Meet the Squib

by SweetDeamon

"And it's a sick, stagnant society, Pan. It's not going anywhere and it never truly has been! Somebody ought to fix it. Somebody ought make it better..." Set in the AU 'Meet the...' 'ficverse. TLOC RLNT.

14. Revulsions, Compulsions And

Note: Alternative Title: The Longest Chapter Ever Written. That's probably a more appropriate name than the one written below! This chapter has so many different things packed into it that I have no decent ideas for a name!

I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Tivafivanatomy, who seems to be ploughing her way through quite a few of my 'fics! Of course I have no idea if she is/is going to read this one...but just in case...!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

14: Revulsions, Compulsions, And Plenty Else Besides

Sat upon the grimy steps that led up to a boarded up shop's door, Valbona Luga gazed down at that morning's edition of the Daily Prophet. Dora had, yet again, made front page news, though how the reporters had managed to dedicate an entire two-page article to the fact that she had been spotted by a lurking reporter in the Ministry's Atrium first thing that morning was entirely beyond comprehension. Valbona had no doubt that Dora would be entirely unimpressed by the Prophet's apparent obsession with her, if she even found the time to glance at a newspaper. Not that Valbona expected such spare moments would even exist.

The Albanian Auror yawned widely, reaching to rub a hand across her eyes and silently cursing the Albanian Auror Department who, at some unearthly hour that morning, had sent her a shrieking Howler that had not only screeched at her loud enough to wake half the inhabitants of the Leaky Cauldron in which she was staying, but had also succeeded in bursting into flames above her bed, setting the sheets on fire. Mrs. Longbottom had been unimpressed to say the least to receive complaints about the commotion, so much so that Valbona had decided against confessing to her the singed state of the bed linen. She had left the pub before breakfast, leaving housekeeping to discover the mess for themselves. The whole incident had left Valbona feeling distinctly bad tempered and despite it being little before noon she was feeling dreadfully tired. She tried to think of precisely how exhausted Dora was no doubt feeling by this time of the day, but the comparison did not make her feel any better. After all, Valbona had been sat in the street for the past two hours, her paper cup of coffee had long since been drunk, and it looked likely to rain.

She stared blankly over at the dusty window of the shop opposite; Fentworth's Finest Wizardwear, and tried to remind herself why she was there.

It was all for Rovena.

It had taken some time to track down her elusive estranged relatives, but after examining newspapers, knocking on countless doors and writing numerous enquiring letters, Valbona had finally tracked down her step-mother, Roza Luga who, much to Valbona's amusement, was working as a seamstress at Fentworth's in a shabby side street off Diagon Alley. Long gone appeared to be the days when Roza and Valbona's sister-in-law Marigona were kept women. Having bothered to pick up very few skills over the course of their pampered and privileged lives, Valbona seriously doubted their ability to keep Rovena in the manner to which she was accustomed. Their apparent fall from grace was something of a surprise to Valbona because Rovena herself had seemed very well dressed when they had last met.

It was painful, thinking of the last time she had met Rovena. The things her darling girl had said stung Valbona all over again when she thought of them, sometimes they brought tears to her eyes, sometimes she wanted to give up and go home...

But Valbona Luga had never given up on anything in living memory. She wasn't entirely sure that she even knew how to give up. After all, if she gave up on Rovena, what else would she have left in the world? Back home she did little except eat, sleep and work, and no matter how long she worked, how many awards or accolades she won, the truth of the matter was that being an Auror had never, and would never, make Valbona Luga happy. It was just a job. Something to occupy her time. Something to try and be good at in the vain hope that she might feel pride at the end of the day when she left the office and went home to her too-large, too-empty house.

And it was ironic, she supposed, that her obsession with simply having something to be good at was precisely the reason why she was not a great Auror in the first place.

Because a great Auror would have no ambitions for greatness. A great Auror's only ambition was to do a good job for the good of the wider community, not for personal gain.

Dora Lupin was a great Auror. Valbona had known this from the moment she had first encountered her. She had first come across Dora during a radio broadcast on the WWN in which the Aurors selected for the British National Duelling Team that year had been interviewed briefly by the Minister for Magic. Valbona had just arrived in Britain with the rest of the Albanian team and had been lying on her bed in her designated bedroom, absentmindedly fiddling with the wireless when she had come across the broadcast. The mere sound of Dora's voice had instantly fuelled a deep hatred inside Valbona, that she had held since her brother Valon had lost his position in the Albanian Auror Department thanks to Dora's complaints. Yet despite this it had not escaped Valbona's notice that Dora had been very different from the other Aurors who were being interviewed. She had been frank, disapproving and downright sullen, as if the entire event was a waste of her time. She had even gone as far as to comment that the Aurors ought get back to doing some proper work. Dora's disinterest in competition had resonated with Valbona upon first meeting her in person in the Leaky Cauldron. Though she had responded to Valbona's threats to crush her in the upcoming contest, Dora had merely insisted that she was not the sort of witch one could crush easily. It had taken an awful lot more probing to provoke her into threatening Valbona in return. She had very fixed ideas on what an Auror should and should not do, she practiced what she preached and despite hating her in the beginning Valbona had known even back then that Dora's ideas were fixated upon the greater good. She'd watched the British Auror drive herself to sickness in the pursuit of what was best for others, and Valbona had felt envy that Dora did all of this as second nature.

Selflessness. That's what made Dora a great Auror.
In comparison, Valbona felt she herself was unwaveringly selfish. She had chosen an impressive career out of entirely selfish motives, worked her way up through the ranks without caring about the job much at all. Meanwhile she had kept her inherited fortune and the house in the hope it might keep her relations from running from her...

Even attempting to rescue Rovena was selfish, Valbona mused dully as she continued to stare across the street. Was it truly for their own good to save somebody who had no interest in being saved? Was she only interested in saving Rovena so that Rovena in turn could save her from the eternal loneliness of life?

Thinking like that, she realised grimly, she might begin to question all that she did in life. Perhaps she might start to tell herself that dragging Dora out of the rubble had been selfish in some ridiculous fashion too...

Valbona gave herself a little shake and glanced down the street, just in time to see a figure round the corner.

It was Roza, of that Valbona had no doubt.

It had been some while since Valbona Luga had set eyes upon the step-mother who detested her so fiercely, and yet she recognised Roza Luga at a mere glance.

Her once striking looks now withered away by age, Roza's tall stature had grown hunched and her pale, smooth skin had worn thin like parchment. Her curly dark hair had grown pale and silver and her pace was akin to a hobble. Despite her faded glory, the witch had an air of aristocracy about her that age and worsening circumstances failed to shake off. She wore robes of rich emerald velvet, a stifling choice for the damp yet mild weather, and a wide brimmed witch's hat of rich black fabric encrusted in golden and silver beads that glittered even in the dim light as if they were gemstones. As she walked, her gaze staring blankly along the street as if she wasn't really looking at her grimy surroundings, her thin lips were pursed into an ever-disapproving thin line that gave her identity away instantly, her pale, silvery eyes forever icy.

Valbona watched with some satisfaction as the elderly witch approached the shop door, and as she reached to push open the door, the Auror sprang to her feet, failing to resist the urge to laugh loudly.

"Oh, how the mighty fall!" she called out to the witch in their native tongue, her tone triumphant and mocking, and Roza visibly jumped before spinning round to face her.

"What are you doing here?" the old witch hissed, eyes instantly narrowing to slits at the sight of Valbona striding across the cobbles towards her. "What do you want?!" Her English, bordering on non-existent the last they met, appeared to have progressed substantially during her stay in Britain, her accent less thick than Valbona's by far. That she chose to address Valbona in English did not escape the Auror's attention, she found the old woman's staunch refusal to revert to her mother tongue amusing, her attempts to blend in with the locals were all together futile. There was no doubt about it that Roza Luga would stick out like a sore thumb in Albania itself, let alone in a foreign country. When Valbona replied, she did so in Albanian for she was sure her step-mother found every single syllable an irritation.

Rather like Valbona's existence on Earth, in fact.

"I think you know perfectly well why I am here." Valbona said, coming to stand before the woman, and though Roza was forced to look up at the towering figure in order to glare at her, she managed to sound unnervingly cold when she spat:

"If you knew what I think you would have saved yourself the trip! Go back to where you came from!"

"If I do, I hear you might be joining me in the coming weeks." Valbona said, failing to resist the urge to smirk. "Darling Rovena shall be delighted, I daresay, to find you and her mother being deported..."

"You know nothing!"

"...or worse, imprisoned!"

"Nothing, I say!"

"I know more than you can ever dream of, Roza. I always have done. I know people here, I can help..."

"You?" Roza scoffed, nose wrinkling at the mere notion. "You think we need help from you?! We want nothing from the likes of you! You are nothing but a shame on us!"

"And I want to give nothing to the likes of you, Roza. You are nothing but poison that has left my family in ruins. Rovena, however, I shall go to the ends of the Earth for in a heartbeat, if she so desires..."

