her way over to the Dursleys' house.

Even after having been on the Harry Watch for a few weeks already, Tonks had to remind herself of the house's number, just so that she didn't get confused. Each house was so disturbingly similar, all with the same bland paint scheme and meticulously managed front lawns, which were looking a bit more yellowed in the hot July sun. It all just felt so expressionless, so boring. And Tonks, walking down the street in her ripped jeans, combat boots, and faded rock and roll t-shirt, couldn't help feeling very out of place here.

And she thought her parents' place could be boring.

When she finally arrived out front of Number 4 Privet Drive, Tonks paused to casually lean up against a nearby tree. "Real nice day we're having today, aren't we?" she asked to seemingly no one.

"You're not the one who's been standing around in the sun for the past eight hours," came a deep, rolling voice from just over her shoulder. Tonks felt an odd, spine-tingling feeling run down her back, like an egg being cracked right over her head, and knew that Kingsley had cast the Notice-Me-Not charm over the both of them so that, during the passing of the guard, they weren't noticed by any nearby muggles.

Kingsley then spoke up again, and Tonks didn't need to see him to know that he had his wand trained on her. "What's the password?"

"Rise from the ashes," Tonks replied, remembering back to the phrase that had been listed on the same paper as the Harry Watch roster.

There was a faint rustling sound from behind her, like water splashing against stone, and in an instant, the large and imposing frame of Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared under the tree beside her. The dark-skinned Auror furrowed his brow and crossed his arms at the sight of her, and Tonks noticed that in one of his hands he was holding an invisibility cloak, likely the source of the rustling, waterfall noise from earlier.

"You're early," Kingsley stated, a bit of surprise in his tone.

Tonks rolled her eyes and looked away from him, her eyes landing on the house before her. "Would you rather I not be? Anyways, anything I should know about before I take over?"

Kingsley chuckled softly, a sound like distant rumbling thunder, and shook his head. "No, not really. The place has been quiet pretty much all day. The Dursleys are out of town, they left yesterday during Hestia's shift, off to visit Vernon's sister, apparently."

Tonks suddenly stood up straight, pushing off of the tree and swiftly turning to face Kingsley. "Wait, so Harry's not even here?"

"No, he's here," Kingsley calmly replied, holding out a hand to calm the punkish metamorph down, the tips of whose hair was starting to turn more than a little red. With his other hand, he withdrew his wand and pointed it towards the Dursleys' house. A simple flick of the wrist and a murmured 'Homenum Revelio', and a moment later the two of them saw a faint red light appear outside one of the windows.

Tonks settled down at that, her hair turning back to its soft and bubbly pink shade. She was almost worried for a moment there—all this work she'd put in, and she'd almost had to wait another few days to even put it into effect. And on top of that, she would've been running a three-shift watch, all for nothing.

Sighing, she turned back to Kingsley. "Alright, good. Wouldn't want to be wasting my time here, after all."

Kingsley nodded, passing her the invisibility cloak he was still holding in his arms. "Nor would I. So, Tonks, you set? You shouldn't have much trouble—like I said, I haven't seen the boy much today."

"No, I'm pretty sure I've got this," Tonks replied, throwing the cloak over her shoulders and disappearing even from Kingsley's point of view. "Thanks anyways, Shack. You can head on back—I'm sure the missus is missing you a whole lot right about now."

"Ha! You mean the kneazle," Kingsley replied with a bellowing laugh, calming himself as he brought down the Notice-Me-Not charm and began walking off. "Take care, Tonks, see you in a few."

Tonks hung back by that tree a moment longer, watching and waiting for Kingsley to reach the apparation point. Once she saw him disappear behind the hedges, the metamorph swept the invisibility cloak up off her shoulders again and stuffed it into her moleskin pouch. Then, glancing around the quiet street once more, she walked up to the house's front door and—one quick unlocking charm later—walked inside.

