AN: Day jobs are blah. If yours is equally so, let us commiserate together in RT fanfiction!

The following chapter is shorter than usual – I made the last minute decision to add the latter half of this chapter to the start of the next. Chapter Eleven should be out in May/June, and many thanks and hugs to my reviewers and followers for your support and words of encouragement.

On another note, I've noticed a bit of confusion regarding Remus's lycanthropy (and it is entirely my fault for not being clear!). Remus IS a werewolf, but was bitten at a slightly later stage in his life (not as a young child) and this story explores what might have been different if that had happened. I've edited the author's note in Chapter One to highlight this Sorry for any confusion!

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter…that is all.

Trigger Warning:Mild description of violence and death.

Chapter Ten

The Mole

He knew Shaz couldn't tell what he was.

Remus was always careful – he took potions to mask his scent, on the off-chance that he ever came across another werewolf while at work. He and Kingsley had spent years perfecting the recipe and no werewolf he ever met had noticed anything unusual about him.

Then, why was he so nervous? He needed to calm his heart rate, or Shaz would realise something was amiss. In fact, it might already be too late – the younger wizard was looking him up and down, pale eyes too focused for comfort.

"Something the matter, Auror?"

Remus gave what he hoped was a careless shrug. "Just curious as to why you aren't more concerned about your incarceration. This is normally the time when people start demanding legal representation."

Shaz leaned back again. "Really? I see no reason to be alarmed: innocent until proven otherwise, and all that." He closed his eyes, settling into his chair. "Could someone get us a cup of tea? I'm parched." One eye flickered open again. "Maybe send Pinkie in with it."

It seemed they were going to get nothing more out of him at this stage. Remus stood and let his partner pass him, before following her outside.

"Well, that was pure weird," Proudfoot said, the second the door closed behind them.

"Yeah…it was." Remus said. His hands were shaking, so he shoved them into his trouser pockets.

"He's right you know." Proudfoot nodded at the interview room. "Without more evidence or confessions from the others, we've got nothing. He'll bloody walk out of here in a few weeks."

Remus took a deep breath and blew it out again, then leaned over to a nearby cubicle.

"Paisley, could you get hold of Ted Tonks? He's our new department healer."

"Sure thing, sir," the young Auror replied.

After he left, Proudfoot turned to Remus. "What's this about then? You feeling alright?"

"I'm fine. But...I want a blood test done on Shaz."

"A blood test? Whatever for?"

"Just a hunch."

Proudfoot stared at him. "I assume you're going to tell me what that hunch is. And before you ask me to leave it, may I remind you that I rarely do."

Remus gave a huff of amusement and lowered his voice. "Didn't you find it a bit odd that Shaz seemed perfectly content to stay down in the cells for the next month?"

"Yeah, but he's probably a lunatic, like half the criminals out there. Daft in the head, like."

"Possibly, but I mean, he seemed almost pleased about it."

"Maybe he's got a nagging spouse he'd like a break from." She glanced through the two-way mirror at the blonde wizard, who was seemingly taking a nap on the table. "What are you thinking, Remus?"

"That the next full moon is in twenty-one days."

Proudfoot's head snapped back to him. "You think he's a werewolf?"

"Yes."

"If he were a werewolf, he'd have a brand on his arm."

Remus considered changing his mind, keeping his mouth shut. After all, Shaz was an unregistered werewolf, just like him. Who was Remus to destroy another man's reputation – another man's life? Even though he knew Shaz was a dark wizard, that he would most likely harm anyone who got in his way, that he had intended to kill Remus in The Leaky Cauldron, he couldn't help the swell of shame that rose up inside him as he answered Proudfoot.

"If Shaz is an unregistered werewolf, no-one would think of checking for lycanthropy, or of putting him in the RCMC cells, which are more secure. Whereas if we put him in the MLE cells –"

"– they wouldn't hold him. He could transform and break out on the full moon." Proudfoot let out a low whistle, gazing back into the interview room. "Lunatic, I called it."

"No," Remus said, mostly to himself, "I think he knows exactly what he's doing."

(-)(-)(-)

"Are you going to eat that?"