"She does not! She never will!"

"Nymphadora Lupin has just been reinstated as a Deputy Head of the British Auror Department." Valbona explained, ignoring Roza's venomous denial. "She would see you pardoned on my say so for Rovena's sake, of that I have no doubt. She has always helped me when I have asked and she can be a startlingly strong influence in a courtroom, should she decide to put her mind to it."

"I've read the newspapers! She has better things to do with her time than waste it on you!" Roza sniggered, shaking her head. "If this Ministry cannot get a hold of a wayward Squib, then what are the chances of them managing to prosecute us for such a minor incident..."

"There is nothing minor about Dark Magic, Roza. They will come down on you like a ton of bricks if you do not seek help."

Despite Valbona's warning, Roza merely scoffed:

"You do not know what you are talking about! Wretch! You only want to drag us down with your poisonous accusations..."

"My poisonous accusations?!" Valbona laughed, shaking her head vigorously. "If only, Roza! If only it were me attempting to blacken your name! If only it were me and not the British Ministry you would all be safe here!"

"You have always been poisonous." Roza went on as if she was not listening to anything her estranged step-daughter was saying. "You were poisonous the moment you were born! Unnatural! Abominable! Your mere presence in the house was such a burden to your father! No wonder he died so young!"

Valbona was forced to grit her teeth against a furious outburst.

"Do not...do not talk of my father..."

"And you poisoned my dear son's whole career! He was the joke of the whole Albanian Ministry! They never saw him for the great wizard he was! It was never about Valon! It was always about his monstrosity of a half-sister barging her way into every corner of every investigation! The shame of it! You broke him! You had him ensnared like some pathetic animal just like everyone else until he thought you something special, something worthy of him! And now the family fortunes are in the hands of an unworthy giant's bastard who isn't one of us at all! Valon gave it all to you and yet you're not even worthy to lick the grime off his gravestone!"

Within a blink of the eye, Roza found the tip of a wand being pointed directly between her eyes.

"Tell me where Rovena is before I hex your mouth shut!" Valbona demanded, her grip upon the wand so tight that it was in danger of snapping.

Roza's eyes grew wide as she attempted to shuffle back a step, her back colliding with the shop door.

"How should...how should I know where she is?!" she shot back furiously, voice an octave higher than before. "You talk of her as if she were a child! She's a...a grown woman! Where she is has nothing to do with me!"

Valbona gave a snort of almost-amusement.

"No, I don't suppose it is anything to do with you. If it was, she'd not have been waltzing around on the arm of a Squib! You'd have put a stop to that!" When Roza's eyes widened, Valbona smirked. "You do not know!" she jeered, delighting in the disgust upon Roza's face. "You do not know about her and the Squib! Her and the Squib who's the British Ministry's Most Wanted!"

Roza seemingly went quite weak at the knees and she winced when Valbona's free hand shot forward to grasp hold of the front of her robes, holding her up against the door.

"Tell me where she is."

"You are a liar!" Roza protested feebly, only for Valbona to give her a furious shake.

"Where is she?!"

"A...at...at the house!"

"Where?!"

"Lord's Road, B...ensfield!"

"Bensfield?! Where is Bensfield?!"

"Nor...Norfolk!"

"Where is Norfolk?!"

Before Roza could stutter a response the shop door behind her was pulled open and Valbona hastily leapt back, releasing her.

"What in Merlin's name is going on out here?!" the shop owner, a tall willowy witch with an unfathomably long nose inquired as she peered out into the street, and Roza hastily reached to push the door further open, mumbling:

"Nothing! It's nothing!"

Valbona backed off towards the other side of the street, shoving the wand back in her pocket. She watched Roza stumble inside the shop, the other witch shooting the half-giant a curious look before the door swung shut behind her. As soon as the door had shut Valbona turned and hurried back up the cobbled street until she had stepped out into Diagon Alley, whereupon she hurried up to the first passing shopper she saw, calling:

"Excuse me! Can you tell me where I can find Norfolk, please?!"

Imogen Lupin hated her job.

It wasn't that there was anything in particular that was awful about working at the Leaky Cauldron. The other staff were nice, most of the punters were nice, her working hours were flexible and the atmosphere was generally cheery.

It was more the fact that Imogen felt as if she wasn't supposed to be there, that she was supposed to be somewhere else...

But she didn't know where that somewhere else was. This only made the situation worse, for she knew full well that she wouldn't move on from where she was without a destination in mind.

The Lupins as a family had always had high expectations of Imogen, and she had been aware of this from a young age. It wasn't that her parents were particularly pushy, it was more apparent from the fact that they thought her bright, thought her determined.

Thought her the sort of young witch who would make a mark on the world.

And they were bound to expect such a thing, Imogen supposed, after all the majority of her family had made a mark on the world in one small way or another. They were all bright, all determined. They were not an average wizarding family of shopkeepers, bartenders and Ministry clerks who drifting along through life doing little out of the ordinary.

They were a family of Aurors, revolutionaries and trail blazers who never did anything in half measures.

Even her grandfather, who had barely worked at all during his adult life and had started out with an enormous disadvantage, had managed to leave a mark upon the world.

And when they weren't busy putting the world to rights, even when living their every day lives they strived to better themselves. Whilst Dora and Teddy had passed Auror training and both worked furiously to rise up the ranks in the Auror Department, even Carrie who had spent the majority of the last few years raising her children, had attended University and worked as a specialist in a wizards' library in London. They all had interesting jobs, interesting lives...

And here was Imogen, the young witch mused dully, pulling pints of butterbeer and brewing the occasional potions to scrub the bar clean with.

She probably sounded snobby, Imogen realised as she stood behind the bar that lunchtime, staring blankly at the fireplace opposite. She was probably a blatant snob.

She didn't care.

She felt as if she were a disappointment. She felt as if she had got it all wrong. Her family had probably hoped she would join the Aurors out of school, turn the profession into a true family tradition, or they had probably expected her to get a nice office job in the Ministry or at Gringott's or somewhere else...respectable. Somewhere you could be proud of. Somewhere you could have a real career, get promoted and become a high flyer.

But the only sort of high flying Imogen Lupin had ever been interested in was Quidditch. And look where that had landed her!

And to think she had always wanted to make her parents proud of her, to make the most of what she had been given in the world. One tended to become acutely aware of privilege, Imogen supposed, when one had a Squib as a little sister. It could have been her. It could have been Imogen born a Squib and made to struggle. And Imogen had seen many people struggle over the years; her sister, her grandfather, even her mother in some ways. It seemed an awful shame not to make the most of herself when she was blessed enough to be normal. Or abnormal, depending on how one thought of it...

It wasn't that her family was genuinely disappointed in her...

Except it was.

They never said anything, of course...

Except they did.

Her father had often grumbled under his breath about her dreams of Quidditch stardom and her grandmother had often talked of the great things Imogen might do if she cared to grow up.

And knowing of their disappointment only made Imogen feel more lost than ever.

Nobody knew that Imogen Lupin was lost, or if they did nobody said anything.

Imogen was not inclined to say anything to anyone either. The entire family was much too caught up in Pandora's woes to worry about Imogen's all together insignificant little life crisis.

Insignificant or not, Imogen was finding herself quite consumed by her problems these past few days and she seemed to spend an increasing amount of her time wondering what she was going to do about them. What to do to drag herself out of this hole, what to do to redeem herself, to make herself feel proud, to make herself walk down the street with her head held...

"Imogen!"

Imogen blinked to find Hannah Longbottom, clutching a tray piled high with empty tankards, shooting her a wide eyed look as she cocked her head towards the end of the bar, hissing: "Customer!"

"Oh...right..." Imogen mumbled, hastily throwing down the rag she had been fiddling absentmindedly with and hurrying over to the waiting wizard who was eying her impatiently. "Sorry! I was miles away, what can I get you?"

"You've had your head in the clouds all morning!" Hannah complained a moment later as Imogen went to fetch a double measure of fire whiskey.

"Sorry, Hannah."

"Honestly, Imogen, I know we've only a handful of people to serve, but they do need serving!"

"Yes, of course."

"You'll have to apologise to Mrs. Crouch when you see her, too."

"Why?"

"You short changed her, again!"

"Oh gosh, I didn't, did I?"

"You did!"

"Sorry, Hannah..."

"Whatever it is on your mind, Im, and I'm sure there's plenty on your mind these days, I understand that, but do try and keep focused, won't you?"
"I'll do my very best."

"Good girl! When are you taking your lunch? Because you know Hetty doesn't start her shift until two and there's a Quidditch game ending any time now, we'll probably get busy!"

"Um..." Imogen began, frowning down at the glass she had just snatched up from the bar, only for the door to the pub to be flung wide open, a loud voice calling:
"Imogen!"

At the sight of Valbona Luga making a beeline for the bar, Hannah Longbottom reached to dust her hands upon the front of her dress, expression abruptly stern.