If she thought the outside of the house was boring, then the interior of the Dursleys' home was absolutely unnerving. Everything was completely spotless—and not in a good way, but in a way that bordered on obsessiveness, if it hadn't already backflipped off the cliff's edge by now. The pictures that were hung on the wall were all perfectly straight and even with each other, each showing the family in various different moments in time. Harry, she noted, was missing in all of these pictures. If she hadn't already known he lived here, she wouldn't have any clue he did.

Tonks frowned and turned away from the living room, heading up the stairs. She remembered what Hermione had told her about Harry's upbringing—how he had been treated poorly by the Dursleys, and how he still bore scars from that poor excuse of a childhood. The living room was a good example of that, and she wondered what else she might find out during her visit.

The answer, as it turned out, was awaiting her at the top of the stairs and at the end of the hall. There, far enough away from the stairs that it wasn't immediately noticeable, was the door that Tonks was fairly certain connected to the room Kingsley's spell had indicated Harry being in. The door, however, brought her up short, and she couldn't help staring. There were numerous locks of varying kinds on the outside of the door, and close to the floor, a cat-flap had been installed. It looked less like a bedroom door, and more like one she'd expect from a prison.

"What the bloody hell…?" Tonks murmured quietly, her fists slowly beginning to clench and her hair turning a shocking fiery red color again. There was a lot to unpack here, and she wasn't certain she wanted to see how much further it went.

Sighing, Tonks took a moment to steady her breathing and unclench her fists. The signs of neglect and possible abuse were absolutely terrible, but she could deal with them later, after she'd finally met her target. Taking another deep breath, Tonks sighed once more as her hair faded back to its usual color, and her breasts expanded a bit, just enough that she was giving a very enticing view down her low-cut neckline.

Feeling satisfied with her appearance, the metamorph turned back to Harry's door and knocked politely on the surface. "Harry?" she called out. "Mind if I come in?"

The response she got, however, was not what she'd been expecting.

A lot of things happened in the next few seconds very quickly—so quickly, in fact, that it took Tonks a moment to sort it all out. First, the door to Harry's room slammed open, swinging out and nearly smacking Tonks in the face. She quickly side-stepped out of the way, but was immediately bowled over by someone throwing their shoulder into her hard and fast. The next thing she knew, Tonks was laying on her back in the hallway, pinned down by a young Harry Potter straddling her chest, his wand pointed down at her face.

At that moment, Tonks got her first good look at Harry Potter since she first joined up with the Order and began keeping tabs on him over the summer. The first thing that came to her mind was that her mother was definitely right—Harry was very dashing. The young man staring down at her had a thin, handsome face, his jaw set and angled. His hair, wild and windswept, fell around his face in a not-unattractive mess, the dark locks perfectly framing his face. And his eyes, those brilliant emerald eyes, seemed almost to gleam and glow from behind his glasses.

The sight sent an involuntary shiver down her spine, and her breasts expanded again on pure instinct.

And then Tonks realized that it wasn't just his eyes that were glowing, but also the tip of his wand, which was still pointed firmly at her head. Recalling the slightly precarious position she was in, Tonks licked her lips nervously and gave Harry a weak wave. "W-wotcher, Harry…I, uh…I'm from the Order."

This, however, did not seem to calm him much. "What Order?" he asked firmly, his eyes blazing as he adjusted the grip on his wand. "Who sent you here—how did you even get in here?"

"I'm with the Order of the Phoenix!" Tonks squeaked out. Logically, she knew that she could easily throw Harry off of her, draw her wand, and turn this whole situation back over on him. At the moment, though, with him towering over her like he was, he looked too intimidating—and too attractive, if she were being honest—for her to do much of anything. She quickly added, almost as an afterthought, "Dumbledore sent me!"

That got his attention.

"You're with Dumbledore?" he asked, and his posture eased up. He sat up and pulled away from her, lowering his wand from her face. His eyes, though, remained narrowed and focused. "Really?"

"Yeah, I swear! I'm on your side, I'm a friend. I'd even be willing to swear a magical vow that I come in peace, honest!" Her words helped to calm herself down, and she could see in his expression that, at the very least, he was listening. Getting an idea in her head, she smiled and morphed her facial features so that she had large, sad, cat-like eyes looking up at him. "Besides, you wouldn't hurt little old me, would you?"

