4 November 1979

Loud pounding woke Dora early that Sunday morning. The insistent, urgent pounding on her door startled her – was it possible she was needed at work?

She dressed hastily and went to her door to look out the peephole, surprised to find Sirius and Remus on the other side. Her security wards were complicated enough that only half a dozen people other than her were permitted within three feet of her front door. Sirius and Remus were two of those half dozen.

Irritated and curious, Dora swung the door open.

"Show me your Patronuses," Dora ordered, pointing her wand at them both. "Sirius, if it's you, transform into an Animagus as well."

Sirius transformed into Padfoot and back, and cast his matching Patronus. Remus followed, casting his wolf Patronus and having it trot around Dora's flat.

"Fine, come in," Dora said tiredly. Sirius and Remus followed her into the flat, and sat down on two mismatched armchairs. Dora sat across from them on her bed. They were looking at each other, communicating with their eyes.

"Care to tell me why you're here at this hour?" Dora said grouchily.

Remus glanced at Sirius, and gestured for him to speak.

"My cousin Andromeda invited us to her house yesterday for a birthday lunch," Sirius ventured. "Her new home."

Dora's eyes widened; the Tonkses' new home was the same home she'd shown Sirius and Remus many times in the Room of Requirement.

"You know something," Remus said pointedly. "Why did their home look so much like—"

"—like my 'American' home?" Dora supplied, with both Sirius and Remus nodding at her.

Dora ran her hands through her hair, considering her options. In her original timeline and memory, they had been shocked to see her as Tonks, but it was also the first time Tonks had met Remus. Things were different now; little Tonks had known Remus for years.

"Alright," Dora exhaled heavily. "You two are bound to have questions." She unmorphed the Unbreakable Vow scars on her wrists and hands, which revealed an incredulous stare from Sirius.

"These prevent me from saying a lot of things," Dora explained. "You'll have to ask questions carefully, as I can't give anything away. I can also show you things, but only so much."

"Show us?" Sirius asked.

Dora morphed from Pandora to what she looked like most naturally – heart-shaped face, darker grey eyes, mousy brown hair, and pale skin.

"You're a Metamorphmagus?" Sirius asked. He turned to Remus. "Did you know this? Why the fuck didn't anyone tell me?"

"I did," Remus replied. "Things are making more sense now, but I'm not sure if that's supposed to be a relief or not."

Dora morphed the dark circles away from her eyes and morphed her hair pink, one of her favorite shades across any timeline.

"I am a Metamorphmagus, which should help guide your questions," Dora said to Sirius. "These scars are the reason you don't know a lot of things about me, but if you ask properly, I might be able to answer."

"Are you Tonks?" Sirius blurted. "Somehow?"

Dora smiled weakly and nodded. Both Sirius and Remus sat speechless for several moments as they looked at each other and back at Dora.

"How?" Remus asked, looking deeply unsettled.

"Ask differently."

"What if we ask if there are two of her?" Sirius muttered.

"She already said she was Tonks," Remus countered. "How do we ask without asking?"

"I can nod or shake my head," Dora informed. "Think 'yes or no' questions."

"Are you Nymphadora Tonks?" Remus asked.

Dora nodded.

"Are you from another universe?" Sirius asked, with Remus glaring at him.

"Another universe? Have you been reading Muggle science fiction?" Remus muttered hotly.

"It's a good question," Sirius whispered.

Dora cleared her throat. "I can hear you both, you know. Just ask your questions and I'll reply as best I can."

Sirius punched Remus lightly in the shoulder, earning a scowl from him.

"Another universe?" Sirius asked again hopefully. Dora shook her head.

"Another time?" Remus offered. Dora nodded.

"How long?" Sirius asked.

"Ask it differently," Dora said, through gritted teeth.

Over the course of an hour, the two men struggled with Dora to learn the truth. Her patience was growing thin, as neither had the skills in Legilimency to get the information out of her with ease.

"Let me try something different," Dora said, in exhaustion. With a flick of her wand, a quill, ink pot, and parchment came into her hands. The only sound in the flat for several minutes was the sound of her quill scratching against the parchment as she wrote her thoughts out.

"Read this," Dora said, shoving the parchment into Remus' hands. "Out loud, so I know if I was successful in getting the information across."