"Ms Luga!" she called as the Albanian witch came to a halt, leaning keenly across the bar. "Housekeeping have been to your room this morning, they say they found the bedlinen scorched!"

"I pay you extra, yes?" Valbona suggested distractedly, waving a dismissive hand as her eyes came to rest keenly upon Imogen. "Imogen! Where I find Norfolk?"

At Hannah's irritated huff from beside her, Imogen felt somewhat reluctant to say:

"Norfolk is north east of here..."

"You take me, yes?"

"Sorry?"

"You can help me, you can take me to Norfolk, yes?"

There was a long pause as Imogen frowned in bemusement, and beside her Hannah muttered something unintelligible under her breath before bustling off to the over end of the bar to see to a customer.

"Well," Imogen said after a moment, taking a small step backwards as Valbona leant even further over the bar towards her. "I um...I suppose I've been to Norfolk once. We went with Uncle Timothy and Auntie Natalie to the Norfolk Broads when I was fifteen..."

"So you can show me?"

"Well perhaps, but you'd do better to ask Nana Dora or Dad, I mean they apparate all over the place for work, they're like a pair of walking atlases..."

"They busy, yes? They are both at work!"

Imogen failed to suppress a snigger.

"Well yes," she said, reaching to put down the glass she was holding, "but so am I! Have you asked my grandad? He probably knows Norfolk quite well..."

"He busy looking after your sister and he has enough worry without helping me, yes? You help me, we go to Norfolk to find my Rovena!"

"Yes, but...but I can't take you, Valbona! I can't just leave work, I'll get in awful trouble!"

"But..." Valbona began, only for her voice to be instantly drowned out as the pub door was once again flung open, this time admitted a huge crowd of witches and wizards draped in Quidditch scarves, their faces painted Harpies-green and gold, all singing loudly and raucously cheering the Harpies' apparent victory over Puddlemere United.

"Oh no..." Imogen groaned, feeling a sudden rush of desire to throw herself to the floor and hide behind the bar.

She recognised each and every member of the Harpies' team as they swarmed into the pub amidst their cheering fans and Imogen felt the colour draining from her face as the pub became packed with people, all making a beeline for the bar.

"I thought Puddlemere were playing the Wasps today!" Imogen complained to Valbona who had turned to eye the Harpies' fans' noisy entrance.

Her chest felt abruptly tight and as she found herself spotting familiar faces from her old workplace, Imogen fervently wished that the floor would open up and swallow her. She could think of noting more humiliating than having to face all of these people, of having to serve them drinks and stand and watch them gossip about her. And that wasn't going to be the worst part of it. The worst part of it, well! That didn't even bear thinking about, she couldn't bear to even imagine what it was going to be like, but she had no doubt that it was about to happen anyway, no matter how horrifying it was. It was going to happen any second now...

It happened.

And as Imogen Lupin watched her ex-boyfriend come sauntering into the Leaky Cauldron with Martina Marshall clinging onto his arm, the young witch felt as if she might very well be overcome with humiliation.

She couldn't face them. Either of them, let alone the pair of them together! She couldn't stand it, couldn't stand there and watch them pawing at one another, looking so disgustingly and shamefully happy, couldn't risk them seeing her here...

And so Imogen did the only thing that came to mind.

She flung down the cloth that she had draped over one shoulder and hurriedly informed Valbona Luga:

"Come on then, let's go to Norfolk!"

Then she half-vaulted over the bar, grabbed the half-giant by the arm and hurried towards the door to the back courtyard before Jamie or Martina could see her, ignoring Hannah's shouts after her.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways!

(Else I shall continue to count the hours and without you, my darling, and they are dreadfully long!)

Dora Lupin let the small square of parchment fall from her hands and onto her chest as she leant further back against a cushion, eyes drifting closed as she allowed herself to chuckle under her breath...

The door to the break room was flung open, and as she stubbornly refused to open her eyes, Dora listened to the brisk footsteps encroaching upon her brief solitude.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing, Tonks?" Head of Aurors Harry Potter inquired as he came to a halt by her feet, staring down at the witch as she lay full length across squashy sofa, her pristine robes rumpled as she lounged back against the pillows that she had collected from around the room, leaving the other chairs bare.
"Sod off," Dora mumbled sleepily, still not opening her eyes, "I'm on my lunch break!"

"Right..." Harry muttered, very nearly sniggering. "It's just I thought you might like a moment's warning..."

"Warning?"

"Yes, it's Jasmine. She's..."

Before Harry could finish, the door behind him was once again flung open, and Dora finally consented to opening her eyes, promptly wishing she hadn't.

"I knew it!" Jasmine Wickes shrieked as she stormed furiously into the room, causing Harry to wince, reaching to rub a weary hand against his forehead. "I knew this wasn't going to work!"

"What doesn't work, Jas?" Dora consented to mumbling, despite knowing full well that she would do better not to speak at all, and she promptly found a finger being thrust in her direction.

"YOU!" Jasmine half-spat furiously. "Working HERE! With ME!"

Dora wanted to confess that she was beginning to suspect the exact same thing, but she thought better of it, instead concentrating on heaving herself up into a sitting position, her sore legs aching in protest as Jasmine demanded to know:

"Who the bloody hell do you think you are?! Sending MY cadets home without even bloody asking me!"

"They're not your cadets, Jasmine," Dora began to point out wearily, "they're the Auror Department's cadets, and..."

"I'm qualifying them! They're under MY supervision!"

"Well you could've fooled me. I was under the impression a bunch of them were under Harry's supervision, off prancing around bloody Canterbury!"

"You can't just...just send cadets home without telling me!"

"Why not? Seems to me that somebody told you, I don't see why that person has to necessarily be me..."

"How am I supposed to organise them if...if half of them don't show up or bloody well go home without telling me?!"

"You could simply carry on without her..."

"Esme didn't need to go home! There's nothing wrong with her!"

"Nothing wrong with her? How can you know that, Jasmine? You didn't see her, and whilst we're on the subject, Harry, what the bloody hell did you say to the poor girl?! She was a mess!"

Before Harry could attempt to defend himself, Jasmine had let out a furious shriek and shouted:

"Do you know what your bloody problem is, Tonks?!"

Dora sighed reaching to fold the note her husband had sent her up so that she could store it back in her pocket.

"No, but I expect you're about to tell me..."

"You're going bloody soft in your old age!"

"Oh come on, Jas. You would've sent her home too if it were you. I tell you what, you should send them all home, there's no point them being here, they aren't learning a thing, this entire department's a mess..."

"You could do better, could you?" Harry said, folding his arms irritably across is chest, and before she could stop herself, Dora had informed him:

"It's highly likely."

A pained silence descended upon the room. Dora very nearly sighed at herself, silently cursing her apparent inability to keep her big mouth shut.

Slowly, Harry stepped forward to snatch up the discarded Auror robes that Dora had left draped across the back of the sofa. Flinging the scarlet garment into the witch's lap he informed her icily:

"Your lunch break's over, Deputy. Get back to work." And with that, he turned on his heel and stalked back out of the room.

Jasmine gave a distinctly smug snigger.

"Nicely done!" she jeered, only for Dora to snap:

"Oh shut up! If you didn't have to come barging in here shouting the odds, I'd not have lost my temper in the first place! What's bloody wrong with you, Jasmine?! I don't deserve to be shouted at and insulted! Esme going home makes bugger all difference to your plans, you just wanted a reason to start a fight with me! The only reason us working together isn't going to work out is because you don't want it to! Well more fool you! I'm here to help you, not make things worse!"

"I think you did just make things worse, Tonks." Jasmine pointed out, gesturing to the door that Harry had just disappeared through, and Dora felt a sudden and violent urge to throw something heavy at her. Instead, she was forced to bite her tongue and say:

"Just...come here, will you? I...I need a hand up..."

Jasmine consented to coming to grasp hold of her by the hand, pulling her up onto her feet, only for her grip upon Dora's hand to tighten, gaze abruptly stern.

"I mean it, Tonks." the red head hissed, grip growing almost painful. "Harry didn't ask you back here to train Auror cadets. They're none of your business. Leave them alone."

"I thought you said you weren't going to pick fights with me." Dora said, only for Jasmine to yank her forwards a little as she said:

"And I thought you said you weren't interested in stepping on my toes. Now, I mean it..."

"Don't, Jas."

"Don't what?!"

"Don't finish that sentence. Don't threaten me."

Jasmine gave a huff.

"Are you going to tell me you'll make me regret it?" she asked as Dora yanked her hand free and turned to snatch up her robes, and as she shrugged into them, the metamorphmagus shook her head.

"No, Jas. I'm your friend. You know spouting threats on a whim is no way to treat me. You know you'll make yourself ashamed. You don't need my help, you'll make yourself regret it." And with that Dora set off stiffly towards the door, muttering: "I had better apologise to Harry..."

She found Harry in his office, bent over his desk with his face buried in his hands.
Dora closed the door carefully behind her and shuffled forward to stand before the desk, lips pursed guiltily before she confessed:

"I...I'm sorry, Harry. I don't know what...I don't know what all of that was about, I don't know what came over me..."