Harry spluttered in surprise, and he backed up even more. "What the—?" he exclaimed, only to be met by Tonks' playful, bubbling laughter.

"Sorry, sorry, I couldn't help myself," she said between laughs. After taking a bit to calm down, the metamorph looked back up at Harry and shot him a grin. "Seriously, though, I'm only here to help."

"Well…alright then," Harry finally relented, "I mean, you haven't tried to attack me yet, which is usually a good sign. Who are you, by the way, and how did you do…that?" He gestured simply at her face, an action that only caused Tonks to laugh in reply.

"Well, I'd be more than happy to explain the how of what I just did there, just as soon as you stop squishing my tits," Tonks replied in a dry tone, only now realizing how much her metamorphic abilities had sort of gone wild while being pinned down by the younger man. Her breasts had expanded to comical proportions, something she was quick to remedy as she shrank them down to a smaller—but no less enticing—size.

Harry, meanwhile, also seemed to immediately recognize the implications of their positioning, and leaped back off of her. "Oh, sorry, I wasn't thinking," he quickly sputtered out. Sheepishly, he extended a hand towards her to pull her back to her feet.

"Hey, it's no problem—after all, I actually enjoy that, though usually I try to wait until we get inside the bedroom before letting blokes get around to it," Tonks replied, winking back at him and stifling a laugh at his sheepish and rapidly reddening expression.

"O-oh…okay, then…" Harry replied, dropping his gaze away from her in clear embarrassment. "So, um…who are you, again? You said you're with Dumbledore, right?"

Tonks smirked at Harry's reaction and nodded. "Right you are, Harry—the name's Tonks, and just Tonks, mind, and I'm part of the Order of the Phoenix, a group Dumbledore's whipped up to help handle the return of the Great Noseless One, since pretty much everyone high up in the Ministry is ignoring the truth."

Harry looked back up at Tonks, his face brightening. "Wait, so…you believe me, then? About him being back?"

Tonks nodded, biting her lip a bit at the shocked and raw emotion in Harry's eyes. It was clear to her that the thought of someone else actually believing him was something he'd either never thought about, or had given up on until just now. "Yes, I do—we all do." She paused, and a small smirk slipped onto her face. "And I'd be happy to tell you more about that…though maybe, after you get fully dressed first."

Her eyes drifted downwards, and Harry followed the path of her gaze, only to immediately yelp in surprise. In his hurry to react to the possible home invasion, Harry had forgotten his state of dress he'd been in back in his room. As it was so unbearably hot these days, he had only been wearing a pair of oversized briefs, the waistband of which had been pulled tight and tied so they didn't fall off of him.

Blushing with embarrassment once more, Harry quickly turned and bolted into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. "S-sorry!" he shouted through the door. "I wasn't exactly expecting company when you showed up! Just give me a minute, alright?"

"Oh no worries," Tonks replied, calling right back. She then smirked to herself, a rather devious thought slipping into her mind. And, ever quick to act on her impulses, she cast a silent spell that made the door semi-transparent on her side, so that she got a good view into Harry's room. "Take all the time you need…"

Inside the room, she found more evidence to Hermione's claims about Harry's upbringing, as well as another point to add to her growing list of reasons to lightly murder the Dursleys when the Order wasn't looking. While the rest of the house was immaculately clean and composed, the inside of Harry's room was a den of dust and rubbish. It looked as though the room doubled as storage for whatever the Dursleys' boy broke, with a busted up bicycle, a smashed TV set, and a crumpled computer standing out the most to her at the moment. She couldn't see the rest of the furniture in the room from here, but she assumed it was in a similar shabby state.

Sighing, Tonks merely filed her findings away to the back of her mind and turned her attention back to her target. She licked her lips once more as she got a good look at his lean and Quidditch-toned figure. While he was a bit more on the shorter and skinnier side still, it was clear that he worked hard, as she could see hard and firm muscles moving over his chest and in his arms as he moved about, cleaning his room up a bit and grabbing a change of clothes.