Remus held the parchment carefully and began to read. "From the future. Can't say how or when. Nymphadora and I are the same, but at different times. No idea of how, when, or if I'll return to my time. I know I've changed things. Don't ask me what, how, or why. I'm sorry I've kept this from you. You need to understand I had no choice in the matter. I've done my best."

"Is all this true?" Sirius said, once Remus had finished reading.

"Yes," Dora replied curtly. "That's all I can tell you. There's more written on the parchment, but if that's all Remus could see, then the Unbreakable Vow I made with Dumbledore some time ago is even more effective than I thought."

"How many years ago?" Remus asked.

"I can't tell you, but you can figure it out, I reckon," Dora said heavily. "You're both taking this better than I imagined."

"We had our moments last night," Remus said darkly. "How old are you?"

"There's a charm for that."

Remus cast the Age Detection Charm, and counted the stars. 33.

Dora grimaced upon hearing her age. Remus and Sirius were barely twenty.

Remus' brow furrowed, and Sirius' eyes bulged upon hearing the number. "How long have you been here?" asked Sirius.

"How long have you known Pandora?"

Sirius rubbed his temples, deep in thought. "You came from America in our first year…eight years."

"There you have it. Do the math."

"You were twenty five when I met you?" Remus yelped. "And all we…good Godric, no wonder you wanted to wait!" Remus ran his hands through his shaggy hair until his eyes grew wide.

"Fuck, Dora, that means…how old was I when…how old were you in that…" Remus began sputtering as his hands got tangled in his hair.

Dora snatched the parchment back from Remus and began scribbling furiously on it to answer some of his questions, hoping the Vow would enable her to get the most crucial information out.

"Read this for him," Dora ordered Sirius. "Don't give too much thought to who's who in the timelines. It's all me, Dora, Nymphadora, Tonks, okay?"

Sirius trembled as he took the parchment and read aloud. "First timeline: N. twenty four, R, thirty six. Second timeline: N. twenty five, R. twelve. First kiss—"

"—Eww, Dora, I'm not reading this," Sirius said, disgusted. "Let Moony read it all."

"You were a fan of our relationship in all times," Dora said drily. "Read it."

Sirius grumbled under his breath about time traveling baby cousins, and continued reading. "First kiss: N. twenty four, R. thirty six. Second first kiss: N. twenty nine, R. sixteen. First shag, any timeline—"

"—ugh, Dora, this is nauseating—"

"—keep reading, dear cousin—"

Sirius cleared his throat. "First shag, any timeline: N. thirty, R. seventeen. Waiting was brutal for us both, for obviously different reasons."

Remus snatched the parchment from Sirius' hands and read through the figures carefully. His mouth opened and closed as he traced the numbers from the timelines.

"I'm twelve years older than you," Remus finally said. "You're a child."

"Not at the moment. I'm thirty three now, after all. You were a child for years."

"That's different," Remus said harshly. "You're a little girl."

"No, little Tonks is," Dora retorted. "Me, Dora, is older Tonks. Older Tonks is 33."

Remus wrung his hands together, his brow furrowing, and frowning deeply.

"Let me help you," Dora said gently. "The little witch you know as Tonks and the older witch you know as Dora are likely to remain two different people for the rest of time."

"What?!" Sirius yelped. "You're not – going back? Going forward?"

"Do you want me to?"

"No," Remus said forcefully. "I…I'm not being involved with a child."

"I'm not asking you to be," Dora said flatly. "I'm telling you that there's almost no chance of there being only one of us. Something catastrophically terrible would have to happen."

"So you're with us forever?" Sirius wondered.

"It would appear so," Dora said evenly. "As I mentioned before, there's precious little I can tell you until the timelines match up."

"Honestly, it's really starting not to matter at all that this happened. I've changed so much, I know, that the future you'll have will be better than the one I came from," Dora continued. 'When the time is right, I'll tell you what could've been, but not a moment sooner."

"You can't tell us anything?" Remus asked, crestfallen. "Do we win this war?"

"I can't tell you."

"Is there anything you can tell us?" Sirius asked eagerly. "What happens to us?"