Harry's fingers reached to tug wearily at his hair for a moment before he let his hands fall to the desk so that he could look up at her.

"Jasmine came over you," he said with a heavy sigh. "Happens to the best of us, I'm afraid."

Dora managed a half-hearted chuckle.

"Yes," she agreed, shifting a foot uneasily. "I'm sure that's true. But I was very rude to you...I should've kept my mouth shut..."

"Shall we call ourselves even?" Harry suggested, smiling weakly. "I've enough of a battle on my hands with Jasmine already. It would help me a great deal if you and I could call an instant truce."

Dora offered him an equally weak smile.

"Well," she said, "if it makes our truce easier, I didn't mean what I said. About the department being a mess..."

"Yes you did." Harry interrupted, leaning back in his chair, his posture slumped. "And you're right, it's...oh Tonks, it's a bloody awful mess! Jasmine's...she's wrecking everything, I can't seem to go half an hour without being interrupted by her throwing a tantrum over one thing or another or...or messing something up! I can't seem to get anything done! Everything's so inefficient, everybody's walking on eggshells around her! One minute she's fine, the next she's...she's freaking out over something utterly insignificant like a...like a missing Auror cadet! I don't know what to do! It's all very well us all trying to shield her and keep her in work, but this is getting completely ridiculous!"

"She's just told me to keep clear of the Auror cadets."

"Why? Somebody ought to be doing something with them!"

"She says that's not what you brought me back for."

"Well I'll tell you what! I didn't keep her here so she could do the exact opposite!" Harry rose abruptly from his chair, the sudden movement making Dora wince. "That's it," he declared, pushing back his chair and stepping out from behind his desk. "I've made up my mind, Tonks. We can't do this anymore..."

"What..."

"Come on, we're going to see Kingsley."

"Why? Harry, don't..."

"I just can't handle her any more. She's turning my entire department upside down."

"You're not going to sack her, are you? Harry...!"

"I didn't want it to come to this, Tonks, I really didn't..."

As Harry strode across the office towards the door, Dora struggled to hurry after him.

"Maybe Jasmine had a point! Maybe...maybe I shouldn't have sent the girl home! I mean it was a bit...she would've been alright after while..."

"Don't stick up for Jasmine now, Tonks." Harry muttered as he pushed the door open and the two of them entered the office. "Whether you were right or wrong is irrelevant, it was a minor incident and Jasmine blew it all out of proportion! Just like she does everything else!"

"But Harry..."

"I know how you feel, Tonks, I really do. I feel the same...I did feel the same! But we can't get overcome with sentimentality or our personal feelings..."

"I can't cope without her, Harry. I can't do all of this on my own!"

"You'll be fine."

"No I won't!"

"We'll sort it all out together. It'll be like old times..."

"It won't be anything like old times!" Dora found herself shouting, causing the entire office to pause in their various activities to turn to stare at the pair's progress across the room. "It's never going to be the same as it used to be! Especially not if you do this!"

Harry ignored her, still striding determinedly towards the door and as she caught sight of Jasmine out of the corner of her eye, clutching a pile of files to her chest, Dora came to a halt, heart beginning to race in panic, ignoring the countless staring eyes as she announced:

"If you sack Jasmine, Harry, I'm going to walk out of that door and not come back!"

Harry stopped dead in his tracks.

Jasmine dropped the pile of files to the floor, papers spilling in a heap as she lurched sideways to grasp hold of a desk to steady herself, and immediately whispers and mutterings began to spread throughout the room like wildfire.

Harry slowly turned round to stare at Dora in astonishment.

For the umpteenth time that day, Dora wished she had kept her mouth shut, or at least waited until they were out of earshot of the other Aurors before causing a scene. Eyes around the room darted from Harry to Dora, then to Jasmine, then back to Harry again.

Abandoning the files upon the floor, Jasmine immediately fled towards her office, and no sooner had Harry caught sight of her, he began to stride after her.

"You're a piece of work, aren't you?!" he snapped under his breath to Dora as he brushed past her, and Dora felt herself reddening as she offered the office at large a sweeping scowl.

"What're you all staring at?!" she snapped furiously as Jasmine disappeared into her office, slamming the door behind her, only for Harry to push it open again. "Haven't you got work to do?!"

The other Aurors made little effort to halt their staring, a few of them shuffled the papers on their desks half-heartedly and Xander Pikket coughed awkwardly into his sleeve.

"What am I doing here?" Dora muttered to herself as she hurried after Harry as quickly as her weakened legs would allow her, feeling quite wretched.

She hadn't meant to shout so loudly, hadn't meant to say something so humiliating, hadn't meant to cause a scene. She couldn't bear to think of what Jasmine would have to say to her now, she'd probably never forgive her for causing such terrible embarrassment.

But she hadn't been able to help it. She had panicked, she hadn't known what else to do. Because no matter how much Jasmine would hate her for it, she was certain that being out of work would do Jasmine no favours at all. In fact Dora could not think of anything worse...

She entered the office to find Jasmine stood before the fireplace, hands grasping the mantlepiece as she slumped forward, gaze fixed upon her boots, her breathing gasping and audible even from across the room.

Harry, stood in the middle of the room, arms folded across his chest, glanced over his shoulder to offer Dora a glare.

"Get out." he told her furiously. "It's got nothing to do with you, you've done enough damage already!"

"It's got everything to do with me." Dora insisted, crossing the room to plant herself at Jasmine's side. "I need to know if...if I need to clear my desk out or not!"

Harry was forced to bite his tongue against retorting so that he could turn his attention back to Jasmine.

"Come on, Jas." he suggested calmly. "Let's have a sit down and...and talk about it..."

"What's there to talk about?!" Jasmine choked, positively trembling in despair. "You want to...to sack me!"

"I'm not in the habit of sacking people without reasonable discussion, you know that." Harry tried to reason, expression utterly ashen at her misery as she complained:

"You've already made up your...your mind!"

"Perhaps, but...but..." Harry trailed off, reaching to rake a hand through his already disarrayed hair. After a pause he fixed the witch with a distinctly pleading look as he said: "Please, Jas. Please sit down, please let me at least attempt to explain myself."

"You think I'm a...a burden! You think I'm useless!"

"No..."

"Liar!"

At Jasmine's voice rising to a shrill shout, Dora reached to lay a hand upon her arm.

"Come on, sit down." the older witch murmured soothingly, giving Jasmine a nudge towards a chair.

Tears streaming in silent streaks down her face, Jasmine stumbled over to drop down into a chair, only to bend forward to bury her face in her hands.

"Listen, Jasmine," Harry said, sounding pained to have to attempt to explain himself for even a second. "I...we...we've worked together here for a...a very long time now! And it used to be a...a joy every day coming into work, seeing you and...and Tonks and Ron...Isaac, Robert and the others! I used to...to really love my job, I really did. And you all made it so much easier for me! You in particular, I knew if I had something that needed doing and I gave it to you it'd get done! I'd not have to worry for even a second! And...and if I sent you out to arrest somebody I knew you'd bring them back, I knew I could rely on you! Even when...when Kraft had me locked up down in the Department of Mysteries and...and even when he had Tonks flung in Azkaban and Ron was gone away with the Order...even when he half tore my department apart I knew you'd all stick together! I knew you'd keep everybody focused and I knew you'd be loyal to Tonks and I until the end!"

"Are you c..calling me d...disloyal now?!" Jasmine choked, sounding utterly mortified at the notion, and as Dora reached to lay a comforting hand upon her shoulder, Harry shook his head vigorously.

"No, Jas! No! But don't you see?! You don't see everything in black and white like you used to! Everything's blurry and confused! You don't know if you're coming or going! One minute Tonks is your saviour, the next you're trying to stitch her up and make her look bad! One minute you're going to the ends of the Earth to get something done because I asked you...the next you're flinging paperwork in my face and telling me to get stuffed! One minute we're your best friends, the next minute you think we're all plotting against you! And I've been clinging onto you by the skin of my teeth! I don't want you gone! None of us do! We know how...how important working is for you! Tonks is...is still stood there fighting your corner! But we can't do it anymore, Jas! I can't cope with...with every single thing being such a huge drama! How do you expect me to run this office with you being so...so...! What kind of Deputy are you when you're in such a state all the time?! I wanted it to all work out! I wanted you to...to pull yourself together, wanted to keep you by my side because I like working with you! But I can't! Not like this! I'm sorry!"

As Jasmine merely dissolved into further tears, Dora awkwardly came to perch upon the arm of her chair, sliding an arm around the witch who promptly slumped sideways, her face buried in the metamorphmagus' side.

"And...and you're not walking out on me!" Harry insisted, thrusting a finger forward to point at Dora, trying his best to sound firm despite the despair in his voice. "I...I'm not having it! It's...it's unacceptable!"

"I thought you said I could go home whenever I wanted." Dora pointed out, sounding disinterested as she reached to smooth Jasmine's hair soothingly.

