A massive thanks to Mirabelle P for getting this chapter into shape. You're wonderful xx

The southern outskirts of South Shields was an unassuming and peaceful sort of place. The faded red brick houses were bordered by grey concrete pavement and meagre, patchy front lawns which were doing their best to grow in the sandy soil. Two-up two-down semis stood square and tall on the flat roads in every direction, and even though Sirius could not see the seaside, it felt very near. The air was fresher smelling than even in the country village of Godric's Hollow.

The sky that afternoon did not speak of seaside holidays however, heavy dark clouds that would surely be dumping snow when they arrived further inland rolled across it. It was windy and bitter, and Sirius and Frank were both regretting their diligence as they approached an exposed little house at the end of a humble lane. As they made their way up the front path they pulled their coats tightly around them and bowed their heads against the cold wind whipping in from the North Sea.

This was the home of Guard Archie, Greta Reeves's father, who they had been trying, unsuccessfully, to contact via post or floo in order to gain parental permission for Greta to give her version of the full moon evening to the Aurors. By all accounts this was nothing unusual. The man was apparently a workaholic who barely left his post – something Sirius was very grateful for: Azkaban needed someone dedicated in charge.

As Frank stepped up to knock on the door, Sirius looked around the quiet little street. It was lacking in greenery save the tough looking grass that was sprouting up between the cracks in the pavement. Across the road in a house very similar to the one on whose step they stood, the lacy net curtains twitched and Sirius caught a glimpse of an oversized bottom swathed in a floral housecoat ducking out of sight.

They waited for the door to open. Sirius sincerely hoped that Archie was at home – if they couldn't get him here they'd have to go out to Azkaban to talk to him, something both Frank and Sirius were keen to avoid. It would have been much simpler if they could have written to him at work, but it was against the law to send post owls to Azkaban.

After five minutes with no answer, Frank suggested they try around the back, so the pair of them trudged down the narrow overgrown path that led the way along the side of the house and to the back garden. It was scruffy just like the rest of the place, weeds ran riot in the flower beds and the damp lawn was long enough to wet the hem of Sirius's coat as they walked. For all the sense of abandonment the section gave off, the stand-alone clothesline that was plonked in the middle of the overlong lawn was strewn with towels and row after row of tatty but clean clothes. One of the large towels flapped in the strong wind and Sirius realised they weren't alone in the back yard. A pair of scuffed work boots topped with itchy-looking wool socks were visible as the towel moved.

"Mr Reeves?" Sirius inquired loudly enough for his voice to carry across the lawn against the wind.

The boots moved at his query and a small, weathered man appeared from behind the washing. His wiry, ash-coloured hair caught the wind and billowed about his head like a static grey cloud. His face was heavily lined and the mustard yellow drill shirt he wore made him look sickly pale. Completely at odds with the grim aura the man possessed was a frilly apron tied around his waist.

"That'd be me," Archie said carefully, taking in the Auror uniform, and then looking down at his handful of wooden pegs, as if wondering if he should continue hanging his washing. "How can I help you lads today?" he asked, obviously deciding Sirius and Frank were important enough to give his full attention to.

"I'm Auror Black and this is Auror Longbottom," Sirius said, not sure if he wanted to laugh or be offended at the unusual reception. "We've been trying to get in touch with you for nearly two weeks."

"Have you now?" Archie said, gazing in the direction of the house. "Haven't checked my post in a while, likely why you've had no reply."

"Indeed," said Frank, failing to keep the tone of incredulity from his voice.

Archie tucked his pegs into his apron and shrugged. "Got no one to talk to normally, it's nothing personal, Auror Longbottom. You two want a cuppa?" he added, turning his back on them and crossing the lawn back to the house.

Frank and Sirius stared at each other for a moment before they followed him. Frank seemed to be suffering the same confusion as Sirius was at the man's blasé attitude to Aurors turning up at his house.

"So what is it you want with me?" Archie asked as soon as they were all inside. He stood in a tiny u-shaped kitchen that jutted out from the sitting room. He put an old triangular iron teapot on the hob and prodded beneath it with his wand as he spoke, "There haven't been any break outs, or trouble at work."