"At this point, I really can't say," Dora said truthfully. "I know I've changed things. Just let the future unfold and let the pieces fall where they may."

"…Voldemort," Remus said softly. "That's why you've been working as a double agent for years."

"Yeah. Not exactly a walk in the park."

"Merlin, Dora, if only we'd known! We could've helped you!" Sirius cried. "I've been – please forgive me."

Remus put his head in his hands, trembling where he sat.

"I'm afraid I'll need to ask you both to do an Unbreakable Vow, or else I'll have to obliviate you," Dora said grimly. "It's me who needs forgiveness, anyway, not you."

Sirius opened his mouth in protest. "You can't just obliviate us!"

"Then make the Unbreakable Vow."

"Just do it, Sirius," Remus grumbled. "If she's working with Voldemort and the Order, no one can know about this, obviously. You don't want her to die, do you?"

Sirius relented, and Dora performed the Unbreakable Vow, sealing Sirius and Remus to silence until Nymphadora Tonks herself confirmed the account, without revealing an end date. Years before, Dora had put the horcruxes and vials of memories in Grimmauld Place's secret library, to be given to Tonks or those who survived her after the supposed Battle at the Department of Mysteries in 1996. If the battle never occurred, Tonks would be given the information, and both she and Dora could decide how to break it to their family and friends, or so she assumed.

"I'm going to need a minute," Remus said, after several moments of tense silence following the Unbreakable Vow. He stood and went to the door, slamming it shut on his way out.

"Follow him," Dora told Sirius. "I'll wait for him to be ready to talk."

"Was everything a lie, Dora?" Sirius asked, a lost look in his eyes. "Did we ever really know you?"

"Everything you know about me is everything I could give you," Dora replied truthfully. "And everything I've done…it's been for you."

Sirius' eyes flashed with a mixture of betrayal and understanding. He brought his fist to his mouth, as if to keep himself from speaking.

"It's going to take a while to get used to this."

"I know. I'm still not used to it," Dora smiled weakly. "I'll be here, whenever you're both ready."

Sirius opened his mouth, but closed it before saying anything. He slipped out of Dora's front door, and she sat back on her bed.

It was time for another conversation with Dumbledore.

5 November 1979

"Many happy returns to you," Dumbledore said airily, upon seeing Dora walk into his office.

"Thanks."

"I see this is not a purely social visit?"

"Remus and Sirius found out," she said flatly. "They agreed to the Unbreakable Vow yesterday and I sealed it myself."

"I see." Dumbledore stood up from his chair and walked to Fawkes's perch to stroke the top of his head softly. "How are you?"

"Panicked? Relieved? Terrified? I honestly don't know how to answer that."

"Does this change anything for you?"

"Maybe," Dora mumbled. "I'd like my friends back but they didn't take it so well. Remus stormed out of my flat and Sirius followed."

"They may need time to adjust to the idea. As long as they've agreed to the Vow, I trust them with your identity." Dumbledore's expression was as serene as ever, as he pet Fawkes gently. Fawkes looked worse for wear, and when he opened his beak to utter a cry, he burst into flames before Dora's eyes.

"I know he's supposed to do that, but I think that's the first time I've ever seen him—" Dora flailed her arms around, imitating an explosion. Dumbledore chuckled softly and peered down at the pile of ashes, which began stirring with the sound of a tiny phoenix.

"Marvelous creatures, aren't they?" He hummed at the baby phoenix, now emerging from the ashes with a weak cry. "What luck that he had a burning day on Guy Fawkes Day, no?"

Dora pursed her lips. While admittedly fascinating to see a reborn phoenix, it solved none of her problems. "Err…I don't mean to be rude, but what am I going to do? I dreamt of telling them who I was for years but now that they know…they're just so disappointed."

"Be patient with them and with yourself," Dumbledore said kindly. He patted Fawkes gently on his head and returned to his seat. "It will take some time for Fawkes to show his colors again. It will take some time for both of them to see who you are."

"What if they don't like what they see?" Dora said dejectedly. "I've done nothing but lie to them for years."

"Then it is their loss," Dumbledore replied firmly. "I've had the opportunity to get to know you and all your colors, and while you've had your setbacks, I am very pleased to have you among my friends."