"Don't twist my words, Tonks!"

Dora's gaze upon him darkened.

"That sign on your door might say you're the boss here, Harry," she said, grip upon Jasmine tightening. "You might outrank me on parchment. But make no mistake! I don't need to be here! I am not relying on the salary you're paying to feed my family or keep a roof over our heads! I'm not trying to build a reputation, I've already got one! And if I want to make a stand here, I will do! You might be my boss! But you are not the boss of me!"

Jasmine looked up from her snivelling to gage Harry's response to this firm dressing down, and Dora wondered if she had yet again stepped over a line.

"You're making presumptions about me, Harry." she pointed out, trying to sound a little less hostile. "Just like you did at St. Mungo's!"

At her mention of St. Mungo's, Harry's expression grew somewhat embarrassed.

"All I'm asking," Dora told him, gesturing to the seat opposite which he consented to taking, "is that we try to...try to come up with a different solution. Some way where we can...can keep Jas in work but...but calm everything down. How you do that is up to you, I don't care how you do it. I just want you to try. Is that really so difficult?"

There was a silence then that lasted an age. Harry stared at the two witches opposite him in consideration.

Dora took the opportunity to dig around in her pockets, extracting a handkerchief to press into Jasmine's hands, but Jasmine was too busy staring at Harry to really notice.

Harry huffed, sighed, frowned and fidgeted until he sat a little straighter in his seat, mind apparently made up.

"I suggest," he said slowly, nodding a little to himself to be entirely sure, "that the three of us here make a pact."

"Go on." Dora said as Jasmine too sat up a little, and Harry clasped his hands together purposefully in his lap.

"For my part," he explained, looking from one witch to the other, "I will promise not to sack Jasmine. And I will do my best to think before I speak and stop presuming you owe me anything, Tonks. In return, Tonks, you will consent to remaining here as my Deputy, and you will at least attempt to afford me the same respect that I have for you. And finally, Jasmine..." he paused to draw in a deep, almost nervous breath before telling the witch: "You will give up your Deputy's badge and accept a demotion, without a fuss, and let Tonks be my sole Deputy until this mess is over with. That way your responsibilities will be smaller, the pressure on you far less, and you can remain in work and...and hopefully together we can work together as we used to and sort this department out. What...what d'you say?"

Dora turned to eye Jasmine warily as the other witch's face contorted at the notion.

"For the love of Merlin, Jasmine," the metamorphmagus whispered, grip upon her friend tightening, "This is the only chance you've got left. Say yes!"

Yanking the sleeves of her robes down over her hands so that she could clutch the material in her fists, Jasmine gave another sniff, before managing a feeble nod.

"Y...yes." she managed to utter, gaze upon Harry watery. "Yes, alright. Alright then..."

"I'm in." Dora agreed quietly, as Harry let out a sigh of relief, and the Head of Aurors told her:

"Right, then I'll...I'll speak to Kingsley and...and I'll call a staff meeting, so everybody knows what's happened."

At the prospect of such a meeting, Jasmine sunk lower in her chair and Dora was forced to attempt to hold her upright.

"With all due respect," Dora informed Harry as Jasmine buried her face in the handkerchief. "Jasmine and I won't be attending your staff meeting."

"No...I don't expect you will."

"In fact Jasmine will be taking the afternoon off work."

"Right."

"And I will be out of the office myself in order to escort her home."

"Right...fine, good, alright...well give Isaac my best, won't you?"

At mention of Isaac, Jasmine promptly let out a despondent whimper, her eyes screwed tightly shut.

"How...how can I go home?" she asked miserably as Harry retreated solemnly back out of the door. "How can I...I can't! I can't face Isaac after all of this! I can't tell him I've...I've been DEMOTED?!" Spitting out the final word as if it were the dirtiest and most shameful thing she had ever heard, Jasmine reached to grasp fistfuls of hair in agitation, and Dora very nearly shuddered at the notion herself. Despite her own horror at such a thing befalling her herself, the Deputy Head of Aurors insisted:

"Isaac doesn't give a toss what rank you are or what job you're doing, Jas. He just wants you working, just like the rest of us do..."

"It's...it's shameful!"

"Personal strife isn't shameful, Jasmine."

"I'm a...a failure!"

"You haven't failed! You said yes! You're still here, you're still standing!"

"I failed! I pushed Harry too far! If...if you weren't threatening to jump ship he'd...he'd have sacked me! I'm only here because of...because of you! I...Merlin!" Eyes widening to the size of snitches, Jasmine turned to stare up at Dora, exclaiming: "I bloody hate you!" And with that she flung her arms around Dora, causing the other witch to narrowly avoid falling off her perch.

Dora opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't quite decide what, until Jasmine sucked in a deep breath and whispered:

"Thank you. I...I don't know if I...if I even want to be here anymore! I don't know if I even want to be...to be saved by you! I think I'd rather fall in the mud and stay there than have you drag me back up again! Because I'll only have to bend back down there to kiss your bloody boots anyway!"

Despite her stiff limbs, Dora felt compelled to rise to her feet, going to stand before the fireplace, gazing into the empty grate.

"I don't know what to say to you, Jas." she confessed wearily, reaching to tug at the hair at the nape of her neck. "I don't know when it started, this...this problem you've got with...with me. This...well, this..."

"Isaac says it's an inferiority complex." Jasmine confessed in a whisper, clearly abashed.

"Isaac can call it whatever he likes," Dora mumbled, quite embarrassed by the notion herself. "I don't care to name it. Whatever it is, it doesn't suit you. Or me! There's no reason to...to elevate me up somewhere high or drag yourself down low. Whatever it is going on in...in that crackpot brilliant mind of yours needs to...to stop! We've both got our strengths and weaknesses, Jas. We're both equally human, don't make either one of us out to be something we're not."

"You're not human, Tonks." Jasmine complained dejectedly. "You've never been human from where I'm standing! You're too...too bloody good! Too strong, too sharp, too brilliant! You're infallible! You're the best Auror this department's seen since Moody was here! You waltz back in here like you own the place, you don't cave under the ridiculous expectations everybody placed on you the second you stepped through the door! Meanwhile you rushed into marriage at a young age to a bloody werewolf in the middle of a war, sealed the deal within a matter of bloody days by falling pregnant...and here you are all these years later, despite the odds, still with a rock solid, happy marriage, your entire family adores you and you get on with every single one of them! Even Valbona Luga, who bloody well hated your guts once upon a time, thinks the sun shines out of your rear end! You survived the Order, the War, and this place with barely a ruffled feather! Not even...not even Remus damn near dying made you crumble! You love your husband like nothing else, don't you?! And yet somebody tells you he's going to...to die and it's business as bloody usual!"

"Is this what it's all about?" Dora asked, turning round to look at Jasmine whose voice had grown suddenly louder. "It's about Remus and Isaac, isn't it? Kingsley mentioned it, but..." she trailed off, hastily turning back to stare at the fireplace again.

It was ridiculous, the werewolf's wife thought miserably. Every single bit of it was completely ridiculous.

Especially any claim that her marriage had always been rock solid! The notion very nearly made Dora laugh. Things hadn't always been the secure and mundane way they were now, all these years down the line. There had been plenty of times over the years when she could have admitted that her marriage just then had been anything but a happy one.

For starters, there were three of them in this relationship, and the furry one with the tail that appeared at every full moon clearly had issues with commitment, in that it was entirely committed to ruining Remus and Dora's marriage.

Sometimes the third party wasn't furry or tailed at all. Sometimes it was just a grim and lifeless version of her husband who kidnapped normal, cheerful Remus, locked him away and threw away the key, leaving Dora with no idea as to when she might see him again. The consequences could be devastating. The warning signs of Remus' frequent plummets into the depths of depression had been glaringly obvious. First, he would grow quiet, then he would start sighing frequently for no apparent reason, then she would notice a gap beginning to emerge between them, he would spend time alone frequently and when they were together she would find herself missing his contact. He'd stop holding her hand, stop holding her, stop kissing her, stop touching, smiling, looking...

And, Dora recalled when she looked back at their earlier years before Teddy had grown, before she knew it she had found herself seemingly bathed in poison, entirely untouchable and she would realise they hadn't kissed, let alone had sex in weeks, months...

Dora would bet her entire vault that such a thing had never happened to Jasmine and Isaac, they'd been at it like rabbits for as long as she could remember, in fact they'd probably still be at it these days given half the chance!

It hadn't been a problem at first, as depressing as their complete lack of intimacy was to her, but then, Dora recalled, after some years of the occasional depressed spell, as a family the Lupins had hit rock bottom and for an agonisingly grim week Dora had, in all honesty, concluded that Remus' depression was there to stay for good, there would be no light on the horizon and their marriage, as a consequence, was dead.