"No, it's nothing to do with Azkaban," Sirius said, taking in the sparsely furnished sitting room. A small two-seater sofa stood on the threadbare rug, a coffee table in front of it sported a wireless and a mismatched armchair sat on the other side of it. In stark contrast with the furniture's lack of homely comfort were the walls. Faded framed photographs formed a mosaic across the walls – a younger and cheerful Archie Reeves grinned out at them, a small girl on his shoulders, or hanging from his arm or sat on his knee in nearly every one. A fair-haired women waved from many of them too, kissing an embarrassed-looking Archie on the cheek or accepting a large white daisy from the little girl out in what looked to be the same back yard Sirius and Frank had just exited, although it had a neatly trimmed lawn and flourishing flowerbeds. And in the largest frame nearest Sirius, the woman stood with Archie on the steps of a small church, her hand held up to shield her face from the falling confetti on what was obviously their wedding day.

She was dead Sirius knew. Archie's wife, Greta's mum. Greta had only just survived the attack, but the healers at St Mungo's hadn't been able to save Mrs Reeves. Horrible, Sirius thought, imagining himself in the situation. To him the only thing worse than losing Hermione would have been if Flora had been gone forever too. Lycanthropy would be a small price to pay to get to keep her.

Frank spoke then, and Sirius was glad. Contemplating losing his family was severely distracting. "On the fifth of November your daughter was in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts during the time a criminal act possibly occurred. We want your permission to question her about anything out of the ordinary she may have seen."

"What?" Archie asked, fumbling the mugs as he continued disbelievingly. "I have to tell you it's okay for you to ask her a few questions?" he began to search for teabags, and muttered to himself, "No wonder nothing gets done down there in London." He shut a cupboard door sharply and said with a frown at Frank, "you're Aurors, of course you can talk to her. She's perfectly capable of holding a conversation you know, being nearly twelve years old and all."

"They grow so quickly, don't they?" Sirius said, trying to keep the conversation friendly. Archie was such an odd chap, Sirius really didn't know what to make of him. "Greta happens to be friends with my daughter. She's a first year Gryffindor as well."

"And mine," Frank said.

"Is she?" Archie asked, turning to give them his full attention at last.

"You sound surprised."

Archie nodded slowly. "My Greta, she's not had any friends these last few years, not since… well I'm guessing you know why she was in the hospital that night." Frank and Sirius nodded too. "Awful bloody curse for a little girl," Archie carried on, then he paused, looking a little perplexed. "Your daughters are the same age? Sleep in the dormitory with her?" Both Aurors nodded again. "That doesn't worry you?" Archie asked.

"No," they answered in unison.

"Times have definitely changed," Archie mused, going back to his tea making. "Wouldn't of had it in my day, werewolves with kids, but Greta needs to learn too I suppose."

"Has it been hard raising a girl on your own?" Sirius asked, not considering that this might be a bit too intrusive, he was looking at the happily depicted family all over the walls again, struck anew by the difficult life Archie led. "Merlin knows I couldn't deal with my daughter without my wife's help, girls don't seem to make any sense to me."

Archie met Sirius's eyes at this question, his expression more sincere than anything Sirius had seen from him so far. "It's been alright," he began, but then cursed and quickly hooked the iron kettle from the flaming element. The base was smoking and he hurriedly held it under the tap. The water hissed violently as it hit the bottom. He'd obviously forgotten to fill it before lighting the stove. He replaced it and then continued to talk to Sirius. "I work most of the time, as you found out, and Mrs Mackenzie across the street had Greta most days since she was bitten. Greta's seemed more comfortable on her own since then. But if she has a friend I'm glad for her, nothing worse than being alone. Nothing." His voice was unbearably sad as he finished, and Sirius didn't know how to respond. But before it was necessary, Archie spoke again, back in his no nonsense tone. "Now if that's all, I've got chores to do before I head back out to work."

No tea then? Sirius thought, but Frank's love of efficiency spoke up. "Right, we need you to sign this giving your permission," Frank said as he withdrew the consent form for underage interrogations from inside his coat pocket. "It's normal procedure for a parent or guardian to be present when we question underage witches and wizards. Is there a day and time that suits you? We can conduct the interview at either Hogwarts or the Ministry, whichever is most convenient."