Tonks prodded at a large piece of chicken in her curry, before sighing and putting down her fork. "I just can't believe he'd do something like this."

"C'mon Tonks, it's not that bad," Mattie said, leaning over to spoon half of Tonks' curry onto her plate. "It's not like your dad has enrolled himself in Auror training. He's only the new department healer; you'll barely see him."

"That's not the point! Dad's always been supportive of me joining the squad; he knows how important it is to me. I just don't get it…" Tonks crossed her arms with a sigh. "Just when I'd started to make headway with Lupin as well…He must think my whole family are nutters."

"Oh sod Lupin!" Mattie said, through a mouthful of chicken. "You need to stop worrying about work so much and have fun for once." She leaned in close. "I bet you haven't had sex since Hogwarts."

"I have, actually," Tonks replied, although internally she cringed at the memory of the incredibly awkward one-night-stand she'd had two weeks after graduation. Despite being a professional Quidditch player, he had needed more than a little instruction on how to find and catch the snitch.

"Still, you're a bloody Auror! They have a reputation for getting the ride every other night. You're letting the side down by being so tame."

Tonks rolled her eyes. If she was being honest, she really did need a night out; it had been weeks since she had seen her friends from Hogwarts. She felt drained, emotionally and physically. Maybe Mattie had a point...

Letting her eyes wander over the clusters of people milling around the busy cafeteria, Tonks caught sight of Lupin's girlfriend, Faye, standing nearby. She looked annoyingly well-rested as she chatted to the head of the RCMU – an intimidating and impressively scarred man by the name of Francis Slaughter. How on earth did she manage to be at the top of her field and have time to maintain a perfect manicure? Tonks looked mournfully down at her own chipped purple nail polish that she had been meaning to replace for two weeks.

Mattie threw down her fork. "That's it, we're going out tonight. And before you protest, you did promise you would after your exam – which you didn't even do, by the way!"

Tonks chewed her lip and then nodded. Sod the nail polish. "Yeah, alright – let's go out."

"YES!"

Mattie threw her arms up in triumph, as she turned in her seat to scan their surroundings. "Oy, Robbie! C'mere for a minute!"

A young man with dark, spiked hair got up from a nearby table. As he walked over, Tonks took in his ripped jeans, dragonhide jacket and quirky smile, and felt her mood pick up instantly.

Mattie really did know how to pick them.

(-)(-)(-)

While Moody's office was full of truth sensors and dark detection devices that eyed him up every time he entered, Remus felt more comfortable there than in Scrimgeour's office. As the Deputy Head Auror closed the door behind them and moved behind his desk, Remus felt as though he were trapped in a lion's den, being stared down by a particularly calculating hunter.

"How's your mother-in-law, sir?" he asked.

Scrimgeour didn't bat an eye, tossing a roll of parchment to the side. "Dead."

"I'm...sorry to hear that," Remus said.

"Very sorry," Proudfoot echoed.

"Don't be; her suffering was brief."

Remus and Proudfoot looked at one another. Scrimgeour was never the most emotionally open of men – continuing this line of conversation would be pointless and a little disturbing. Proudfoot shrugged and cleared her throat.

"Alright then. You wanted to speak with us, sir?"

Scrimgeour gestured for them to take a seat opposite him. "You've questioned all of the suspects you captured last night?"

"We have," Remus said, "Unfortunately, we haven't been able to elicit any confessions from them yet with regard to the potions operation."

"No matter. They attacked three Aurors in public; we've got multiple assault charges to make them reconsider." Scrimgeour folded his hands together on the desk. "I understand you discovered an unregistered werewolf among them."

"That was Remus's catch," Proudfoot said, nudging her partner. "Don't know how he spots these things."

It had only taken Ted Tonks a few minutes to run the appropriate test on Shaz's blood and pronounce that he was indeed a lycanthrope. But rather than feel relief at preventing a potential attack, Remus felt only shame. He knew it had been the right thing to do, but the right thing brought him little comfort this time.