Tonks' eyes drifted downward, and she bit her lip. Seemed as though his muscles weren't the only parts of him that were hard and firm…

Mmm, very nice, and not bad for his age, either, Tonks thought to herself, watching eagerly as she saw Harry strip out of the boxers and pull a new pair on. Tonksie, you hit the jackpot big time.

It was as Harry turned around, though, that Tonks was dragged out of her lustful thoughts by an image that made her stomach flip, and not in a good way. There, clear as day, were well around a dozen long white markings that crisscrossed his back. Most were long and thin, and curved at the ends, but a few looked rough and ragged, as though the skin had been torn in the past.

Oh Harry…what have you been through…?

Harry, meanwhile, was trying to work through the odd situation he found himself in. It wasn't every day, after all, that a strange and beguiling older woman suddenly showed up outside his bedroom and flirted with him. Usually, whenever strange women showed up outside his bedroom, it was only to tell him to come downstairs to cook dinner, or wailing about one of his fellow 'freaks' showing up unexpectedly and driving her insane. So, yes, this was very odd, and Harry didn't really know what to make of it.

There was also the fact that this woman—Tonks, as she'd asked to be referred by—claimed to be there on Dumbledore's orders. He hadn't heard much from the headmaster since summer had started, but what little mail he had received had mostly mentioned how he shouldn't linger far from the Dursleys. None of it had mentioned this secret organization Tonks had mentioned, nor had it mentioned him sending one of the Order's members over to check up on him. It was all more than a little suspicious.

Of course, she'd also said that she believed him about Voldemort having come back, and she seemed genuine about it, too. Which was saying something, because according to what little he could find in the news that Hedwig brought him, the Wizarding World as a whole was essentially calling him a lunatic over the whole situation. To openly side with him on the matter would likely only be met with ridicule and disgrace, something that too many in the Wizarding World apparently feared more than a literal Dark Lord.

So, either she was telling the truth about being part of this secret order…or she believed him because she was for the other side.

Harry sighed, pulling on one of Dudley's oversized t-shirts and glancing over at Hedwig's empty cage. He wished she were here to talk to. He always seemed to be able to think his thoughts through a bit more clearly when his familiar was near. That, and the owl wasn't afraid to make her opinion known, usually by way of a bite from her beak or a cuffing to the back of his head from her wing.

Unfortunately for him, though, he'd just sent her out for a bit of exercise and hunting. Knowing Hedwig, she wouldn't be back for another half-hour or so. So, Harry was left to his own skills in perception and insight to decide his best course of action.

Brilliant.

As Harry began to approach the door again, Tonks quickly cancelled the spell she'd cast and shifted her metamorphic abilities to hide the blush she was certain was spread clear across her face at her personal peep show. Another wicked thought dashed across her mind as he began to open the door, and so she expanded her breast size again and leaned forward to arch her back in a stretch.

The effect was immediate, as Harry took barely a step out of the bedroom and froze, his eyes going wide. "Whoa…" he mumbled softly, unintentionally. Tonks, however, heard it, and her lips twisted up into a self-satisfied smirk as she relaxed down from the stretch and smirked back at Harry.

"Hey again, Harry, good to see you're finally dressed," she lightly teased, giving him a quick once over. She didn't know what to think about the outrageously oversized t-shirt and jeans. Tonks supposed she could just assume it was a fashion statement of some kind, but after what she'd seen so far, she wasn't certain it was of his own volition.

Harry flushed in embarrassment and nodded back to Tonks. "Uh, right…so, you said you wanted to talk to me about this…Order?"

Tonks nodded. "Of course—though, we should probably sit down for this, I have a feeling this might be a bit of a discussion. Mind if we head into your room?" She paused to flash Harry a grin and added, "Or, we could head down to the couch in the living room, I'm flexible either way."

She winked, and held back a laugh as she saw Harry's face light up with a bright red blush. "N-no, the bedroom's fine!" he replied hastily, stepping back and holding the door wide open for Tonks to walk through.