"I'm afraid I won't be able to get away from work," Archie said as he took the piece of parchment and dug a beaten up quill from a drawer in the kitchen. "The place falls apart if I'm gone longer than a few hours. The Ministry can provide an advocate, can't they?" he glanced at the pair of them with his quill suspended over the form. "They do it for the scum out there, surely that could be arranged for Greta?"

"Yes," Frank said. "Of course."

"Good," Archie said and scribbled on the dotted line. He handed the parchment back to Frank and said, "I'm sure Greta will tell me all about it at Christmas." Then he extinguished the element fire in the stove and strode across the room to the door to the back yard. Sirius thought they were being seen out, but instead of holding the door open for them in a very clear gesture of "it's time to go", he stepped out onto the porch.

They followed Archie back out into the garden. He was back at the washing line by the time they reached the path. "What do you know about Wesley Fawley?" Sirius asked. Even if he seemed an unlikely poisoner, there was no harm in finding out a little bit more about him.

Archie paused in his pegging. "The inspector?" he asked sharply.

"Yes, he came to see you that morning, didn't he?" Sirius noticed the shirt Archie was hanging had distinctly singed cuffs, no doubt from the braziers that lit the battlements at Azkaban.

"Yeah, he did," Archie confirmed. "We have quarterly inspections out there, he's fussy but never finds a problem with my ward, always up to scratch. Lives not far from here actually, on the way to the dock."

"Do you know if he has any strong views?" Frank asked.

Archie gave a little snort. "Only that incorrectly indexed equipment should be a punishable crime."

"Right, thanks," said Frank.

If someone was to ask Remus, he'd say his view of the world was unchanged by his fame, he'd say he was humble and expected to be treated like everyone else. Well, he would have said that until he managed to get on the young Auror Tonks's bad side. She was still giving him a rather cold shoulder after her first night of guard duty. The night he'd implied that he was ungrateful for her protection, and by extension, the personal time she was giving up to sit in his boring little sitting room.

As he hid in his bedroom for the third evening in a row – he'd decided to just keep out of her way, and give her no cause to fix him with her surprisingly stern glare – he found himself wishing that she would remember that he was the wizard who killed Voldemort, and therefore should be allowed to have one little accidental ill-mannered blunder, especially since he prided himself on being courteous at all times, and since he had, you know, saved wizard kind.

But Auror Tonks seemed to be the exception to the rule. For a decade he'd had women doing just about anything to gain his attention. There had been the floo coordinates scribbled on napkins slipped into his hand in bars, along with suggestive enticements whispered in his ear. Or, the different sets of hotel room keys which had been not-so-subtly dropped into his pocket at the drinks following the many conferences he'd spoken at in the late eighties. He was actually a little bit ashamed of how many of these offers he'd accepted. But any other man in his twenties would have done the same. After all, just because a chap favoured cardigans and non-fiction reading didn't mean he was dead.

Anyway, the point was that Remus was now stuck in the company of a very irritable body guard, and he found it annoyingly ironic that she seemed to be one of the few that didn't give a stuff that he was famous and clever.

He sat in the chair squeezed into the corner of his bedroom, trying to read and relax. Imperius deflection training with the seventh years had been a very exhausting double period that afternoon. Remus supposed that he should just be grateful that his guard, while grumpy, was at least quiet, or that is, she normally was. Tonight he could hear little frustrated huffs and the pages of whatever long report she was working on snapping and cracking loudly as she turned each one furiously.

Remus was beginning to feel like Auror Tonks was over-reacting a little. Either that or she was annoyed at something other than him. As he pondered this idea Remus became aware that the sound of angry page turning had ceased. He listened more carefully but there was nothing but silence. Auror Tonks must have given up work for the night.

Remus had begun to doze in his chair when it happened. An almighty crashing thud as something heavy hit the stone floor out in the sitting room. Remus shot to his feet – had someone broken in? Had he slept through the sounds of a scuffle in the next room? Was that the crash of Auror Tonks being bested? Remus was shocked to find himself so frightened but the pounding of his heart and his clammy grasp on his wand definitely suggested fear.

Remus crept up to the entrance to the sitting room, taking care not to make a sound and peered through the gap in the barely ajar door. He half expected to meet his would-be assassin at the door, but there was no one. His sitting room was quite dim, lit only by a cluster of candles balanced on his book-stack coffee table, and Tonks was nowhere in sight. He couldn't even see any evidence of the thing that had made the loud crash. Had he imagined it?