"Excellent work, Lupin," Scrimgeour said, giving him a rare smile. Well, more a twitch of the upper lip, really. "That could have turned very ugly indeed. As we speak, the werewolf is being transferred to the RCMC cells, and Werewolf Capture Unit Agent Bloomsbury and his junior assistant Whyte are investigating the source of his lycanthropy. With any luck, we may have captured a potential transmitter of the disease."

Remus merely nodded, hoping his Occlumency skills were still up to scratch. He didn't need Scrimgeour poking around in his head right now.

"We still don't know how they knew we were coming," Proudfoot said, mercifully turning the conversation back on track, "The three of us only planned the sting last minute, and Kit was hardly going to tell anyone – it would have been a death sentence for him, whether or not the information was useful to the gang. They never would have let him live or trusted him as a double agent."

"I agree," Scrimgeour said, "There's only one explanation that makes sense."

They all knew what that was, but no one wanted to say it out loud. Because putting it into words would acknowledge it as a reality, and change the cherished stability they had all known since the end of the war.

And yet, not saying it would be worse.

"There's a mole in the Auror Squad," Remus said, heavily.

Scrimgeour nodded, looking suddenly weary as he removed his glasses and polished them. However, when he put them back on, his eyes were alight with composed, but unquestionable, fury.

"Yes. And until we root them out, we keep all aspects of this case between us and the task force. And don't give up the name of your informant to anyone outside of this room."

Remus nodded, but a worrying thought struck him. "What if the spy is in the task force?"

There was an uneasy silence. The task force was made up of long-serving Aurors, many of whom had multiple commendations for bravery. The thought of any of them betraying their comrades was sickening.

Scrimgeour abruptly turned to Proudfoot. "You say you took Paisley with you because he was available. Why was in the office on a Sunday?"

"He had paperwork from the Improper Use of Magic Office that had to be logged by this morning for the Boles trial. He came in to finish it off."

"Why didn't he log it before the weekend?"

"They only released it to him on Sunday morning – there was some cock-up in their records office on Friday," Proudfoot said. "Bunch of nifflers got loose and trashed the place. It took them all weekend to sort the scrolls, since it has to be done without magic. I overheard two of their officers complaining about it in the Atrium this morning."

Scrimgeour appeared satisfied with this explanation and leaned back in his chair, steepling his long fingers together.

"It seems the only person who had no good reason to be at The Leaky Cauldron last night was Nymphadora Tonks."

Remus looked up, startled. "I think it was probably a coincidence that she was there, sir," he said, "She was having dinner with her family."

"Indeed – a perfectly valid reason at that. Tell me about the spell she performed."

"The Individual Anti-Disapparation/Incarcerous Jinx?"

"A spell she hasn't been taught yet, I believe."

Remus felt his heart give a hard thump. He knew what Scrimgeour was implying – what he himself would probably have thought if he hadn't been in The Leaky Cauldron that night. So, no one in the room was more shocked than Remus, when he found himself saying:

"The recruits have learned the Individual Anti-Disapparation Jinx, but not the particular combination that she performed. Still, Tonks told me she taught herself for practice and I see no reason to doubt her at present."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Proudfoot's wide-eyed expression. Even Scrimgeour seemed surprised, although he was more amused than anything.

"I take your point Remus. But, I'm afraid I do see a reason to doubt her. When would she have had the time to even learn the spell? I know the recruits' schedule and it is unforgiving. It allows very little time for a social life, let alone extra personal development of complex spellwork - unless she had help from someone who knew what they were doing."

"I agree with Remus, sir," Proudfoot said, "She could have learned it herself. She's a very bright witch and she works hard in class – right?"

Remus just nodded, not liking the tight feeling that was forming in his chest. Scrimgeour raised an eyebrow, obviously not pleased to be challenged on this.

"I had, misgivings, shall we say, about her appointment to the squad, but Alastor was quite insistent." His eyes met Remus's. "You yourself voted for her."

"I did," Remus said, and his heart gave another hard thump as he remembered how unsure he had been in his decision. Was he even sure of her now?

As if Scrimgeour could sense the direction of his thoughts, he continued.

"While I trust you never would have admitted her without being certain that her character was different to that of her aunt and cousin, the Blacks are notorious for their ability to deceive. Until we can prove or disprove Nymphadora's involvement, one way or the other, she is to be kept away from this case."

