Over a week had gone by since I'd met a man in a pub who had shaken my resolve to never jump headlong into a relationship again. When I'd left Remus, he'd said that he hoped I wouldn't forget him. I hadn't, and not for lack of trying. During the days that followed, I threw myself into Auror duties in a way that I never had before. Extra assignments from Morty that would've been passed on previously were accepted gratefully. Each day, the work kept my mind off unforgettable brown eyes that were old and young, cheerful yet sad.

At night, though, my dreams were haunted by the look I'd seen in those intriguing eyes when I'd turned back before Apparating. It was as though Remus was accustomed to having people walk away, and he accepted it. For now.

Broken sleep was starting to wear on me. Over lunch in the Ministry cafeteria, my fellow Auror and best mate since Hogwarts stated bluntly, "You're narky today. Looks like you haven't slept much, either, or did you put purple shadow under your eyes instead of on your eyelids by mistake?"

"Ha Ha, Julia, and I thought the colour matched my eyes and hair perfectly."

The petite blonde who always found her tiny size of clothing and shoes on sale, lucky witch, said cheekily, "It does. Also makes you look like some tragic heroine pining away for love." Planting her elbows on the table in a way her pureblood mother would abhor, green eyes glinted. "So, who's the lucky guy?"

Appetite gone, I shoved my half-eaten sandwich away before shrugging. "No guy."

Julia started to open her mouth, probably to call me a liar, when she froze, staring past my shoulder. When I tried to turn to see what she was gawking at, manicured fingernails dug into my arm. "Don't look now, but Kingsley Shacklebolt is headed this way!"

Nothing made me want to turn and look more than someone telling me not to. In school, professors often wrote about my conduct, "lacks the ability to behave herself." Living down to those perceptions, I turned. Julia was right. Shacklebolt was moving toward our table.

Kingsley was a legend; he always got his man. Women often tried to get him. Tall, dark, and handsome, that white smile against dark brown skin had caused more than one witch to wish the good man would go bad. Dressed in black Auror robes, with a small gold hoop earring giving him a piratical look, the man was cool.

He stared down at me impassively. "I need to speak with you."

For a brief moment, the look on Julia's face was a silent, Oh my gods, is this the guy?

I shook my head and stood. "I'll talk to you later, Jul."

Following Shacklebolt up to his office, I gazed around curiously. It seemed the "he papers the cubicle walls with wanted posters" rumour was true. So was the one about the map of the world. Taking the seat indicated, I sat patiently while the man took out a Sneakoscope and placed it on the desk in front of him after waving his wand. The noise of co-workers became muted.

Privacy assured, the Auror looked at me steadily. "I've been keeping an eye on you, Tonks."

Wow. I never wore makeup to work either. How flattering.

Dark eyes noted my smirk. He returned it. "Your attitude could use improvement, and your methods are routinely unorthodox, but I believe that you'll be an exceptional Auror in time."

He didn't drag me here for a pep talk. I used one of the standard tactics on him. Drawn-out silence made people nervous, made them talk. After a few minutes, Kingsley smiled. "I knew I hadn't made an error nominating you, girl."

"For what, Miss Congeniality?"

The man had a rich, dark laugh. If another wizard's laughter hadn't already woven its spell over me, I might've been tempted to fraternise. As it was, I grinned appreciatively.

He said, "Perhaps you've heard rumours that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named wasn't truly defeated, and that his followers are preparing for his return." I nodded, trying to breathe normally. Had they found out about Evan and his friends? Would I be branded by past association as one of them? Was I about to be sacked? Kingsley lowered his voice. "I belong to a covert organization of wizards and witches that believe the rumours are true. We do what we can to gain information about Dark wizards and their plans."

I relaxed, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief. This was something entirely different and extremely welcome. Kingsley leaned forward. "The Underground is in need of a witch with your talents and principles, but it's your decision whether or not to accept the invitation to join us."

He handed me a card. It had a time and address on it. Out of habit, I memorised the information before incinerating the rectangle with a spell. Shacklebolt nodded approvingly. "Come to that address tonight. Secrecy, of course, is vital. I'm trusting that you will share our conversation with no one else."