"Friends?" Dora brightened upon hearing this. For years she'd thought of Dumbledore as a mystical, larger-than-life figure; she supposed this might have been how her "uncle" Jacob Kowalski must have felt after becoming friends with wizards.

"Yes, and as your friend," Dumbledore said slowly, "I recommend you enjoy what remains of your birthday." He peered at the clock, which showed it was already past curfew for Hogwarts students. Though infuriatingly unhelpful sometimes, Albus Dumbledore did know how to lift her spirits, as he sent her off with several boxes of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans as a birthday gift.

She had popped a honey-flavored bean into her mouth just as she arrived to the front door of her flat. It almost got stuck in her throat when saw Remus waiting for her.

"Remus?" she said, shaking her head slightly to ensure she wasn't seeing an apparition.

"Dora." Hearing her name from his warm, hoarse voice made her heart ache against her will.

"I hope you haven't been waiting long…I went to see Dumbledore."

"I've been here an hour."

"Is there something you need?"

"I was hoping we could talk…inside, if you don't mind." His gold-flecked eyes met hers; she felt weak at the knees upon meeting them.

Dora let them through her wards. They tossed their cloaks and boots aside, and Remus joined her in the kitchen while she got tea ready for them. When the tea had been poured, she set the cups down behind her. She needed to apologize to him before he walked out on her; there was no other reason he could have wanted to see her after the recent, life-changing news.

"I came to say—"

"—is there—"

They spoke at the same time and though Remus gestured for her to speak first, she refused.

"Right. I came here to tell you I'm sorry," he said softly. "It wasn't—"

Dora shook her head furiously and put her hands up to stop him.

"—Remus, none of this is your fault. I'm older than you, I had to keep secrets from you, and you were hurt in the process. I'm the one who should be apologizing. I am apologizing. I'm so sorry – you'll never know how sorry I am that I hurt you. I don't know if Sirius told you what I said after you stormed off…all of this I've done, it's all been for you. I neverwanted to hurt you."

His chest heaved erratically and his hands trembled at his sides. The gold in his eyes flashed more furiously than she had ever seen it; she prepared for the worst – for his rage, the well-deserved fury for her web of lies—

In an instant he'd closed the space between them and brought his face to hers. His hands were at her waist, and he pressed his lips against hers, kissing her hungrily. A fire ignited inside her veins. She melted into him, kissing him and moaning against the feeling of his warm breath intermingling with hers.

He stopped abruptly and took a step back. His eyes were fully gold now and his trousers were tight.

"I don't care how old you are. I don't care that you're a time traveler," Remus said in a low, gravelly voice. "Dora, you're all I've wanted for years. Now that I know the truth…I need you. All of you, whoever you are and whenever you've been. I should've trusted you."

He closed the space between them and set his hands on her hips. He closed his eyes and bent his head down; Dora felt the hot, ragged breaths on her neck as he inhaled her scent deeply.

"Please take me back, Dora," he whispered. "I need you."

She moved her head up and reached her hands up to rest on his cheeks. "It's only ever been you. You know who I really am now…and I'm yours."

Something seemed to break within Remus, as his eyes flew open and he captured her mouth again for another long, hungry kiss. Their clothes came flying off minutes later as they moved from her kitchen to her bed. It had been too long since she'd had his touch on her body, and she spent her birthday making love to the man she'd loved for almost a decade.

10 November 1979

"Dora? Can I ask you something about your…other you?" Remus said hesitantly. He held out a cup of tea for her and set it down on her narrow end table.

"I don't know if I'll be able to answer it, but be my guest."

"You said you don't expect the two of you to become one again?"

"It's all but impossible. Unless someone creates a Time Turner specific enough to merge me in the future, I'll have changed so much I won't recognize the world I'm in." Dora took a long sip of her tea, letting the warm liquid fill her with its comfort. "There are two of me, whether I like it or not."

Remus sighed in obvious relief and sank down into an armchair. "Good. One of you is plenty for me."

Dora winked at him and took another sip of her tea. It felt unbelievably freeing to have him know who she was; she felt she too could relax around him and be more of herself.

"Now that we've gotten that out of the way, am I to understand you're living with me now?" Dora asked wryly. Remus shifted uneasily in his seat and she shook with laughter at his plight.

