A/n: Here's chapter 6! I might start updating a little less frequently cause things are getting hectic but I definitely plan on finishing this so don't give up on me. I'm so about all the semicolons in this chap. My computer really likes them. Also, I think I said I would respond to all review in this chap but I lied. Am v. sorry! I'll get around to it I swear! Oh and the #2 note that I never finished next chapter: Someone mentioned the title of this story so I thought I'd tell you guys the story behind it. Basically I heard this song on the radio and I was hyper and there was this line: "the best soy latte that you've ever had…and me." So I thought it was cool and I was talking to a friend and somehow the song comes up and tadda! It came to me!...Not a very interesting story now that I think about it.

Anyhow here's the story. The song is Bathwater by No Doubt and it has absolutely nothing to do with this chapter, I just happened to like it and no other songs worked either.

Disclaimer: I don't own any situations, characters, and places that are in the Harry Potter books. I don't own the song lyrics. It all belongs to JKR and No Doubt.

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Bathwater

[this song has nothing to do with this fict see authors note]

You and your museum of lovers
The precious collection you've housed in your covers
My simpleness threatened by my own admission And the bags are much too heavy
In my insecure condition
My pregnant mind is fat full with envy again But I still love to wash in your old bathwater
Love to think that you couldn't love another
I can't help it...you're my kind of man Wanted and adored by attractive women
Bountiful selection at your discretion
I know I'm diving into my own destruction So why do we choose the boys that are naughty?
I don't fit in so why do you want me?
And I know I can't tame you...but I just keep trying 'Cause I love to wash in your old bathwater
Love to think that you couldn't love another
I'm on your list with all your other women
But I still love to wash in your old bathwater
You make me feel like I couldn't love another
I can't help it...you're my kind of man

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Dora came to slowly and painfully. The first thing she was aware of was the pain in her side and in her right arm. Her head hurt, too. She shifted slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position.

"She's coming around," observed a man. He sounded nearby. Slowly, Dora opened her eyes. She was lying on a cot in the middle of the Leaky Cauldron. The pub had been turned into a makeshift hospital. Rows of beds were set up. On each bed lay a witch or wizard, some still unconscious others awake and being tended to by one of the many healers in St. Mungo's robes, or else talking to family members or ministry officials.

Dora studied the two men beside her bed. She didn't recognize either of them. One sat in a chair. He was a large man, bald, dark-skinned, with an earring in one ear. Dora liked the look of him; he seemed friendly. The other man stood, looming over her in a slightly intimidating way. He was a very neat looking man, with straight, graying brown hair and moustache and perfectly tailored robes. He wasn't half as friendly looking as the other man and Dora doubted she would like him very much. He was just too damn orderly.

The man with earring smiled. "Do you feel well enough to talk?" he asked.

"I think so," Dora croaked. Her mouth and throat were dry. Her head ached terribly when she spoke. "Can I have some water?"

The man handed her a cup. Dora took a long drink, spilling more than she drank, handed the cup back, and waited for the men to continue. She wondered what they wanted.

"My name is Bartemius Crouch," said the neat man. "I am the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation and this is Kingsley Shacklebolt, he's an Auror. We're trying to figure out what happened on Christmas Eve."

"What day is it?" asked Dora.

Mr. Crouch ignored her. "Would you please state your name, age, and then give your account of the events of December the twenty-fourth in your own words," he said. He had obviously done this before, that or he had rehearsed the speech. Either way, Dora was too distracted to answer him.

"What happened? How long was I asleep?" she asked groggily. She was exhausted.

"Please answer my questions," said Crouch impatiently.

"Barty, give her a minute; she's sick," said Kingsley Shacklebolt calmly. He turned to Dora, "You were bitten by a snake that was conjured by a Serpensort Curse. The venom was poisonous but not deadly. You'll feel sick for a few days, but you'll live. And it's Christmas Day, evening really. Now if you don't want to talk, at least give us your name and age so we can talk to you later--"

"Kingsley, I really think we should--" Crouch began stiffly.

"Let her rest," Kingsley cut in, "I agree. Your name miss?"

"Dora Tonks."

Crouch, who seemed to have a need for control over the situation, asked, "What is 'Dora' short for?"

Dora grimaced, "Nymphadora."

Crouch scribbled on a notebook. "And your age?"

"Sixteen."

The men stared at her, shocked. "Sixteen!" exclaimed Kingsley. "What the hell were you doing out there? Where are your parents?"

"Some guy…he told me to…they're…" Dora could no longer see straight. Her stomach heaved and she threw up over the side of the bed. She lay back down, still nauseated and longing for sleep.

After vanishing the mess, Kingsley handed Dora a potion. "This will help you sleep," he said.

Dora drank it down and fell instantly asleep.