The gravity of his tone made me feel like I was being offered membership in a superhero club. I could be Metamorphic Girl in sparkly pink spandex. Heroically stifling a giggle over the thought, I said earnestly, "Sure. I had plans, but I'll work around them, and I won't tell a soul."

Dark eyes were already scanning a report he'd lifted from a pile on the crowded desk. Absently, he murmured, "Return to work."

So much for keeping an eye on me. Shrugging, I followed instructions to the letter for once.

.

Later that afternoon, my Gran opened the door to her flat and cried, "Dora! I didn't expect you for another hour. Oh my heavens, did I confuse the time?"

I kissed her soft, wrinkled cheek and confessed, "No. I have an appointment this evening, so I hoped you wouldn't mind me coming round earlier." In the lounge, I teased, "You don't have a gentleman friend hidden away somewhere, do you?"

Gran patted her silvery bun self-consciously and waved me over to the sofa while she bustled into the kitchen. "Go on with you. Mr. Santini keeps asking to escort me to the senior centre, but I'm still thinking on it."

She returned with a plate of biscuits and a tall glass of fizzy lemonade that she set on the low table in front of me. She frowned. "Some of those women on our programme should do the same." Gran sat in her comfortable swivel chair and reached for her cup of tea and the remote control. "Always going from man to man." She clucked her tongue. "I don't approve of that, dear."

Gran always said she didn't approve the behaviour of the women on "our programme." Ever since I was a young girl, whenever my parents would take me to my Muggle grandmother's to play she'd let me watch her favourite programme. EastEnders hadn't really changed that much in all the years we'd been viewing the drama. Women still made bad choices in their romantic relationships. It was sad, really, in a happy, guilty-pleasure kind of way. I never told anyone that I enjoyed drinking Muggle beverages and watching their "Goggle Box" as Dad called it. Gran said it was our little secret.

"That dress she has on…shocking!"

I rather liked the halter necked minidress myself, and suspected that Gran did too. The dark blue eyes my dad and I had both inherited sparkled. She always wore brightly coloured housedresses, and from Dad's stories had been mad about dancing in her youth. It was fun to pick at character failings, though. Especially their fashion sense, or lack thereof. A scene later, I scorned gleefully, "Look at those shoes!"

When the bell rang a while later, Gran answered the door and smiled charmingly at the delivery boy. He grinned at her. "See you next week, Mrs. Tonks!"

Pizza was another tradition between us. Gran had always wanted me to experience teenaged Muggle customs, so she'd made sure I went to the cinema, video arcades, and ate pizza. I haven't seen a film in ages and never want to set foot in an arcade again, but pizza is brilliant. No wonder she's my favourite grandmother. As the years passed, the toppings that didn't upset Gran's digestion became fewer and fewer. We were down to extra cheese, but I wasn't choosy. It was the company more than the food that I enjoyed—until she brought up an old friend.

"Last week at the corner market I ran into Rory Farrell, of all people. He's grown up to be such a gentleman, helping me with my bags and asking about you, dear." Eyes twinkling, she said, "He's working for his uncle now."

"That's nice."

I was being polite. Gran didn't need to know that gentleman Rory's uncle proved that crime did pay, some of the time. When I was fifteen, I spent the summer with Gran and met an Irish boy who was the epitome of a charming rogue. For a couple of months, I was bewitched by Black Irish good looks and charisma. Then I watched my boyfriend savagely beat a man who owed his Uncle Colin money. He became my ex-boyfriend.

"Are you keeping company with a young man, sweetheart?"

If I didn't say yes, she'd offer to invite Rory over one night to talk over old times. I smiled brightly. "Yes, Gran, his name's…Remus…and he's…great." I stared off, remembering. Unconsciously, my voice became dreamy. "Handsome, smart, makes me laugh, honourable . . . ." I trailed off, cheeks heating.

Gran observed with a twinkle, "My, he sounds like a keeper. Has he met your parents?"

"No! Gran, I only met the man a week ago. We're in the get to know you phase." I tried not to sound hysterical. "It's nowhere near meet the family time yet."