(-)(-)(-)

After they left the office, Remus and Proudfoot silently walked side by side down the corridor, to the balcony that overlooked the Atrium. Leaning on the railing, Remus watched the people below: Ministry officials, visitors, reporters. It was never silent: always a quiet rumble of feet, the uneven tremor of voices, the swift and steady swish of memos as they glided through the air.

Finally, Proudfoot broke the silence that had fallen between them.

"I don't want to believe it, Remus," she said, "And an accusation like this could be damaging. Tonks is showing real promise as an Auror – I'd even say she could be the strongest in her class, if she could stop falling over her own feet." She straightened up. "What do you think?"

"Honestly? I don't know what to think," Remus said, and he meant it. A day earlier, he might have quickly bought the idea that Tonks was a spy, but now…

He had felt some kind of strange connection with her in The Leaky Cauldron, almost as though they could be...allies? Friends, even? He didn't know what, but there was something there. Some connection that was elusive and tangible and familiar all at once. The thought of it frightened him and he had to breathe more deeply to control it. He couldn't take another betrayal like Sirius; he couldn't let his guard down around her – spy or no spy.

"There could be other ways they knew we were coming," Proudfoot was saying. "Spies in Diagon Alley, tracking spells. I doubt the only possibility is an eighteen year old trainee who -"

She abruptly cut herself off. Curious, Remus looked back at Proudfoot, to see her staring past him, over the balcony.

"What's the matter?"

But Proudfoot just shook her head and pointed to something down in the Atrium. Remus looked over the railing to see Tonks chatting and laughing with a young man in a dragonhide jacket.

"Yes Proudfoot, that is Tonks," he said. "But I doubt she can hear us all the way up here."

"No, you don't understand. The lad with her is Robbie Whyte, the cadet from the WCU. The one that's been assigned to assist on Shaz's case."

Remus straightened up too. "What? But that case was just sent downstairs, she couldn't possibly know who it's been assigned to yet."

"Exactly, she shouldn't know. And yet here she is, barely thirty minutes later..."

Remus watched as Tonks laughed at something the young agent said and moved closer to him.

"Maybe she knows him?" he said, "Maybe he's a friend?"

"Or maybe Scrimgeour was right," Proudfoot said, her expression twisting. "Maybe we were played."

Down below, Tonks looked up and smiled at them.

(-)(-)(-)

August 31st 1991

The weeks that followed the duel at The Leaky Cauldron were breathlessly hectic, but satisfying.

After a raucous night out in Clapham with her Hogwarts friends and a gang of junior agents from the RCMC, Tonks started dating Robbie. Her training schedule didn't leave much time for it, but they generally got to see each other two nights a week. She was glad of at least one good thing in her life.

Because work had become extremely weird.

Edelia Proudfoot, whom Tonks had always admired as a tough and utterly brilliant female Auror, had become suddenly cold with her. Previously, whenever Tonks asked for help or advice, the older woman would happily sit down with her and talk her through whatever issue she was having. Now, she was always busy and irritable when Tonks asked, yet had time to advise Walden on his charm-work.

Deputy Scrimgeour had also changed his behaviour towards her, constantly finding reasons to send her away from briefings early or 'check in' on their training sessions, his tawny eyes flickering to her constantly.

The only consolation – if one could call it that – was that Lupin treated her the same way he always had: with pleasant indifference. She had hoped for a different outcome after their shared experience – that he would warm to her a little, or even tell her what he honestly thought of her. In The Leaky Cauldron, she had felt something between them; a weird connection of sorts, a similar energy. Maybe she had imagined it, but she was sure he felt it too – every now and then when they spoke in class, she could see something in his eyes that hadn't been there before. So, why was he still pushing her back?

Sometimes she imagined going into his office and forcing him to talk openly to her. Of telling him that what Sirius had done hurt her too, of course it had, and that he could talk to her about it. That he could trust her with his thoughts.

But each time she found herself heading that way, she told herself that maybe keeping people at a distance was his manner at work. After all, he got on well with everyone, but only had a few close friends. Perhaps she was simply overthinking things.

