Why had I forgotten that where Slytherin are concerned, nothing is simple? My first instinct had been to repeat something I'd heard Prissy say to a friend during a party once—he was everything I'd always wanted—but she'd been talking about a present, for Merlin's sake! I lay rigidly beneath Evan while he tried to overwhelm me with kisses. If he was using the display of passion to sway me into metamorphosing to my true self, it wasn't going to work. Not because our sex life had been awful; some women I'd known, when they broke off a serious relationship, immediately began revising history. They said that the physical side had been equally bad, and they didn't miss the intimacy at all. I'd never done that. True, until Remus I'd only had Rory to compare the physical chemistry against, but some things you just know. Still, even though compatibility in this area had never been a problem, and I had missed the bastard for a long, long time, I didn't kiss him back. I didn't love him anymore.

"I've missed my pretty girl," Evan said. The tip of his tongue traced the seam of my lips. "Let me in."

I made a split decision. I started to cry. Fat tears rolled down my cheeks while I bawled. Priscilla wasn't a pretty tears kind of girl, and it felt good to be able to release my angry emotions. It felt even better to have Evan stop pressing me for a response I was never going to give. He stood by the bed watching me sob in noisy gulps with an unreadable look on his face. Through swollen eyelids, I saw a flicker of discomfort pass over his features.

Gruffly, he said, "Priscilla, control yourself."

Immediately, I began taking shuddering breaths, giving the appearance of dutifully attempting to stop my crying jag. His eyes closed briefly. I knew I'd convinced him when he said, "Prissy, disregard everything I've said. I regret to have hurt your feelings, but I was convinced you were an imposter." Stiffly, he continued, "I was unprepared for your declaration. I'm honoured, and of course care for you deeply." Handing me a handkerchief, Evan looked away. "After you compose yourself, I'll escort you to your father. He will take you home if you feel disinclined to stay."

"I…I'm…sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I won't embarrass you again." For a moment, I thought I'd overplayed my humbled fiancée act.

Evan said, "Let's agree that this was an unfortunate occurrence and leave it at that, shall we? I'll come round and take you to lunch tomorrow." He kissed my cheek when I finished mopping up the tears. "You'll feel better after a good night's rest."

I nodded and asked, "My face. Does it look too bad?"

He was silent for a moment. "Why don't you let the house-elf perform a Complexion Charm before I take you downstairs?"

Inside the lavatory set aside for cosmetic and wardrobe repairs, the house-elf was busy mending a tear in Narcissa Malfoy's hem. I fixed my face with covert morphing and rejoined Evan in the corridor. He gave a small smile of approval. "Much better."

In the ballroom, I saw "Reginald" talking to Vincent Crabbe Sr. who was dressed as the blustery windbag Pantaloon. When he saw me, Remus's tense posture relaxed. "Enjoying the ball, my dear?"

I answered his question with a sniff. "Actually, I don't feel very well. If it's all right with you, Father, I'd like to go home."

Considering me for a moment, Remus nodded. "Yes, I've enjoyed myself quite sufficiently. Rosier, please make our excuses to the Malfoys. Crabbe, good show tonight."

Barrel chest puffed with pride over that mystifying remark, Crabbe smiled broadly. "Yes, it was, and it's just the beginning."

Evan accompanied us to the library. I was thankful that we were Flooing to the Parkinson home because I knew from the set expression on his face that he'd do a tracing spell to make one final authentication of his fiancée. After Remus and I stepped into the Parkinson library, the group separated us, asking questions we answered succinctly in order that Hestia could adjust the Parkinsons' memories as soon as possible.

I was disturbed to hear the report that there had been at least fifty wizards and witches gathered in the cavernous wine cellar to declare their allegiance to the Dark Lord. The assembly had been assured that their great and noble leader had laid intricate plans for the downfall of Harry Potter, although they hadn't been made privy to the exact nature of them. Voldemort might be insane, but he wasn't stupid. He gave his followers the illusion that they were integral parts of a grand scheme without disclosing information that could bring those plans to ruin if his pretended trust was misplaced. I could see the disappointment on everyone's faces.

Emmeline said, "I've always kept Dumbledore informed of our endeavors, and he was hoping that this mission would…ah, well, regardless, I'll return home and owl Albus immediately."