She patted my hand consolingly. "Just be yourself, dear, and in time he'll come around."

The chiming of her mantel clock saved me from making up any more half-lies. I jumped up, gave her a kiss and promised to return next week. Edgy from thinking about past and present romantic fiascos, I took the stairs instead of the lift and went around the back of the block of flats to Apparate to the warehouse district.

.

I'd only missed the address by a couple of buildings. The one the card specified looked rundown, unused for more than long-term storage. Overhead, the first quarter moon dominated the night sky. Knocking on the side door made a sensation like a static charge travel through my knuckles and up my arm. The door opened. Tall, dark, and serious stated, "You're late. The meeting is about to start."

"Nice to see you, too, Kingsley, and I'm not late, you lot began early." I brushed past him. "Got a lot of old-timers wanting to get home before they get too tired to Apparate, huh?"

The bad thing about warehouses is that voices carry. So my flippant words were heard by the dozen or more people gathered in one corner. A few faces were smiling, but most were frowning. It was an interesting group. There were Ministry types, dodgy sorts and even a few older witches and wizards.

I recognised the witch in her mid-twenties striding toward me with a big smile. She was one of Morty's top agents. We got along famously and she can't stand her name either. Camillia Llewellyn, called Cami, envied my ability to change my hair on a whim. Hers was straight and spell resistant, when she'd wanted wild curls. I'd told her to be glad it was a great shade of brown, like Swiss Chocolate. I wished I had some chocolate to counter the dark glances I was receiving.

Cami hugged me, grinning. "Merlin, I never dreamt I'd see you here, Tonks. Kingsley's got a straightforward style, and you, well, are you."

A pleasant bark of laughter silenced the cheeky comeback I'd been about to make. I was too busy fighting the urge to run. I recognised that laugh. It belonged to the wizard several metres away whose face I hadn't seen when first scanning the room. Remus Lupin. With a tense smile, I stepped forward to join the group. Casually, I manoeuvred behind a man with a square jaw and thick, fair hair. Kingsley stood beside me. From my cover, I slanted a stealthy glance.

Why was I so fixated? Remus was at least a dozen years older than me. He wasn't overtly charismatic like Rory, or gorgeous like Evan, but something about him made my heart pound. The more I furtively peeked and tried to analyse his attractiveness, the harder it was to remember why I wasn't going to do anything about it.

An older witch wrapped in an emerald green shawl over a high-necked black gown called the meeting to order. Kingsley leaned close to whisper that her name was Emmeline Vance, and that she'd fought against Death Eaters back when it could mean the execution of your family to do so. When the group she'd belonged to disbanded, Vance had refused to knit by the fire waiting to be called back into action. She'd formed her own group, determined to do what she could to counter those who followed Dark ways.

I listened respectfully while she explained that random surveillance of known supporters of You-Know-Who was vital to the Underground's efforts to oppose those claiming to be agents of the Dark Lord.

I had the worst urge to giggle over the idea of Nymphadora Tonks, secret agent. It was hard to envision, but then again, nobody else in the room looked like Bond, James Bond, either. Maybe that was why this Underground was still alive instead of cursed into oblivion.

"Nymphadora Tonks!"

Shit, I'd been zoning out and had absolutely no clue why people were staring at me. I threw Kingsley a panicked glance. His eyes smiled while he said in his deep, solemn voice, "I have invited my young associate to join our ranks. Her Auror training and abilities as a Metamorphmagus will be a tremendous asset. Who will second the motion?"

"I second the motion."

I'd have to buy Cami lunch for that. Glancing around, I saw heads nodding. I was in. The discussion moved on to another topic. Was there no secret handshake, oaths of blood, or anything else suitably dramatic? How disappointing.

My eyes flickered sideways and met those of Remus Lupin. He smiled kindly. I turned away in panic. I immediately realised that someone who had nothing to hide wouldn't act that way and glanced back. His head was cocked to the side in puzzlement. I tried to look nonchalant and friendly. His eyes narrowed. The room and everyone else in it seemed to disappear when his nostrils flared in a deep inhalation. The wizard took a step forward. I took a step back.

