The next morning, Remus stood in a desolate field in the middle of Yorkshire, magically moving earth around. That task was occupying only a small part of his thoughts. They were chiefly devoted to berating himself for losing control the previous evening. However he might feel about Tonks, he was still too old, too poor and too dangerous. Although, apparently Tonks was quite partial to a bit of danger. He squelched that thought in its tracks and forced himself to remember that it just would not work out. Needless to say, it was quite difficult to persuade himself.
He was almost relieved when a crash ripped him out of his introspection. The bang had come from another field behind a line of trees, where the Muggle part of the Parkinson operation was busy laying bricks on a previously excavated piece of land. Remus had showed up early and been given a tour of the building sites. The wizarding supervisor had also asked him to demonstrate his healing skills. He had been suitably impressed, and given 'John Lupin' the responsibility for checking out accidents, on both the Muggle and magical parts of the site. Apparently the company did its best to take good care of the Muggle workers.
The line of trees represented the border of a Notice-Me-Not Charm, and on stepping through, Remus saw a much busier construction site. He did not yet understand why the Parkinsons were using Muggle labour for the actual building work. The site of the accident was clear: one man was on the floor in the mud, surrounded by several colleagues. Remus pushed his way through to the front row, shouting, "John Lupin, paramedic." His boss had been quite impressed with his healing skills, and had tasked him to act as 'emergency medical personnel' on both sides of the tree line.
People moved away rapidly, and he quickly examined the scene. The Muggle had been on some scaffolding, and had obviously slipped and fallen several metres. His wand was concealed inside a plastic box that had been decorated with some Muggle symbols that Remus did not quite understand. He surreptitiously flourished it and cast a silent, invisible, Examination Spell. The Muggle had severe bruising on the back, and a long cut up the side of his left leg, but nothing too serious. Remus silently healed the cut, leaving only a small part open to explain the presence of blood, and soothed the bruises. After a few seconds pretending to do a more physical examination, Remus said, "You'll be alright, mate. No major harm done." He stood up and helped lift the man up. "You just take it easy for a couple of hours – your back will be a bit sore. You fall off that platform?"
The man nodded, and said gruffly, "My own stupid fault. I spilled a bit of oil and didn't clean it in time. Lucky it's nothing more serious. Cheers Lupin."
Remus' boss came over as the crowd drifted away. "Excellent work, John, excellent. I knew you'd make a good choice for our 'paramedic'." He pronounced the Muggle word slowly, checking that he was saying it correctly. "We want to make sure that our Muggle colleagues are treated very well, and come to no harm during the construction. This company has an extremely good safety record, you know. No major injuries ever!"
Remus nodded, and the boss spotted his fatigue. "It takes it out of a body, though, all that silent stuff. Come on, let's get you a cup of tea."
The working day was long, but nothing else of import happened. Remus tried to scope out some information on the building plans, but his fellow workers all seemed to be in the dark and the bosses did not stop to chat overlong with underlings. Everyone clocked off at five in the afternoon, and when some of the wizards on-site invited him to join them for a drink, he quickly accepted.
They went into the Hengist's Cup and commandeered a table in one of the corners. Remus bought the first round, as the newbie. He braced together the four pint glasses and carried them over to the table, handing them round. One of his new friends, a certain Alfred Wallace, had picked up a copy of the Prophet somewhere, and had laid it out on the table. The main story was of great interest. Apparently the Ministry had announced today that, due to a series of Muggle sightings and concomitant problems for the Ministry's Obliviator squads, a Broom Control Plan was now in operation. The Ministry was requesting that all people undertaking a journey greater than half a mile file a flight plan with the newly created Department of Broom Affairs. The flight plan could be filed, via owl, seconds before take-off, and participation would be strictly voluntary. Remus shook his head; another reason to Apparate everywhere.
His co-workers all thought that it sounded like an eminently reasonable idea; nobody wanted Muggles to be exposed to too much Obliviation. The long-term effects had yet to be fully evaluated.
The others all bought their rounds in due course, and by the time they moved to leave, it was nine o'clock. Remus had learned precious little, other than that his colleagues did not eat regular dinners.
After losing sight of the others, he Apparated to Diagon Alley and decided to use the twenty minute walk back to 54 Mulligan Street to clear his head. No-one was home, so Remus took a few seconds to clean up and get rid of his make-up. Fully restored to old-age, he contemplated heading out to the Green Dragon, but then decided that he did not have the energy. Or perhaps he was avoiding seeing Tonks. Or perhaps he was just too tired. He decided that the latter was definitely the case, and headed off to bed.