She left while the rest of us took care of the Parkinsons. I was relieved to put on my own clothes. It got me out of the same room as Remus. My insides had been twisting ever since I'd seen his nostrils flare, inhaling deeply as he escorted me to the Malfoy library. The knots in my stomach had tightened when he'd repeated the action several times while I'd explained that Rosier had been scrutinising couples, looking for spies that night. His expression had been impassive, but a muscle in his cheek had jerked, and he didn't meet my eyes. Wretchedly, I knew Remus smelled Evan's scent all over me.

When Hestia invited the others back to her flat for a drink, I claimed fatigue and Flooed home. The moment I arrived, I left a trail of shoes and clothing marking my heedless rush toward the lavatory. Once the Water Charm engaged, I began scrubbing my skin, frantically cleansing Evan's touch and smell off my flesh.

There wasn't enough hot water to wash away the raw look on Remus's face when I'd left. Unable to deal with what he might be thinking, I slid down the tiles, weeping. I couldn't answer when I heard him call my name on the other side of the bathroom door.

"Let me in, I need to talk to you. I don't want you to misunderstand…damn it, I'm coming in!" Remus opened the door and saw me huddled on the floor of the shower. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He shut down the water, wrapped a bath sheet around me and lifted me up. Carrying me into my room, he set me on the edge of the bed and dried my hair with a charm.

"I didn't kiss him back, I swear!" I croaked around the lump in my throat.

He sat beside me and pulled me onto his lap. "I know. I know." Remus kissed my eyelashes that were spiky with tears and began tenderly kissing every part of my face. His hands rubbed my arms. "I know you didn't. I would've been able to tell."

I thought a trifle wildly that I bet nobody ever got away with cheating on a werewolf. I stayed curled up against him, shivering, as he stroked me and explained, "It's not only my senses that are more acute. I don't usually have trouble controlling my animal instincts, yet tonight . . . ." I looked up into his face. It was twisted with emotion, his eyes intense when he said, "I wanted to replace his scent on your skin with my own."

My breath caught and expelled in an audible, ragged sigh. I slid off his lap and rushed to the small chest of drawers, yanking out a tank, panties, and sleep shorts while asking, "Look the other way for a minute, OK?"

He turned his head, smiling a little. I knew I was being ridiculous, since he'd already seen everything, but this was different. After swiftly dressing, I sat beside him. Taking his hand in mine, I placed it to my cheek.

"What do you want?" Remus asked softly.

I tried to smile but it was a pitiful effort. "I washed off the scent, but memories don't wash away. I want you to replace them."

His eyes glinted like Amber when I lay back against the mattress. "Did he press…?"

Remus's growl produced a response Evan's physical assault hadn't received. I mutely nodded and pulled him down atop me, lifting my head, seeking his kiss. The feel of his body and mouth against mine was more cleansing than soap and water. My bruised heart was comforted by the press of his skin and lips. Drinking in his unique scent and his kiss, I was inexplicably sorry for Evan, because he would never know how good this kind of closeness felt. Remus deepened the kiss, and I forgot about everything but him.

Eventually, our embrace became so heated that Remus rolled away, panting. "Better now?"

I got the giggles. "What do you think?"

Turning his head to meet my gaze, his low laughter sent a pleasurable shiver down my spine. "I think even if I couldn't see and feel the heat of your flush, smell your skin, or hear your rapid breaths, the way you grabbed my arse at the end would've told me that you were."

I tried to say it with a straight face, but immediately after I said, "Just giving myself a good memory," I broke into laughter. My unrestrained mirth triggered his. Laughing with Remus felt almost as good as kissing him. Looking at his mouth, I sighed. Almost

"I should go." Remus sat up. I impulsively hugged him, pressing against his back while I asked, "Will you meet me in the park after work? You could bring Snuffles. I'll buy dinner from the vendor of your choice."

He heard the smile in my voice and covered my hands with his. "How can I refuse such a generous offer?"

I accompanied him to the door and kissed him goodbye, giggling in surprise when he cupped my backside. Remus winked. "I wanted a good memory too."

The next day, I was still grinning like a fool when I skipped through the double doors into work. Toning my skipping down to a sprightly walk when senior staff raised their eyebrows at me as I passed, I made my way back to Rotten Row. I stopped by Tom's abnormally tidy cubicle. "Good morning, gorgeous!"

