Disclaimer: Roses are red, violets are blue...I no own, so you no sue.

Rating: **sigh** still only PG-13

*Of Men and Metamorphmagus's...*

"The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one."
- Catcher in the Rye

It was a beautiful day, the dying rays of evening sun glinted off the green grass of the Weasley's lawn, and cool breeze was wafting from the West. In the garden Tonks could see Ginny and Hermione flying a Muggle kyte. Arthur, who sat nearby, was pearched on the edge of his seat, watching with a mixture of awe and delight. Behind her, one of the twins hooted with laughter. Spinning around Tonks saw with horror and amazemnt that a huge, twelve-seater oak table was pearched on the Weasley's chimney, it rocked ominousley in the breeze.

Arthur, who'd mangaged to tear his gaze from the kyte, obviousley did not find this nearly so amusing. He rounded on Bill,

"Get that thing down!" he hissed, "Before your mother sees-"

"Before his mother sees what, Arthur?" said his wife evenly from the doorway.

Finally, after some struggle, the table was returned to the ground, and a relative calm was restored. Ron came through the garden gate, broom under his arm.

"I'm rubbish" he said miserably, sinking into a chair beside Tonks.

"I'm sure you're not that bad." she said empethetically. Ginny, who was sitting across the table nodded.

"He's not" she said loyally "...when he's on form."

Ron grimmanced. Bill Weasley siddled over to Tonk's other side, seating himself neatly between her and George. She noticed, with some amusement, a red-ish smudge above his lip. George, too, seemed to have noticed the lipstick mark, for he asked (rather loudly)

"So Bill, how're those English lessons comming?" Bill looked confused for a moment, then his eyes widened in comprehension.

"Oh, -er- very well, she's a quick learner. A pleasure to teach."

George raised his eyebrows, "pleasure?" he asked innocentley.

"Shut up!" hissed Bill, taking a swipe at his brother, "Or mum will-"

Fred leaned accross the table, (elbow narrowly missing Ginny's face) and , putting on his best McGonagall inquesition voice, he demanded, "So, Mr. Weasley, would you describe your realtionship with Miss de la Couer as being purley platonic?" Bill galred daggars at his younger brother.

"Oh don't be a pratt!" said George

"Yeah" said Fred "We want all the *titilating* details"

Bill was horrified "How did you-"

"You might want to wipe off your mouth before mum sees." George gestured to the lipstick.

"Oh don't!" Said Tonks through a huge grin. "It's your colour Bill! Brings out the mortification perfectly...."

Fred, George, and Ginny hooted with laughter as Bill wiped off the lipstick on his sleeve. Dinner was served shortley after, and the talk soon turned from Bill's leasure activities to Mundugus and his plight. It wasn't until Hermione asked "Who'll be taking over his responsibilities in the Order?" That Tonks imerged from her reverie. "Seven o'clock!" she said loudly, jumping to her feet and tipping over the salad bowl. Finally, after sidling away from the seige of questions this outburst had envolked, Tonks made to leave.

"Wait!" Cried Molly. "I have some things for Harry to send with you!"

When Tonks appeared with a loud 'crack' in Mrs. Figg's dingy kitchen minuites later, the old woman had to jump up and grab her arm to keep both Tonks and the stack of packages she held from crashing to the floor.

" Lordy girl! You'd think you were coming to stay for a month!"

"They're...for...Harry...Molly...sent..." Tonks wheezed, dropping the parcels unserimoniously on the ancient kitchen table.

Remus Lupin (who'd stood up rather abruptly, so as to avoid being concussed by the tumbling packages) smiled mildly, "Nymphadora, this is a pleasent surprise, I was given the impression that Mundun-" He was inturrupted at this point by Mrs. Figg who had begun making noises similar to those of an angry cat.

"Lord help me! If that man is off persuing one of his blasted 'buisiness oppertutities'... I swear...I'll go straight to Dumbledore I will!" Remus laid a comforting hand on the old woman's shoulder, gently guiding her back to her seat.

"I'm sure that won't be necissary Arabella," He returned his level gaze to Tonks. "Did Mundungus think to mention-" Tonks nodded.

"He's having problems with the Ministry..." She explained, pulling up a chair of her own. With a startled yelp, the young woman lept to her feet. What she'd mistaken for an ugly, furry cushion hissed furiously, barring sharp teeth and even sharper claws. The black cat leapt from the chair and hurtled from the room, pausing only to take a swipe at Tonks's leg.

"Mr. Nibbles!" cried Mrs. Figg chasing after the cat with a vigor neither Remus or Tonks new the batty old woman possesed.

"You know," said Tonks absently "I've never really understood people who like owning cats...bothersome things, really...not the most reliable of pets. "

Remus took a small sip from the chipped yellow mug infront of him."Oh? And what sort of pet would you like to own, Nymphadora? Or dare I ask."

"It's 'Tonks' Remus," she corrected automatically, sitting down in the chair that Mr. Nibbles had recently vacated before grinning brightly, "A werewolf."

Tonks shot a glance at Lupin just in time to see the corners of his mouth twitch.

"If I see one, I'll be sure to let you know."

*****Oooooo!!! The suspense!!!!****

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