Forced to move house in a hurry into a tiny, cramped cottage with damp, decaying walls, draft-ridden windows and a roof leaking in multiple places, after their previous neighbours had potentially become aware of Remus' lycanthropy, nothing much positive could be said about the days back then. With one bed between the three of them, Remus had spent six nights per week sleeping upon the lumpy sofa in the tiny sitting room, leaving Dora to sleep in the bedroom with Teddy. The werewolf's mood had darkened almost as soon as they had stepped through the front door. He observed on an almost daily basis that the cottage was in such squalid condition that it was no healthy home for a child at all, no matter how quickly he worked to fix the leaks and scrub mouldy patches from the walls. All hopes of moving elsewhere had been hinged on the family's meagre savings, and Dora took to working double shifts every week in an attempt to fill their bank vault. Remus, meanwhile, sat at home with Teddy, slowly working away at the cottage and growing ever more despondent and guilty over the whole sorry situation. It was, to Remus' mind, all his fault. He had forced them into this dank and miserable hovel and he had no means to get them out of it, leaving all the work down to his wife. Every day their young son spent in these grimy surroundings made the werewolf loathe himself even more.

Dora had remained stubbornly cheerful for many months, refusing to let her exhausting work schedule or her husband's engrained pessimism to get her down. But as Remus had begun to withdraw ever more from both his wife and the rest of the world, Dora had found herself struggling to find anything to cling on to.

One evening per week in particular was always worse than the others, which Dora found frustrating given the purpose of that day was to have precisely the opposite effect. Sending Teddy off to sleep at his grandmother's for the night so that Remus might get a decent night's sleep in a proper bed, this evening constituted the only real length of time that Remus and Dora had alone together. Every week without fail, Dora looked forward to the evening in question, determined that it would in fact be the highlight of her week. She would spend the hours at work leading up to the night in question thinking of what they might spend their night of freedom doing, what they might have for dinner, whether they might stay up half the night just talking or whether they might just fall asleep within a few hours, curled up snugly in bed together.

It never went the way Dora planned, or even hoped.

They ate dinner in an awkward silence, as if suddenly finding themselves alone together was in someway embarrassing, not a situation they were accustomed to. It was rather as if they didn't know one another terribly well at all, and afterwards Remus would retreat to a corner with a book or a newspaper or perhaps set about one maintenance task or another. Meanwhile Dora would sit and watch him, attempting to plan her next move.

When she failed to come up with any inspired plans to inject some semblance of cheer or even dull conversation into the evening, Remus would finally speak a handful of words to her to inform her that he thought it time he went to bed.

He never suggested they go to bed together, though they inevitably did, and as she slipped between the sheets beside him with no doubt mere minutes before he drifted off to sleep and any hopes for the evening were entirely crushed, Dora would find herself overcome with a panicked desperation.

She would reach amongst the covers to take hold of his hand, only for it to be pulled free so that he could rearrange the blankets. She would shuffle over onto his side of the bed, taking no care to be subtle, and cling to him, wincing when his entire posture stiffened at the gesture. Not so cruel as to simply push her off of him, he would lie stock still for some agonising minutes until she dared attempt to kiss him, at which point he would invariably manage to bury her face in his shoulder, muttering goodnight into her hair, and before she knew it he had rolled over and fallen asleep with his back to her.

And Dora would cry. Sometimes for minutes, sometimes for what felt like hours, her face buried in her pillow.

Every once in a while the tears would come before Remus had fallen asleep. But he never once dared to turn around and face her. When Dora finally noticed that he was indeed awake one evening, she felt so utterly stung at the realisation that she found herself confessing to herself: I can't do it.

I can't do this anymore.

I simply can't.

She had known it was a new low the following week when she had accompanied Teddy to her mother's house and had chosen to stay there for the night rather than go home and face the realities of her marriage. Spending the night entirely alone had indeed been sweet relief, and yet this in itself made Dora feel lower than ever. In fact she felt guilty, ashamed to have seemingly given up all hope.

Despite her guilt she had gone to her mother's again the next week, only for Andromeda to turn her away at the front door. Ushering Teddy inside, Andromeda had eyed her daughter critically for a long moment before informing her:

"I don't care what, why or how, Nymphadora. Whatever it is, you can't hide from it here! So go on! Go home, stand tall and do something about it!"

And so Dora had gone to the Leaky Cauldron and attempted to drown herself in firewhiskey.

Looking back on the night in question bemused Dora even now. She had never thought herself one to turn to alcohol in times of strife, owing to her grim observations of Sirius during the War, locked up at Grimmauld Place and seemingly swigging endlessly from bottle after bottle with little hope of finding any happiness.

But despair and hopelessness had driven Dora to sit in a dark corner of the bar, downing more glasses than she cared to remember, and come throwing out time she had been frustrated, though not surprised, that the future wasn't looking any brighter.

It was just awful. Everything was awful. It was hopeless, she felt lost, Remus was lost, their marriage was lost, they were just...lost...

And if something didn't change soon she was going to lose her mind. She might have already lost it, in fact. Because she was so overcome with a desperate need to be looked at, smiled at, touched, loved, that the rest of reality seemed somewhat distant.

She was getting tired of seemingly throwing herself at him every week in the vain hope he might suddenly warm to her, might have the life jolted back into him, might go as far as to actually want her...

Was she really that bloody undesirable that he couldn't stand the sight of her? Was a kiss or even a simple smile really too much to ask?! Was there really something so wrong with her these days that her own husband had absolutely no desire for her at all?

Something had began to bubble up inside of her that night when she stumbled bleakly out of the pub before wandering aimlessly down the deserted cobbled street. Something painful, something hopeless, something miserable, something drenched in confusion and self deprecation, something that led her to be so muddled when she came to apparate herself home that she managed to add a minor splinching to her woes.

The sudden pain in the fingers of her left hand as she appeared with a noisy pop in the field beside the cottage had made Dora drop to her knees, bloodied hand clutched to her chest in momentary panic before she chanced a watery-eyed glance down at the damage. She had counted all five fingers still present if not entirely correct, before stumbling back to her feet and heading for the front door.

She could still recall the calming influence of icy water spraying over her injured hand in the sink some minutes later, washing away both blood and hysteria. She managed the impressively sober observation that most of her fingers were broken or perhaps fractured and that she was in no mental state to entertain the notion of fixing them herself. Focused on finding a bandage from the cupboard and wrapping it tightly around her hand, indifferent to the pain it caused her, Dora had thought her bout of madness quite done with for the night, until she crept non-too quietly into the bedroom to look upon Remus fast asleep in bed.

She realised then that the confusion and panic and bubbling emotions were anything but gone. And as she had climbed into bed beside the sleeping werewolf, still fully clothed, Dora had felt everything bubble over until she felt compelled to do or say something.

Anything!

And so Dora had rolled onto her side to stare furiously at the back of Remus' head before informing her sleeping husband in a shrill whisper:

"I swear to Merlin, if...if you don't make love to me by the time our son comes home from my mum's house tomorrow morning, I'm going to...I'm going to bloody divorce you!"

There was a long pause in which Dora prepared to let out a sigh of relief to get the frustration at least slightly off her chest, only for her heart to stop dead when Remus stopped pretending to be asleep in order to utter:

"What did you just say?!"

Dora had felt her entire face grow hot in embarrassment. She waited for the mattress to open up and swallow her, but when this failed to happen (it always did, she later supposed irritably), she was forced to mumble:

"Um...I um...I said..."

"Yes?"

"I just said...um..."

"You just said what?"

Dora had screwed her eyes tight shut before daring to repeat herself.

"I said: I swear to Merlin, if you don't make love to me by the time our son comes home form my mum's house tomorrow morning I'm...I'm going to...to divorce you!"

There was another dreadful pause before Remus said:

"I see."

Dora had flinched, desperately attempting to think of what she ought to say next, how exactly to explain, how in Merlin's name such a sentence had even come to be blurted out of her mouth...

Then Remus had sighed, apparently having given the situation some consideration, then he had reached a blind arm backwards to slide carefully underneath her and Dora had been well and truly lost for words when the werewolf had suggested:

"Well I suppose you had better come here, then..."

It made Dora laugh now, thinking of that night, of how they had finally started to turn things around. But it had never been, nor would it ever be truly funny. It had felt that night as if everything would change in an instant, she had certainly felt as if it had, since he left her with not a single hint of a cause to divorce him the next day, and once that fact was set in stone they had spent several hours simply lying there, staring at one another. He'd smiled at her for the first time in months, his hands absentmindedly stroking her hair, her face, her neck...

But there had been something undoubtably shy and fragile about the pair of them, then. He had been uncharacteristically upset by her evening's escapades upon discovering her bandaged fingers, cross rather than simply disapproving that she had gotten herself so inebriated, and Dora had failed to stand up for herself because she had been certain that he was angry with himself rather than anyone else. They might have joked about it in happier times, but it would take him some weeks to entirely regain his sense of humour, and even whilst things were steadily mended they had bad days when she thought the world might come crashing down all over again. She had spent the rest of their marriage, punctuated by Remus' various highs and lows, fearing that one day something might plunge them into the same hole all over again and that they might not recover.