"My, such a gentleman," Tonks lightly teased, winking again at Harry before walking through.

As she'd seen earlier, the bedroom was a mess of ruined objects left and right. She hadn't had a clear picture before—the spell only made the bedroom door semi-transparent, after all—but now that she was in the room she was certain that the amount of rubbish that had been left in here by the Dursleys was absolutely appalling. At the other end of the room, she could see Harry's bed, though she used the term loosely, as it was barely more than a box spring on a frame with a stained and worn mattress on top.

Harry shuffled awkwardly beside her. "I know, it's a mess. The Dursleys don't really care either way, so I just sort of leave it as is. Sorry if it's a bit of an eyesore."

"Oh no, it's fine, Harry," Tonks replied, smiling calmly back at him, before turning her attention back to the room. "Although, you're right about one thing. This room truly is an eyesore, not to mention just a shoddy mess of things." Smirking, she looked back at Harry and drew her wand. "How about I switch things up a bit?"

To Tonks' surprise, though, Harry's face turned ashen pale, and his expression changed into one of frantic worry for a moment. "No, you can't!" he blurted out. "You can't use magic here, I'll get expelled!"

Nymphadora blinked, then slowly lowered her wand, cocking an eyebrow upwards as she turned back to face Harry again. "What do you mean, you'll get expelled? I'd be the one doing the magic."

"I know, I know," Harry replied, looking more than a bit ruffled over it, "but for some reason, whenever anyone uses magic in this house—and I do mean anyone, Tonks—I'm always the one that gets blamed for it. A few years back, even, there was this house elf that popped in and tried to make me not be able to go to Hogwarts, and he made one of my aunt's cakes float over and land on one of her guests, and I got a letter saying that it had been me, and that I had used up one of my warnings!"

The frown on Tonks' face grew as Harry spoke, and after a moment she shook her head firmly. "That's not how the trace is supposed to work, though," she muttered, looking back up at Harry, "It's not supposed to read all of the magic in the area that everyone uses—if it were like that, people would be getting warning letters left and right. And it certainly shouldn't be picking up when a house elf was the one using magic!"

"I'm just saying what I know!" Harry quickly replied back, throwing his arms into the air.

"I know, I know," Tonks replied, unintentionally mimicking Harry from just a moment earlier, "I'm just trying to figure this out. Now, normally the trace is placed on your wand—each wand at Ollivander's has a trace imbedded in it, and once you form a bond with that wand, the trace activates as long as you're under seventeen years old. That's how it normally works, at least."

Tonks frowned, thinking quietly to herself, before looking up and snapping her fingers. "I've got it! It was the house elf!" Looking back at Harry, she smiled. "If the house elf was trying to make you get that warning letter, then he likely messed with your wand's trace so it was temporarily bonded to him."

Harry frowned as he thought over what Tonks said. In a way, it did make sense. The only warning letter he'd received had been from Dobby making the cake float, and compared to the other things he'd done since reentering the Wizarding World, it was surprising he hadn't received more. Hell, there had been the whole debacle with Aunt Marge back during the summer before his third year—something that had required Aurors come to actually repair the house, deflate his aunt, and Oblivate anyone who had witnessed it—and yet he was still a free wizard.

Well…as free as one gets when you were Harry Potter.

"I guess that makes sense," Harry finally replied, looking back up at Tonks with a small frown. "Still, I don't think you should chance it. And really, I've been living in this room for the past few years, I really don't mind the mess too much."

"Well I do," Tonks replied, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she looked over the ruined furniture and random rubbish surrounding the room. "Honestly, you shouldn't have to live among trash like this to begin with. Just trust me on this, Harry—let me help you."

Harry looked up at Tonks, and the pink-haired woman was staring at him with genuine softness and kindness in her eyes. It was a look and an emotion that Harry wasn't all that used to receiving from someone else, least of all the beautiful mysterious woman that had suddenly and inexplicably shown up in his life just a few minutes ago.

Finally, after a moment of silent deliberation, Harry nodded and gestured to the shabby room they were in. "Go ahead, knock yourself out," he replied.