There was paperwork spread all over the sofa cushions and two enormous textbooks, one propped open on the other. It looked like Tonks had been studying before she vanished into thin air. Auror training did involve exams, Remus thought as he continued to gaze around the room for any sign as to where she had gone. He remembered Sirius and James whinging about them in their youth – although back in '79, when his friends had sat their first end of year tests, things were a little different. The massive looming threat of Voldemort was pretty good revision encouragement.

Remus's heart had slowed a little as he moved from the doorway. There didn't seem to be an immediate threat, although Tonks leaving her post without informing him was a bit worrying. Before he could take another step however there was a rustle in the furthest corner from him. He thought he saw something move out of the corner of his eye but all was still when he looked in that direction. Then two little ornaments wobbled on his bookshelf a metre or so from the corner. He lifted his wand again, was he not alone after all? As if in answer to his silent question the three steadily burning candles on precarious book-stack coffee table stuttered. Just a draft? he wondered for a second – then the books tilted to the left very obviously and there was a muttered curse as all three wax dripping candles slid to the floor. The liquid wax extinguished their flames as they fell, plunging the room into darkness.

A second before he murmured the incantation himself, a wand tip flared on the other side of the room and illuminated a sheepish looking Auror Tonks.

"Wotcher," she said, sighing heavily as she magicked the books back into place and sent the candles floating into the air, lit once more. "You should really use a hover charm on these all the time," she said, "dangerous having them balanced there."

"Probably," Remus agreed, perplexed by the strangeness of her behaviour. "What were you doing wandering around invisible? Made me think I was going mental."

"Trying to practice stealth and tracking," she said self-consciously. "Fat lot of good it will do me though." She flopped down on the sofa with a soft thump. "I can change my face in a second but sneak up on someone?" She shook her head slightly, and a humourless smile touched her lips, "I might as well be a fucking elephant."

"A very tiny elephant," Remus replied quickly, and despite her dispiritedness Tonks's sardonic smile softened a bit. Remus was relieved. "Do you think that because you're so used to being able to hide in plain sight, sneakiness has never been required?"

The Auror nodded. "That, or I have seven left feet and partial blindness." Remus chuckled and Tonks gave a little depreciating shrug. "The reason doesn't matter though, I still have to pass. Moody will be so disappointed in me if I don't. Not to mention Sirius will give me shit for weeks".

"He is relentless when he wants to be," Remus agreed sympathetically. "Maybe I could help?" he suggested. "When's your exam?"

"Two weeks," she said, looking unsure. "You don't have to though…"

"You're stuck here during your study time, it's the least I can do," he smiled encouragingly.

"Are you good at Stealth though? No offence," she added quickly, "I just mean that while duelling Riddle is pretty impressive, you didn't have to sneak up on him, did you?"

"Fair question," Remus said lightly, racking his brain for an example of stealthy ability to give her. He grinned when he thought of one. "I spent my Hogwarts years almost exclusively in the company Sirius Black and James Potter, and yet my detention statistics are less than a quarter of each of theirs. I'm good at not getting caught."

Tonks laughed at his proud grin. "Okay," she agreed, "if you think you can help a lost cause then go for it."

"Er, right now?" Remus asked, surprised to be put on the spot.

"Well, maybe next time," she said looking at her watch. "I've got a 7 am briefing to get up for and only your lumpy settee to sleep on."

Remus still felt quite bad about her being forced to sleep on his sofa. He'd offered to switch places more than once but, as Tonks had pointed out, if someone was going to break into his room they'd come in through the door or the window, and both were in the sitting room. So she needed to be there.

"You're welcome to transfigure it," he said, "I'm not attached to its lumpiness, just a bit lazy."

"I already did," Tonks admitted glibly. "I was just trying to make you feel sorry for me."

Remus fought down the sudden irrepressible urge to grin at her cheeky shrug to reply dryly, "My heart bleeds." Then he retreated back into his room, "Goodnight Tonks."

Tonks shifted all her work from the sofa to the floor and pulled a blanket from her backpack. "Night Remus," she returned quietly, just before he closed the door.

^V^

Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed last chapter, I appreciate even the smallest acknowledgment of the time and effort it takes to write a decent fic,

I'm so grateful to all of you xx