When Dora woke, she found herself in the room she had been living in during her stay at the Leaky Cauldron. The pain in her side, arm, and head had lessened slightly and she didn't feel as dizzy as she had before. She glanced around the room. Neither Crouch, nor Kingsley was there. In fact, no one was. Dora frowned. She wasn't entirely sure what to do now. Was she still under medical care or could she do what ever she wanted? The answer came quickly in the form of a healer. Healer Francesca Malone, read her nametag. Francesca was short and slim with dark hair and eyes. She smiled when she saw Dora was awake and handed her a slightly murky looking potion. "I'm Francesca," she said, a bit unnecessarily. "The potion will help your head. I'm afraid you're going to have quite an unpleasant interview with the ministry men. They've barging into patient's rooms all day pestering them all day and night," she scowled darkly then rolled her eyes. "Anyway drink up," Dora obeyed, "and I'll help you sit up and get ready." The healer grinned, "you look like a beggar girl."

Dora laughed and let Francesca prop her up with pillows comb her curly black hair. She scowled at her hair. She hated its natural appearance. She had the same thick, dark curls as her mother and many other Blacks. She never wore her hair this dark if she could help it; it reminded her of her lineage. All the same, she barely had enough energy to sit much less change her appearance.

Francesca finished her task (straightening the covers and Dora's hospital gown) and went to open the door. Two men entered and the healer left. The men were the same two who had questioned her earlier. Crouch conjured two chairs at Dora's bedside and they sat.

"Well, Nymphadora," Crouch began.

"It's Dora," she corrected.

"Well, Dora," the man amended looking rather irritated, "before we begin our little talk, Mr. Shacklebolt and I would like to know where your parents are." He was being very patronizing, something which annoyed Dora to no end and confirmed her dislike of the man.

"They're around," replied Dora.

"Around here?"

Dora's mind was racing. If these men knew she had run out on her family, they would have her back with her parents in minutes. "Around the world," she said, working on a story she could give them.

"What do you mean?" asked Crouch testily.

"They went to…er…New Zealand for the holidays."

"I see," said Crouch, scribbling on his notepad.

"Are you staying with someone here then?" asked Kingsley.

"My uncle." Dora hadn't forgotten about Uncle Moony, she hadn't asked after him because she hadn't much of an opportunity to ask anyone anything. Besides bringing up her surrogate uncle could have caused awkward questions. Now, since awkward questions were unavoidable, Dora felt she might as well use the topic to her advantage.

"And what is his name?" asked Crouch.

"Remus Lupin. Do you know where he is? I haven't seen him since Christmas Eve. He went out to fight."

"I believe I saw him out in Diagon Alley," supplied Kingsley. "He was helping with clean-up. I'll send for him." He then scribbled a message on a piece of parchment and, with a few muttered words and waves of his wand, he made the parchment fold itself into a paper airplane, which soared out of the room.

"Now, Miss Tonks, will you please explain what happened to you during the attack on the twenty-fourth?" said Crouch.

Dora did, mostly. She made it sound as though she had already been outside when the battle started since she didn't want to deal with the lecture she would've received if Crouch and Kingsley knew she had rushed out into the fighting. She also didn't tell them who the Death Eater was. She would tell them about that when they asked and of course they would ask.

She had just reached the part of her story when she had attempted to stun Narcissa, when the door opened and three more people entered the room. Remus was one of them. He went to the bed at once, a frown on his worn face. He was followed by Arthur Weasley and by Charlie. Dora had never been happier to see them. She threw her arms around Remus who was first to reach her and then hugged Charlie who had crossed to the side of the bed opposite the adults.

"What are all you doing here?" demanded Crouch. "This is a Ministry questioning, not a press conference."

"This is my uncle, Moon—Remus," said Dora quickly. "He's the one who's been watching out for me while my parents are in New Zealand." She glanced at Lupin. He was frowning, then realization hit him and his face cleared. She crossed her fingers under the blankets that he would cover for her, and continued, "Charlie here is a friend of mine from school, he and his father—"

"Were working outside trying to clean up the alley," Mr. Weasley provided. "We were near Mr. Lupin when he received your message."

Crouch frowned, "You may see her in a little while," he said, "until then please wait in the hall."

Crazy, lunatic, control freak, thought Dora. Looking up at Crouch she bit her lip, batted her eyes, and tried to look pathetic. It wasn't hard, seeing as she was still in quite a bit of pain despite the potion Francesca had given her.

"Please, sir," she whispered pitifully, "don't send them away!" Charlie recognizing her tactic as one she had used on countless teachers at Hogwarts hid his grin with his hand. "Can't they stay?" begged Dora

Crouch was clearly not moved. "No, they cannot," he replied curtly. "This is—"

"Not a top secret interview," finish Kingsley. "Let them stay Barty, she'll probably just tell them anyway." Without waiting for Crouch's approval, Kingsley conjured three more chairs and Dora's interview continued smoothly until Crouch asked the unavoidable question:

"Do you have any idea as to the identity of this Death Eater."

Dora looked him straight in the eye, "It was Narcissa Malfoy." Crouch stared at her with disapproving disbelief. Dora had expected this reaction. As much as Crouch despised the dark arts, she knew he had vouched for the Malfoys when they were brought to trial simply because they were rich and he knew sending them to jail would jeopardize his chances of becoming Minister of Magic. The Ministry would not have appreciated a man who lost them so much financial aid. That was when he had a chance of becoming Minister. Even now, Crouch would be prejudiced in favor of someone as rich as Narcissa Malfoy.