I think I'd recognize your scent anywhere.

This was not happening. Remus was not tracking me down by my scent like some kind of predator. He was just . . . doing some breathing exercises while padding my way with a wolfish gleam in his eye. I tried not to look in his direction as I strolled around shaking hands and making nice after the meeting. My shoulder blades began prickling horribly. I had to take a peek.

Remus was talking to Kingsley, in the exact spot I'd been standing. He inhaled sharply, his gaze capturing mine. I had two options, fight or flight. Normally, I was a fighter, but in this place, with this man, I made a strategic retreat. And a mistake—I glanced back again. He was closer. I was torn between my voice of reason saying, Oh no and the reckless part of me looking at longish brown hair framing a masculine face that was much too appealing and saying, Oh yeah.

Indecision cost me. I'd almost made it to the door when I took a last look. Emmeline Vance had moved to Remus's side. She noticed my hesitation and called, "Miss Tonks, there's someone I'd like you to meet."

I'd tried to flee. Now I'd have to fight my way out of this mess. I didn't go up and jinx him. Instead, I went passive aggressive and pretended that we'd never met before. Pasting on the look I'd perfected while avoiding blame for blowing spit balls in school, I gave a small, insincere smile while the stately witch introduced me to Remus J. Lupin.

I said breezily, "Hullo, I'm Tonks. Nice to meet you. Wish I could stay and chat, but it's getting late, and work starts early."

"Have we met before?" His gaze was uncertain, as if his senses were giving him conflicting information.

My eyes widened in feigned surprise. "I don't think so, unless—are you a friend of my parents?"

His lips curved with wry humour. "No. I'm a bit older than you, but not that much."

One of his hands gestured deprecatingly at his grey-streaked hair while he spoke. He'd done that the last time too. Without thinking, I repeated the same words I'd said before. "Premature grey looks good on men."

"Thank you." The smile curving Remus's lips told me he remembered everything. "Is this your true appearance? It looks good on you."

"Erm, thanks. Again, nice to meet you, Mr. Lupin, and you, too, Mrs. Vance. I'll see you around. Goodnight."

Before I could make my awkward exit, Emmeline said, "Please stay a few more minutes, my dear. This may be short notice, but there is a matter that requires your unique abilities."

My foolish heart sped up again. Did that count as aerobic exercise? It might be worth the stress if madly fluttering butterflies kept my abdomen toned without sit ups. Standing next to Remus while the older witch began to speak, I did some deep breathing of my own. He smelled way too good. Sort of musky. Oh, yeah. Mrs. Vance explained that the man beside me would be my partner. I stared.

Oh no.

.

A/N: I use canon details as much as possible, but admit to adding elements like her Gran and the Underground that aren't out of the realm of possibility in order to tell a story. I utilized HP sites, too, but disagree with the Lexicon definition of a werewolf, which states "At any other time, a werewolf is a completely normal human." In the books, Lupin clearly becomes more tired and peaky as the moon waxes and healthier looking when it wanes. Sorry, that's not normal, so I feel justified (with the examples of Fenrir and Bill) in taking the viewpoint that Remus has other, unique qualities as well. ; )

Huzzah for all the positive encouragement I've had so far! I appreciate it- wasn't sure how a fic not labelled 'after the hospital scene' would be received. :D If you'd like to read another fic that's a bit different from the rest of the 'pack', lol, check out FNP's Maybe it's the Moonlight, my first HP foray into being a beta. Note: I heart my reviewers and have always responded, but since it's "not allowed" anymore, I went back and deleted my old replies . Never erased are the reviewers whose encouragement means the world to me! 40/16 Camillia Vincent Carnivalgirl Cherryripe clamsofmacabre cupcakeswirl comfort food cyle Distinct Vagueness ElspethBates Embellished FNP Funnykido GraceRichie Jedi Knight Padme jennaymai Lady Ceridwen Loz Me NazgulGirl Quicksilver Foxx Rachel Slipknot-3113 sunny9847 Super Kawaii Lamb The J and Waterlili