"How many times have I told you not to encourage his conceit, Tonks?" Julia scolded behind me. I turned and said, "Good morning, beautiful, and I'm just stating the facts, ma'am."

"You must've had a Happy Halloween," Tom said with a smile.

Explaining yes and no was impossible, so I answered, "Yeah, I did." Julia appeared ready to interrogate for juicy details, but at that moment a popping sound was heard. We all watched a file appear in Tom's inbox. His eyebrows lifted while reading the particulars of the case to us.

"A Mrs. Jorkins, who previously filed a missing persons report with the patrol squad, is now filing a report of suspected Dark magic involved in the disappearance of her daughter, Bertha, some months ago." He read further and looked at his girlfriend. "I've been put on the case with Tonks. Sorry, Jules, it appears someone tattled about seeing us snog on duty."

She fumed. "If I ever find out who did it." Her perfectly manicured fingers snapped. "They'll get a hex they won't soon forget."

I smiled impishly. "We can always do a power of three tracing spell."

Tom leaned forward. "Every wizard's dream." Pretending to cower at the sight of Julia's threatening wand, he asked, "How about today after the rest of the lemmings have made the daily exodus to the pubs?"

We agreed, grinning like naughty children. After doing a bit of boring paperwork at my desk, I gratefully sent the completed tasks winging to Gulch's hopefully overloaded inbox and headed for Tom's cubicle. He slipped on Auror robes, his appearance elegant as usual. I was content to be presentable. We discussed how to handle the mother as we walked toward the exit.

Showing our badges to Mrs. Jorkins a short while later, my partner and I exchange a quick glance of silent communication before he smiled slightly. "Auror Fenton, my partner Auror Tonks. Madam Jorkins, we'd like to come in and ask you a few questions."

The plump older witch visibly preened at being called Madam by such an aristocratic young man. Ignoring me and my ordinary shade of brown hair, she told him, "Come in. I'm at my wit's end, I assure you."

I crossed my eyes when Tom glanced my way. His lips twitched. I said in my most self-effacing tone, "Perhaps I might search your daughter's room for signs of Dark magic while my partner takes your statement?" She shooed me off to the bedroom at the back of the flat before offering my partner tea. Knowing that his patrician tone would keep the mother entranced for some time, I performed several Dark Arts detection spells in various rooms of the flat before entering Bertha's bedroom.

There was a chilling atmosphere of arrested development in the room. The single bed was covered in eyelet lace. Posters of wizard rock groups that had been popular over fifteen years ago covered the walls. The witch worked for the Department of Magical Games and Sports, but if I hadn't known otherwise, I would've thought her a Hogwarts student.

No Dark objects were in the room. The faintest trace of a Memory Charm lingered; plenty of people used Remembralls and other memory aids. According to the patrol guard report, Bertha was scatterbrained in the extreme. It made sense that she'd resort to charms.

"Wotcher, Bertha!" I said in surprise when I found the journal. I'd thought it a textbook, due to its immensity. When I'd opened it, the words, Bertha's Private Journal jumped out at me. I scanned the entries. They started when she was a first year at Hogwarts and seemed to be a record of everything she'd seen and told. Whoever had cheated on an exam, been tardy to class or snogged behind a statue was written down in meticulous detail. I frowned. Her writing style wasn't riveting, but it sure didn't seem like she had a bad memory. I skipped ahead to her seventh year. Gleefully, I read about cousin Sirius's romantic exploits as well as a hex that had me clapping a hand over my mouth to contain unladylike laughter.

"Wait a minute, this is odd." This time I spoke to the stuffed rabbit on the bed, "Look here, the newest entries are scatty, not detailed like the earlier ones. I wonder what happened."

"Talking to oneself is never a good sign," Tom drawled from the doorway.

I waved him in. "My partner was busy so I had to make do with Peter Rabbit here." He snorted in amusement while I showed him how the journal entries started precise and ended in a way that made it seem that she could barely remember her own name.