"If…if it's okay with you?"

"I assumed as much, seeing as you're not back with the werewolves. I hope you intend to stay with me. Those packs aren't going anywhere," she said matter-of-factly. "I don't want you ripping yourself apart every month for no reason."

"I still won't be able to get a job."

"Don't worry about that." He slumped in his seat, scowling, at her words. She reached out and took his hand, rubbing her thumb on the back of it gently. "The Order's work is important – we need people on missions. You can always get a part time job at a Muggle place if you really want it."

"I don't want to have to live off of you."

"I've got an obscene amount of old pureblood gold at my fingertips," she said, shrugging. "I'd be happy to spend it on us, a half-blood, time-traveling, blood traitor Metamorphmagus and a half-blood werewolf any day."

"Try saying all that five times fast," he muttered to himself, shaking his head at her. He took his hand away from hers to fold his arms against his chest.

"You know what I mean. Get a part time job at a Muggle place and do missions in your free time," Dora said carefully. "Spend time with your friends while you have the time."

"What makes you think—" his eyes grew wide and he stared up at her, horrified. "—are they all going to die?!"

"You know that even if I could answer that, I wouldn't. I have no idea who will or won't die. As I said before, I've changed too much to know one way or the other. It freaks me out to know I could've prevented some kids' births!"

Remus gaped at her, holding his teacup just inches from its saucer. She shrugged and went back to her tea, allowing him to collect himself.

"Have you prevented any—"

"—the ones I know best from my time? No idea. I'm not telling you anything, Remus. I literally can't."

"What if you wrote it down?"

Dora shook her head vigorously. "The best I can do is tell you if the right kid is born around the right time…blimey, I only know when one of them was born."

"Will I have any—"

"Stop," Dora snapped. "I'm not telling you anything. I've told you what I can."

Remus scowled into his teacup. While she understood his desire to know the future, it would be too dangerous for her to tell him anything else.

"Remus, it's better not to know. I promise. My Uncle Al figured out that he wasn't going to live much longer than he did, and it broke my heart when it finally happened. I didn't have any control over it." She wiped a tear from her eye, recalling how kind Al had been to her. "Regulus was similar."

Remus's jaw dropped again. "He was?"

"I didn't know when or how…I thought I'd done enough…it's my fault." She began sobbing; Regulus's death was still raw for her. She missed her cousin terribly, wishing she'd said something to him about the horcruxes before he died in obtaining one of them.

"It's not your fault, Dora." Remus sat down beside her on the narrow sofa, which let her sob against his chest. He rubbed soothing circles on her back while she wept and whispered reassuring words in her ear.

"It is," she said miserably. "If I'd told him – if I'd said something, anything!"

"You couldn't have known everything," he said softly.

"But I knew enough!" She wept into his jumper, clutching him tightly. She'd been grieving Regulus's death alone for months, carrying the burden of guilt and shame with her since their almost-marriage.

"It's okay…it's not your fault…you're doing the best you can." He repeated these words in a hushed tone, holding her closer still. The strength of his hold slowly calmed her. Her breaths grew steadier as she inhaled his familiar scent.

"Dora, you can't blame yourself for everything that happens," he murmured. "It's not your fault. You can't know everything."

"I know," she said thickly, letting the tears continue to fall on her cheeks. "It hurts just as much, knowing I can't prevent all of the losses."

"Is there any way I can help you?" he asked softly. "I know you can't tell me anything, but if I can help you…please let me."

Dora considered his offer; until the prophecy was made regarding Harry Potter – if he was even conceived by now – she merely had to wait. The diary and Hufflepuff cup horcruxes were still away from her grasp; they were the only two she knew of that remained.

It wasn't as if Remus could waltz into Malfoy Manor or the Lestrange vaults to obtain the remaining horcruxes, she thought grimly.

"There's nothing either of us can do right now," she said truthfully, wiping her tears away on his threadbare jumper. "Just hold me?"

"I'll be here for you, Dora. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you again, no matter what happens."

Dora tightened her grip on him; she'd lost him too many times to consider doing anything again to risk losing him again. She nodded against him and let him hold her, feeling a slight glimmer of hope knowing that they would never lose each other again.