The next morning, he saw no sign of Tonks before he left for work, although he did not know if that meant she was already at work, or still in bed. He did not see her that evening either, but there was a note addressed to Rems on the kitchen table saying that she had to go 'undercover' for a couple of days on assignment.
By Saturday morning, she had still not returned. Hermione had Apparated by at about eleven-thirty, to say that the analysis of the potion would take a bit longer than expected, but that she should have more details by the following Wednesday or Thursday. Remus had thought that she looked a bit stressed, and so had suggested going to the Green Dragon to grab a bite to eat. When Hermione had hesitated, Remus had said desperately that he thought he needed a second opinion on his observations of the Parkinson Manor. She had relented and come along.
Draco was at the bar when they arrived. Remus made eye contact with him, and then watched as he leaned against the bar, smirking. As they arrived to order, Draco said,"What can I get you lovely ladies?" He then proceeded to wink saucily, although Remus was not quite sure if the wink was directed at him or at Hermione.
Hermione sniffed. "Slumming, are you, Draco?" It slowly occurred to Remus that it might have been a good idea to warn her that Draco worked here.
Draco looked briefly alarmed at the word 'Draco', but quickly resumed his nonchalant pose. "Well, I wouldn't call it that, Granger. I think all of the people here are perfectly respectable. Perhaps your head's been turned by the high society you keep?"
Hermione appeared to be stunned by this rejoinder and remained silent. Remus stepped in, "Now, Drake, that wasn't at all what Hermione meant, and you know it. Now, can we have two pints and two menus."
Draco smirked and turned to pull the pints, while Remus led Hermione to a table. He nipped back and picked up the two pints and shot a warning glance at Draco, but it slid over him like water off a duck's back. When he say down, Hermione launched into a rant. "I cannot believe the cheek of him. I mean, Draco Malfoy, saying that to me. As if he gives a damn about anybody here."
Remus said calmly, "Don't be too hasty, Hermione. He's not the boy he was. You should give him the benefit of the doubt."
Hermione snorted. "He's still the same as ever. Just reduced to working in a Muggle bar. That's irony for you. I bet it eats him alive every day, that he has to serve Muggles."
Remus thought that she was now sporting a very ugly sneer, but decided to let the matter drop. Instead, he started to tell her about his experiences at the Parkinson Manor, to see if she could make anything of them. Unfortunately, the bad guys weren't doing anything overtly villainous. In fact, they seemed to be model employers.
After this font of conversation had dried up, Remus felt increasingly uncomfortable, and suddenly saw his younger self, letting Sirius and James get away with whatever they liked. On an impulse, he said, "Look, Hermione, don't hold his family against Drake. I honestly think he's changed."
Hermione glanced over at the bar, and gave a small shrug. "I ... I guess so."
Remus looked at her intently; he had the distinct impression that she wanted to talk about something. Before he could ask, she stepped in. "Are you alright, Remus? You seem really, I don't now, disconnected. Is it all the anti stuff in the papers? Do you want to talk about it?"
When Remus did not respond, Hermione lowered her voice even further. "Is it Tonks? Is she okay?"
Remus could feel his cheeks heating, and so he looked away. "I haven't seen her for a couple of days, actually. Work, that sort of thing."
When Hermione next spoke, her voice was uncharacteristically uncertain. "Has something happened between you two?"
Remus whipped his head round to look her straight in the eyes, about to issue a denial, but found that he could not. Hermione's brown eyes seemed to be full of warmth and friendship. When he had not said anything for a few moments, Hermione reached over and patted his shoulder. "I'm sure it will work out for the best. Right, I'd best be off. I'll contact you later in the week." She stood up and headed out. She paused at the bar, and said loudly, "Drake. I've been told you're a reformed character. Is it true?"
Draco turned from what he was doing, and opened his arms wide. Before he could reply, one of the regulars at the bar piped up. "Ol' Drake? Reformed? Sooner teach an old dog new tricks. You be careful, missy, that boy's trouble."
Draco turned and said, "Hey! Don't go blackening my name without permission." Hermione laughed and walked out. Remus just shook his head in puzzlement, before getting up in turn to make his way back to 54 Mulligan Street. He walked in to find Tonks in the living room, obviously having just Flooed in.