Sometimes though, he would look at her with the strangest expression – as though she had disappointed him somehow.

"Maybe you need to impress them," Robbie suggested, one Friday night as they shared a pizza. "You've shown you have skill, now you need to prove you can handle the work on your own. That's how I won over my boss. Caught a werewolf who was working illegally while I was visiting my parents in Manchester."

"I'm not sure if I'm going to stumble across a dark wizard down at my granny's," Tonks said, picking up another slice and plucking off the mushrooms. She hated them, but Robbie insisted on ordering them every time. "And even if I did, I'm not qualified to arrest until I finish training."

Robbie shrugged and stretched out his legs. "The Auror Squad has too many rules. If we see a dark creature doing something they shouldn't, we bring them in, no questions asked. Bringing in that werewolf probably saved more than a few lives."

Tonks chewed her slice, swallowing her sarcastic response. As gorgeous and fun as Robbie was, he was very black and white when it came to the laws governing dark creatures. But then again, she reminded herself, aside from her Defence Against the Dark Arts classes at Hogwarts, and the few articles and case files she'd read since, she didn't know all that much about werewolves. She wasn't sure she had ever even met one.

"What do you mean the werewolf was working illegally?" she asked, instead. "Were they selling dark charms or something?"

"Nah, she was flogging jewellery down near the Muggle university. Told me some sob story about wanting to save money for a new experimental potion being brewed by some German bloke."

Tonks nearly dropped her pizza. "There's a cure for lycanthropy?" She hadn't read about that anywhere; it should have made front page news!

Robbie shook his head, swallowing a mouthful of butterbeer. "No, I don't think there can ever be a cure. It's a potion that supposedly allows them to keep their 'human' minds after they transform on the full moon." He placed his bottle down on the table with a clink. "It seems too far-fetched me."

"But if it was true? If the ministry invested in that, then it could massively improve relations between wizards and werewolves. Then –"

"They won't. Potion or no potion, werewolves will still be dark creatures, just dressed up as something else."

"They're still people," Tonks said hotly, "When they're not transformed, they're still people."

Robbie's expression softened a little and he wiped his hands on a napkin before sitting back again. "Tonks, I've seen the things werewolves can do. Been to crime scenes where there's barely anything left of the victims. You know they kill just for the fun of it – not because they need food or to protect themselves, but because they enjoy it? I don't see how they can be any different when they're in their human form; the monster is still in there."

"There's darkness in all of us," Tonks argued back, "Most Death Eaters were witches and wizards."

"I agree. And maybe some werewolves manage to resist it, but they're the exception, not the rule." Robbie caught her hand and held it in both of his. "I don't make the law Tonks. I just uphold it, same as you. The WCU have protected the public from werewolves for decades – we wouldn't be needed if there was no danger from them."

Tonks could only shrug, still uncomfortable with his stance. She knew plenty of people who had opinions on werewolves – that they were naturally evil, deceitful and vicious. Assumptions not unlike those about her own family and their streak of insanity.

Personally, she thought most of the lore around werewolves was bollocks – the wolfish mind could hardly have influence over the person. It was just a horrible curse, like so many others.

When Robbie spoke again, she nearly choked on a sip of her butterbeer.

"Lupin's dad was killed by a werewolf, you know, when he was a teenager. Rumour is he found his old man's body in the forest, all mangled and broken. Slaughter says Lupin knows more about werewolves now than half the WCU. I'm surprised he didn't go into that line of work instead."

Tonks barely heard the rest. She felt ill, imagining her own father lost and terrified, trying to fend off a creature fuelled by rage and dark magic. Of him dying out in the woods, alone, screaming for help as a wolf tore at his skin and stole his life.

Then she thought of Lupin, whose eyes were often bright with laughter and good humour, but sometimes shadowed with an emotion so dark that she was afraid to name it.

Suddenly, she didn't feel so much sympathy for werewolves anymore. And even as Robbie leaned over to kiss her, an idea began to take shape in her mind.

AN: Wonder what Tonks is up to... Find out next time! And do leave a review if you have a moment ;)