It was only since Remus' health scare the year before Pandora's birth that Dora had finally truly stopped worrying.

Which was why Jasmine's claims seemed downright delusional.

"Why do you think people get married, Jas?" the Deputy Head of Aurors asked, frowning into the fireplace.

"Because they're in love, I suppose." Jasmine mumbled, apparently disinterested.

"Then why aren't you married?" Dora asked, digging a booted toe into the rug before the fire.

Jasmine gave a snort.

"I don't need a ring on my finger to prove I love my partner."

"And you think I do?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because your husband's an idiot and you have to spell it out to him."

There was a sizeable pause before Dora turned to look round at her friend incredulously, before the pair of them both sniggered, only for Dora to sober and ask:

"And what if that's true? What if I really do need a ring on my finger? What if I told you sometimes when I was young I needed a gesture like that as a reminder to hold my relationship together?"

"Then your relationship would be pathetic." Jasmine informed her frankly, crossing her arms firmly across her chest.

Dora grinned widely.

"My relationship is pathetic, Jasmine." she insisted, reaching to adjust her robes and straightening up a little. "And if you've never had a problem like that then I'm telling you now, you are stronger than me by far."

Jasmine managed a weak smile as Dora gestured to the office door.

"Come on," she said, smiling encouragingly. "Let's get out of here before Harry starts his meeting."

Pandora Lupin dared another small step forward, the leaves crunching under her feet as she stared at the bedraggled man as he slumped back against a tree trunk.

"Come closer," Jeff called groggily, eyes flickering closed for a moment, his breaths short and gasping, and Pandora stopped edging reluctantly towards him. Now that his gaze was no longer upon her, she felt the sudden urge to make a run for home. He seemed badly injured. The chances of him catching her were...

"Please, Pan...please come closer..."

Pandora gritted her teeth and looked down at her shoes.

"What do you want?!" she demanded, trying to chase the panic from her voice, and to see him lying there looking so pathetic made her bolder. "You won't get any help from me!"

Jeff's eyes snapped open and though she was not looking at him, Pandora could feel his dark eyes upon her again.

"I think I will, Sweetheart." he told her quietly. "I think you're...you're too good, Pan. You're too good to leave me here to...to bleed to death!"

"You'd have left my Nana to bleed to death!" Pandora accused furiously, so full of anger that she managed to look up at him again, eyes positively blazing. "You'd not have cared to have killed her!"

"I never wanted to hurt your grandmother, Pan. I...if I'd known she was there...!"

"That's rubbish!"

"I like your grandmother! I admire her, I always have done! I've read the Prophet every morning and evening to hear news of her, I can't tell you what a relief it was to read she was out of hospital..."

"Did you read the part where she swore to come down on you like a ton of bricks?" Pandora asked, folding her arms across her chest, and Jeff gave a chuckle.

"Of course I did." he told her, smiling faintly. "She made me feel wretched, that's for sure! Because it confirmed what I've always suspected, Pandora. About your family, I mean."

"What about them?" Pandora asked, finding herself taking the smallest of steps backwards, and Jeff had leant forward a little towards her before telling her:

"They're just like me."

"They're nothing like you!" Pandora shouted, utterly appalled at such an accusation. "How dare you! They're not like you at all! They're good people!"

"You put good people in bad situations, Pandora, and we all turn bad." Jeff insisted, struggling to sit upright again. "Take your father, for example. He's a decent man, there's no doubt! But here I am in danger of bleeding to death out in the middle of nowhere, all because this morning when attempting to apprehend me he chose to wound me rather than hit me with a stunning spell! Where's the good in that?! And who taught him tactics like that, I wonder?! His mother, I suppose! She wants me dead! Crippled the same as her! And that makes her no better than I am, Pan! A truly good person wouldn't threaten me like she has! All she'll do is feed the conflict and we'll never have peace!"

"You don't want peace!" Pandora cried, flinging her hands up in frustration. "You want...want suffering and...and pain and FEAR! Well let me tell you something, Jeff Fawley! WE ARE NOT AFRAID OF YOU! You and your stupid mind games! You think you can frighten us?! This society that you are trying to intimidate fought Lord Voldemort and won! It wasn't that long ago! People haven't forgotten, the older generations lived through that War! There were Death Eaters and...and Snatchers prowling the streets and they were more frightening than you by far! You think a few snapped wands is going to send them running for the hills?! Try a bloody Dark Mark hanging over Diagon Alley! You blew up a couple of shops?! What about burning a school half to the ground and murdering half the children you find inside of it?! How about that?!"

There was a long pause before Jeff sighed heavily, reaching to push the messy hair from his eyes.

"I'm not attempting to...to take over the world, Pan!" he complained miserably. "I just...I just want people to listen to me! And isn't that what we all want, really? Don't you just wish...don't you wish sometimes somebody would just listen? I mean really listen?!"

And despite her fury, Pandora supposed that he was right.

Everybody always seemed to assume they understood her feelings, they all thought they knew what it was like, being Pandora. They didn't ever seem to feel the need to listen to her, to find out whether or not their assumptions were correct...

It was infuriating. Frustrating. That's nice, love. Whatever you say, Sweetheart. I know, Pan. Oh, I can just imagine!

Sometimes it made Pandora want to scream.

It was probably no surprise that some people resorted to such extremes just to be heard.

She felt very nearly sorry for Jeff, just then. And looking at him lying there, looking so downtrodden and helpless, she felt almost as if she ought to help him...

"I'm not asking for much, Pan." Jeff said, face contorting in pain as he shifted where he sat. "I just...I just need to...to bandage this wound, that's all! I can't do it on my own..."

Pandora watched as he reached to pull a wad of bandages out of his pocket, before he held them out to her imploringly.

"Please, Sweetheart," he wheezed, pausing to splutter between words. "Please...I didn't want to hurt your Nana, I swear! I wouldn't do that on purpose! You're precious to me, Pan! I don't want you to hate me! I just...I just...n...nobody listens! I just want people to listen! Please!"

And despite herself, Pandora felt something constricting in her chest...

She shuffled forward until she could drop down beside him, snatching the bandages from his hand.

"You're going to get caught, you know." she said as she set about wrapping the linen tightly around the wound, causing him to let out a groan of pain. "It's only a matter of time..."

"Are you going to tell them I'm here?" Jeff wondered through gritted teeth, and Pandora gave a huff.

"Are you going to try and stop me?"

"Of course not. I'd never lay a finger on you, Pandora. You know that..."

"You lay your hands on Rovena though, don't you? I saw you, in Diagon Alley after the parade..."

Pandora flinched to feel his hand come to press against her cheek, causing her to pause in her task.

"Pandora Lupin," Jeff wheezed, gaze upon her suddenly pinning her to the spot. "I don't love Rovena. I love you. I know you don't believe it, but it's the truth. I love you and I would never, ever hurt you..."

"You think it doesn't already hurt me? All these horrible things you're doing..." Pandora whispered, tears beginning to blur her vision, his hand upon her cheek making her abruptly tearful.

"I thought you'd understand, Pan." Jeff told her, thumb scuffing her cheek sadly. "I didn't mean to hurt you..."

And as tears made the world swim, Pandora felt her anger swimming too, distorted by her sudden misery to stare at his handsome, ragged face, memories of before the explosion making her crumble.

"You were perfect." she complained, finding herself leaning against his hand, eyes screwed shut. "You were perfect, Jeff and...and you were going to...to be mine..."

"I am yours, Pan..."

"N...no you're not! You're not mine! B...because my Jeff wouldn't be...be doing any of this! My Jeff was a...a kind and decent man who...who made me feel proud of myself! Well I'm not proud now! I'm a...ashamed! You've ruined everything!" And with that she yanked the bandage tight, making him groan in protest, rising to her feet and taking a step away from him. "Well you're time's almost up!" she informed him, reaching to swipe a hand across her eyes. "M...my grandad and my mum will...will wonder where I am! They're going to...to find you and...and you won't get far running away with an injury like that!"

Jeff's expression grew distinctly pained.

"Don't let them come looking for me, Pan." he muttered, reaching to fumble around in the bag that lay upon the woodland floor beside him.

"My grandad'll summon the Aurors here in the blink of an eye!" Pandora insisted triumphantly, turning her back on him to look around, gathering her bearings. "They'll have you in Azkaban by the end of the day!"

Something behind her clicked.

Pandora froze.

"Your grandfather was one heck of a dueller in his day, I hear." Jeff recalled soberly. "I bet he could give most people a run for their money even now. I used to read all the old articles about the Order from back dated newspapers. They say he was one of the best, they say he could cast such powerful magic! In the blink of an eye! But they never mentioned how good he was a dodging bullets."

Pandora turned slowly around to look at him, eyes widening to see a pistol clutched tightly in one hand, a pile of shimmery material in his lap...

"They also never mentioned how good he was at seeing through invisibility cloaks." Jeff went on, patting the cloak in his lap rather fondly. "What d'you think?"