He pointed. "This entry…Bringing work round to Mr. Crouch's residence. I do hope his house-elf doesn't start kissing his feet while I'm there. I find the creature unnaturally attached and absurdly jealous of me. Winky treats me very poorly, serving burnt biscuits and cold tea." Tom's eyes were puzzled. "Compare that with the entry made later the same day…Had to look up where I'd gone so I could explain to Mum why dinner was late. I couldn't remember. How silly of me. I must make…something…for dinner…" He paused. "If the handwriting wasn't the same, I'd say two different people wrote them."

Mrs. Jorkins entered the bedroom waving a postcard with Albanian folk dancers on the front. I watched the colourfully dressed villagers dance before Tom took the card with a smirk and turned it over to read aloud, "Dear Mum, I think I've been enjoying my trip because the rest of the group say that I have. You'll be interested to hear that I met someone I knew from Hogwarts in the tavern of the inn we're staying at for the next few nights. I hope…I forget his name…but I hope he comes back and talks to me again. Yours, Bertha."

"I just know that this man she'd known from Hogwarts was a vampire, or a Dark wizard at the least, and had—" The witch's voice dropped to a dire tone. "Dishonorable intentions toward my little Bertha. When she did not succumb to him, he did something dreadful to her, I know it!"

My eyes went to the large portrait on the wall. A plump, scowling girl stared at us with beady dark eyes out of a face that only a mother could imagine fanciable. I thought of my father's cousin and wondered if naming one's child Bertha doomed them to spinsterhood. My partner said gently, "We will do everything possible to locate your daughter." I gave the woman a receipt for the journal and promised to send an owl to the Albanian authorities the moment we returned to the office.

"Do…do you think you could do it?" Mrs. Jorkins asked Tom. "I'm sure they would give the matter priority if an Auror of such reputable family were to bring the matter to their attention."

Tom looked at me apologetically before assuring the woman he would do as she wished. Once outside the building, he said, "Sorry about that."

I shrugged. "Not your fault some old fashioned witch demands a big strong man with a proper wizarding family name takes charge." I looked up to see Mrs. Jorkins staring out a lace covered window. Metamorphosing my hair to neon pink, I flashed a backwards V and grinned at Tom. "Less work for me, and anyways, I got the most brilliant idea for a hex from Bertha's journal."

He smiled in anticipation. "What?"

I snickered and filled him in on our way back to the Ministry. The rest of the day flew by. After the aptly named lemmings hurled themselves out of the office, Tom, Julia, and I sat, making a triangle in the corridor of junior Aurors. Julia conjured a blue fire in a bell jar. Tom held up the memo notifying him that a complaint had been made to Supervisor Gulch. Eyes gleaming with mischief, we raised our wands and chanted the spell in unison. Once Tom dropped the memo into the fire, the ashes swirled and rose and began to drift toward a cubicle closest to the more senior Aurors.

We stood. Julia put away the jar, smirking. "Harriet the spy will have a hard time explaining those purple pustules tomorrow."

Tom shook his head. "I partnered with her one time, refused her offer of a drink, and she does this?"

Julia and I smiled at each other. We knew why Harriet had been so shirty. The saying wasn't "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" for nothing. I said, "At least we're kind enough to make the pustules temporary. If we were vindictive, she might've been covering them up with makeup for life."

My friends invited me out for a drink, but I told them I had plans. Once outside the Ministry doors, my plans changed. Someone was waiting for me.

"Wotcher, Tonks," Cami said with a poor attempt at lightness. "Got time to talk?"

.

A/N: Our Tonks has an eventful life, doesn't she? I enjoyed putting Bertha Jorkins in the chap. I always wondered if she was a 'Harriet the Spy' type, lol, and if she'd kept a journal of wrongdoings like a junior Filch, heh. Thanks for the reviews, I reviewers like 40/16 Alaska Steele Amy baka-onna2003 Carnivalgirl cupcakeswirl devillish angel eleen ElspethBates Embellished Emmeline Black Fawkes309 FNP Godricgal GraceRichie ishandahalf kathaania krum-fan Longbottom MamaLisa NalaravatheRed NazgulGirl Neurotica paulalou- plzkthx101 Quicksilver Foxx Ruby Shannan silliana Sivaroobini Lupin-Black Slipknot- 3113 Slytherin Love Goddess stuck-in-a-tree sunny9847 Super Kawaii Lamb