Nymphadora Tonks smirked back at him and winked. "No thanks, I'll leave that job to you, if you'd like."

Before Harry could make another spluttering reply, Tonks walked forward until she was standing in what she felt was the center of the bedroom. She glanced around slowly, taking stock of everything she could see, the wand in her hand slowly spinning and dancing between her fingers as she thought. Then, after what seemed like ages of silence, Tonks turned and pointed her wand over at one of the larger piles of rubbish that had been filling a nearby corner.

In a flash of bright light, the pile was completely gone, banished to someplace else that Tonks would worry more about later. She saw Harry wince when the spell had been cast, but after a moment he seemed to relax, and he nodded back to her.

Flashing Harry a smile in return, Tonks turned to the rest of the bedroom and began slinging banishing and cleaning spells as though she were in a duel with a living bedroom. Piles of trash and Dudley's broken toys and gifts from past birthdays all disappeared from the room, one after another. The walls and floors were cleaned, and the floorboards almost seemed to have a new coat of wax on them, making them gleam in a way that Harry had never seen before in his room.

Feeling satisfied with the work she'd done with the trash and the filth, Tonks then turned her attention to the bed. She paused to think over what exactly she wanted to do, before smirking and spinning the wand in her hand in a quick flourish. In a flash of light, the rusty and musty bed was gone, replaced by an immaculate queen-sized four-poster, similar in design to the ones that filled the dorms back at Hogwarts, but larger and with even softer blankets and sheets.

It was a very nice piece of work, if she did say so herself.

When she finished fixing up the desk and the desk chair sitting off in another corner of the room, the metamorphmagus finally sighed and plopped down onto the bed, bouncing for a moment as she caught her breath. "Alright, maybe I almost did knock myself over that," she muttered, shooting Harry a sheepish smile.

Harry stared around his bedroom in shock—never before had it looked this nice, probably not since before the Dursleys had Dudley, at least. He turned back to Tonks and shook his head, his face splitting into a grin. "That was wicked!"

Tonks blushed and smiled, shrugging nonchalantly back at Harry. "Well, what can I say? I'm a bit of a natural when it comes to these sorts of things." Grinning, she hopped off of the bed and took a step towards him. "And hey, look. Someone used magic, and you didn't get blamed for it! See, told you there was nothing t—"

SCREEEKK!

Tonks and Harry both jumped at the high-pitched shriek that suddenly cut through them as a large horned owl suddenly flew through the open window. It flew in a circle over both their heads for a second before it finally released the letter that it had been holding in its talons. It let out another sharp, piercing shriek again and then dove out the window, disappearing back out into Privet Drive once more.

Harry and Tonks watched the owl fly off, before turning to stare at the letter it had left behind. It was a glossy purple envelope, the shade of which Tonks was intimately familiar with already. As if the shade wasn't hint enough, the abnormally large wax seal with a stylistic "M" stamped on it certainly gave it away.

Beside her, Tonks heard Harry swallow hard.

Slowly, Tonks reached down and picked up the envelope. She glanced over at Harry—already, the dark-haired boy's smiling face had returned to that ashen, worried look that she'd seen on him when she'd first suggested magicking away his mess. She bit her lip, then turned and opened the envelope. The parchment inside was pure white, and in a crisp and cold typewriter font was written the following message:

Dear Mr. Potter,

We have received intelligence that you performed, in sequence, three banishment charms, five cleaning charms, one feat of advanced transfiguration, and two mid-level repair charms at twenty minutes past four this day in a Muggle-inhabited area.

This is a breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery as per Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy. As this is your second official warning, your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9 a.m. on the fourteenth of July.

Hoping you are well,

Yours sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk

Improper Use of Magic Office

Ministry of Magic

Tonks stared at the sheet of paper for a minute longer, blinking in surprise. Then, sighing deeply, she turned and handed the letter over to Harry for him to read, while she vocalized all of her thoughts into one simple, one-hundred percent sincere comment.

"Oh bollocks."