"That is absolutely ridiculous," he said. "Anyway, you couldn't have known who it was. According to every witness, the attackers were masked."

Dora smiled, "If I couldn't have known then why did you ask?"

Crouch, backed into a verbal trap, tried a new approach; "I'm afraid I can't take your word on this bit of evidence."

"Why not?" asked Mr. Weasley. "She seems quite sure and she is a very intelligent, honest person. I can give her a referral."

"I'm sure you could Weasley," said Crouch stiffly. "However, I am almost certain that, in this case, Miss Tonks's word is less than reliable due to her personal bias against Mrs. Malfoy."

"What do you mean 'personal bias'?" Dora asked, growing suspicious.

"I mean that I happen to be aware of the relationship between yourself and Mrs. Malfoy."

"What relationship?" asked Dora, her voice dangerously low. She could feel her temper rise. She knew what card Crouch was about to play. This man had the cool control of a politician; he knew how to get his way.

"Don't play dumb, Miss Tonks. Narcissa Malfoy is your aunt. She and the rest of your mother's family disowned your mother and you and now your prejudice is, deliberately or unconsciously, making your testimony—"

Dora punched him squarely in the nose. Crouch's brought his hand up to his nose as it (the nose, not the hand) began to bleed profusely. The other four men in the room were staring at her. Their expressions ranged from horrified to amused. Dora set her jaw and prepared for several impressively long lectures. They didn't come. Crouch left the room, shooting Dora a very angry look. Kingsley followed him, stopping only long enough to inform Dora that the information that she gave would only be used by the Ministry in attempt to understand what had happened during the battle. Under no circumstances would her comments be released to the press. It was impossible to tell by Kingsley's face what he was thinking as he left.

"Well that was interesting," said Lupin.

Dora stared at him, "You're not mad?"

"Not mad exactly," answered her uncle slowly. "Not yet at least," he added with a small smile. "Right now I'm too surprised to be mad. Where did that come from?"

Dora shrugged, "Sensitive subject."

"What is?" asked Mr. Weasley.

Dora shrugged again; she didn't want to talk about her family, her feelings, or her rather explosive temper. She changed the subject, "Why didn't you come find me?" she asked Remus. "And what exactly happened? I mean I know about the attack obviously but nothing afterward."

Remus explained that all the Death Eaters had Disapparated when the Aurors showed up. Diagon Alley was more or less in shambles and volunteers from the magical community were working to fix it up. About twenty-five people (including Dora) were injured during the battle and four were killed.

"So it wasn't just a spur of the moment thing, it was a planned battle?" asked Dora.

"We assume so," said Mr. Weasley, "but we may never know for sure. There isn't even any evidence that it was a group of Death Eaters."

"And I'm sorry I didn't contact you," Remus told Dora, "I tried but only blood relatives of the injured and Ministry officials were allowed to go into the sick room. I managed to get information that you were alright from a Healer."

"They wouldn't tell us anything either," said Mr. Weasley. "Charlie told me you were here when we heard about the attack on the alley—"

"You told him!" cried Dora, sticking her tongue out at Charlie. "I told you not to!"

Charlie shrugged, "You could've been dead. I figured we should check up on you so me and dad left Egypt early."

Dora shrugged back, "That makes sense."

Mr. Weasley stood, "I'm going to go talk to your healer, Dora," he announced. "I'll find out when you can travel."

Dora was instantly suspicious, "Travel where? I'm not going ho—"

"To the Burrow. I thought you might rather stay with us for the rest of the holidays."

Impulsively, Dora hugged him, blinking away tears. "Thank you."

Mr. Weasley turned to leave. As he reached the door, Dora realized something. "Hey Mr. Weasley!" she called, "What about Remus? Do think he could—"

"I have to leave tonight," her uncle broke in, "I have…business."

"Well then," said Mr. Weasley, "we'll let the two of you talk for awhile."

He and Charlie left, assuring Dora that they would return later.

"Where are you going?" Dora asked when they were gone.

"To find work."

She thought it over. "I don't believe you," she said simply.

Lupin laughed, "I would be very disappointed if you did believe me."

"But you won't tell me the truth?"

"Nope. So tell me what have you been up to since I left?"

Dora told him some stories about school and her friends and he told her a few stories of his adventures. Around seven, the two Weasleys returned and Remus announced that he would be leaving.

"I'll see you around," he said to Dora, shaking her hand.

She raised an eyebrow, "Another eight years?"

"Naw, make it six," Remus replied.

"Six it is."

Remus kissed her forehead, "Good-bye Nymphie," he teased.

She grinned back, "Sayonara, Uncle Moony."

She watched him as he left the room, wondering when she would see him again.

Mr. Weasley's voice broke her reverie, "Your healer said you can leave in the morning but you'll have to be careful."

Dora nodded. She was still thinking about the rather brief appearance of her foster uncle. She continued to think about him as she said good-night to Charlie and his father and fell asleep.

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A/n: Like it? Thanks to all reviewers and to my lovely beta Windowseat Wonderer. Review!