30 November 1979

Dora smiled softly to herself in the lift on her way to the Department of Mysteries. Waking up next to Remus every day for the last few weeks had brought her comfort and a sense of safety she hadn't felt in months. With the exception of her weekly "family dinners" with the Lestranges and Voldemort, she felt happier on a daily basis than she had in months. She sighed contentedly, relishing in their reunion and revelation of her true identity.

"You're in a good mood," said Bode, interrupting her thoughts, and arching a brow at her. "Unusual for you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she snapped.

"There you are," Bode said, chuckling and shaking his head. "You're either enthusiastic or irritable most days."

"I did just lose my cousin and uncle in the last few months," she retorted, as the doors to the lift opened to the corridor containing the door to the Department of Mysteries.

"Well, not for nothing, you've been chipper lately. Whatever you've been doing, it's good for you."

Dora tried to keep the grin off her face as she thought that it wasn't what she'd been doing, but who she'd been doing that kept her so happy.

"Whatever it is that you're doing," Bode said wryly, "keep at it." They opened the door to the Department of Mysteries and went to the center platform together. The Love Room opened for Dora and she cast the charm on her nose to keep from smelling the fountain of Amortentia so that she could work without the distraction.

The last few months, the Love Room had kept her busy with unusual work. She suspected that the Love Room knew as much about her as she did about it, as it seemed to reflect her moods with the work it asked of her. Since Regulus's death, it had presented her with letters involving grief, mourning, and anguished attempts at necromancy.

She had also spent an unreasonable amount of time researching the Resurrection Stone, as its ties to grief and revival stemmed out of love for the deceased. It was all heart-wrenching work, but it had been therapeutic for her in her own grief at the loss of Regulus.

In the last week, however, her work shifted completely from the magic at end of life to the magic at the beginning of life. It was jarring to have the Love Room present her not with tales of sorrow, death, and heartache, but rather with the enchantment and magic of unbridled happiness, hope, and new life.

Dora supposed at first that it had to do with her newly rekindled relationship with Remus. The Love Room seemed to respond to her and she to it – she'd learned by now it was part of the deep magic of the Department of Mysteries.

That Friday morning, she squawked loudly when her first task involved magical pregnancy. That seemed very, very wrong.

She worked through the first task, which resulted in a short study on the flow of magic from mother to child. She wondered if there was a difference in the genesis of Muggleborn children versus Squib children, and the next two cases the Love Room produced for her were on these subjects.

As she studied the accounts of gestation of Muggleborns and Squibs, she supposed it wasn't too odd that pregnancy was on her mind. If Harry Potter was to be born at the end of next July, he should have been conceived by now. Draco Malfoy, too, was likely to have been conceived, as well as all the other fifth years Tonks had left behind at the Battle in the Department of Mysteries.

In fact, seeing as it was nearing the end of 1979, some of the older fifth years would've been already born. She relaxed into her work, thinking it merely a manifestation of her hope that the fifth years she left behind were finally on the horizon of life.

It was near the end of her work day when she worried that something was wrong.

The Love Room refused to open the door to her on her way out of it. Instead, she got the niggling feeling in the back of her mind that she was forgetting something. She set her things down and walked around the Love Room, seeking an answer.

A parchment fluttered down from a high shelf and Dora rolled her eyes. The Love Room had a mind of its own, she thought, and it had a message for her.

Her brow furrowed when she unfurled the parchment to find instructions for the use of an unnamed potion, as well as a milky white potion in a single vial.

"You expect me to do this?" she asked aloud, knowing the Love Room wouldn't reply. She sighed and unstoppered the vial. The potion required a drop of her blood, and she made a small cut in her fingertip to put a droplet of the blood into the vial. It bubbled instantly, becoming glittery and silvery.

The potion's instructions included an empty circle. She was to place a droplet of the potion in the center of the circle. Upon placing the droplet there, the circle filled in with twelve slices numbered one through twelve. She watched in wonder as the slices illuminated one by one, until the line between slice seven and eight shone brightly.

Dora frowned at it, wondering what it meant, until small script began appearing at the top of the parchment, indicating the purpose of the potion.

Her heart nearly stopped when she realized the truth: she was pregnant with Remus Lupin's child.