Pandora felt a lump form in her throat.

"I don't think any of the Aurors would do that well either." Jeff confessed, sounding almost regretful.

"Wh...where did you g...get those?!" Pandora managed to squeak, utterly mortified, but Jeff merely insisted:

"Don't send them after me, Pan. Please."

"They'll out number you! You can't shoot everyone!"

"I can shoot some of them, if they make me. I could've shot your father this morning, if I'd wanted to...I didn't want to. But I might do this time, if I don't have a choice..."

"No!"

"Then don't make me do it, Pan. It's up to you..."

"I can't not tell them where you are...I can't..."

"Then it'll be your fault, Pan. It'll be your fault if anyone gets hurt."

"I'm not the one sitting there with a...with a GUN in my hand! D...don't you...don't you try and...and blame me!" Pandora cried, and before he could utter another word she had reached to clamp her hands over her ears, before turning to flee back towards the cottage.

She couldn't think about it. She simply couldn't.

She had to raise the alarm, she had to let the Aurors know where he was, she couldn't keep quiet, she just couldn't, he needed to be caught!

But he had a gun. A gun, for Merlin's sake! What did Aurors know about fighting people with guns?! What if somebody got hurt?! What if somebody died?!

But if he got away...what then? What next?!

What if it was her father? Or her Nana again? What if he shot them? What then?!

Pandora crashed through the trees, through bushes, her clothes snagging on low branches and her feet stumbling on uneven ground as she ran full pelt back towards the cottage, heartbeat hammering furiously in her ears...

"How d'you suppose that went, then?" Carrie Lupin wondered dully as she stood in the cottage's kitchen, watching her father-in-law stir an alarmingly blue cleaning fluid around the teapot with a spoon.

"It's hard to say, I think." Remus confessed as he reached to pour the liquid down the sink, leaving behind a squeaky clean, stain-free teapot. "I certainly don't think it went badly." Setting the teapot down upon the draining board, the werewolf turned to look round at the muggle, wondering: "What does Ted think? If she keeps it?"

"He's rather torn, I think." Carrie admitted dully, leaning back against the kitchen table. "He's all for making sacrifices to keep Pandora in education for as long as possible. But of course he wants her to take responsibility for what she's done. It's...no simple thing."

"No, it certainly isn't."

"I'd have to give up work almost completely, stay at home with the baby...she must at least get her A-Levels! I suppose that's only two years..."

"She's a bright girl, Carrie. She should be going to University."

"But is that reasonable, Remus? Is it reasonable to...to have us compensate for her absences for that long? And you know Pan, she struggles with school enough as it is! University?! That's hard work, Remus! Even without a baby!" Carrie sighed heavily as Remus turned back to stack plates away in a cupboard. "What would you have done, Remus?" Carrie asked after a long pause. "If...if you were me? If...if Ted and I were to have had a baby at Pan's age?"

Remus shrugged.

"That would have been an entirely different kettle of fish, Carrie." he said, reaching to close the cupboard. "I would have sent my son back off to Scotland to finish his education, I'd have seen you finish college and gone off to University, and I would have kept the baby at home with me whilst Dora was off to work. Because quite frankly I would have had little else better to do with my time. And I wouldn't have cared if Dora had taken a few extra shifts to make ends meet. It would have been worth it to see both you and Teddy achieve the best education we could give you. To me education is everything, Carrie. Because in my lifetime I've not had the opportunity for anything else. My education is all I have, and I would never have kept my head above water all these years without it. But you aren't the same as me, Carrie. Both you and Ted have far more in life on offer to you than simply attending school. Would it be fair for Pandora's decisions to dictate your life so much when you have both worked hard to give yourselves the freedom to do what you want with your time? I don't know the answer, Carrie. I don't know what that feels like. I don't know what it is to control your own future. For years my future was out of my control almost entirely. Then along came Dora, and she's been dictating my entire existence ever since. I'd throw away control of my future in a heartbeat for all of you because I've no real control to throw away to begin with." Offering Carrie an apologetic smile, Remus concluded: "I've no easy answers for you, Carrie."

"Well then," Carrie said, smiling faintly. "I suppose there's a first time for everything." Glancing over her shoulder at the kitchen door that led back out into the sitting room where they had left Pandora some while earlier, the muggle told the werewolf: "Ted suggests a family outing. You know, something normal and cheerful to keep Pan's spirits up. Are you busy at the weekend?"

"As it happens," Remus said, suddenly brightening. "I shall be chairing an Order meeting on Sunday afternoon."

"Oh?"

"For the Phoenix Day Parade. We've not got long to get organised!"

"Ah!" Carrie felt instantly cheered. "I'm excited already!" she declared, clapping her hands together in enthusiasm. "Do you know, I'd quite forgotten we were getting to that time of year again? Pan shall be delighted, she's always loved the parade!" She turned to push open the kitchen door as she called: "D'you hear, Pan love? It's the Phoenix Day Parade coming up! I'd quite forgotten...Pan?"

Pandora was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's she gone?" Carrie wondered as she stepped out into the sitting room, glancing round to find both the bathroom and bedroom doors open, the teenager nowhere to be seen.

Remus abandoned his tidying of the kitchen to join her in the doorway.

"She's not gone outside, has she?" he asked, sounding uncharacteristically worried, and Carrie glanced out of the window at the spitting rain before mumbling:

"Well I suppose she must have done..."

"No, no, no!" Remus insisted, making a beeline for the front door, "She can't be out there on her own, Carrie! We must find her, it isn't safe!"

"Why not?" Carrie asked, utterly bemused when Remus rushed outside without so much as snatching up a cloak, and she instantly ran after him in panic when he shouted:

"Dora flooed earlier to warn me! Jeff Fawley's been spotted in Canterbury!"

They strode hurriedly through the trees, leaving a large gap between the two of them so that they could just about make each other out in the distance, both shouting Pandora's name at the top of their lungs. Remus sent burst after burst of red sparks shooting up into the air from his wand in the hope that they might draw Pandora's attention, wherever she was, but as time dragged on they saw no sign of the missing Squib.

Carrie began to panic.

"What if he's here?!" she called to Remus as he sent another jet of sparks up into the trees. "What if...what if she bumps into him or..."

"I'm sure it's highly unlikely!" Remus called back, despite his earlier panic, but then he quickened his pace, shouting even louder than before.

Digging around in her pocket, Carrie extracted her mobile phone in the vague hope that she might attempt to call her daughter, but as was common when she spent any length of time in Remus' and Dora's cottage that was no doubt fit to burst with all kinds of magic, the muggle device appeared to have gone somewhat haywire. After jabbing anxiously at the keys and having no luck in unscrambling the nonsense error messages flashing upon the screen, Carrie gave a huff and shoved it back into her pocket. As she looked up again, shouting Pandora's name, a burst of silver light lit up the trees to her right and she glanced sideways to see Remus' patronus shoot off into the trees, zig-zagging back and forth as the werewolf's voice echoing from the shimmering light. When it had disappeared from view, Remus tried another tactic.

"PANDORA!" he shouted, magically amplified voice so loud that it make Carrie's ears ring, and Carrie was about to suggest that the two of them split up, only for movement to catch her attention out of the corner of her eye.

"Pan!" she cried, feeling brief relief as Pandora came sprinting through the trees towards her, only for the girl to stumble to a halt, flinging her arms around her mother as she cried:

"Mum! He's here! He's here and...and he's...he's got a...a GUN! And a...a...an inv...visibility c...cloak! And he...I...he was...he said...I..."

Carrie felt her heart begin to race as she threw her arms around the girl, hugging her tightly.
"Shhh!" she said as she heard Remus' brisk footsteps towards them. "It's alright, keep calm love...let's...let's just..."

"Here!" Remus called as he approached them, reaching to grasp hold of Carrie by the shoulder. "Hold still!"

"I saw him, Grandad! He's got a...a gun! And...and..."

And with that, they disapparated with a pop.

Pandora found herself being ushered up the garden path and through the front door, whereupon her mother deposited her in a chair as her grandfather pulled the door firmly shut behind them.

"Calm down, Sweetheart." the werewolf instructed as Carrie looked the girl up and down in scrutiny. "You're perfectly safe."

"Try and take some deep breaths." Carrie suggested, before doing precisely that herself. "Then...then tell Grandad and I precisely what happened."

"Jeff's in the...the woods...he's injured! He said it was Dad who did it to him! He hexed him in...in Canterbury and..."

"He saw you? You spoke to him?"

"Y...yes he...he made me bandage his wound and...and he's been reading all the newspapers and...and he's been keeping an eye on Nana and he...he's got a...a gun! He's got a gun, Grandad, and he's got an invisibility cloak and he's going to...to shoot anybody who...who goes after him!"

Remus went to snatch the pot of floo powder from above the fireplace, and as he scooped up a generous handful of the powder the werewolf muttered:

"Yes, well we'll see about that, won't we?" and with that he tossed the floo powder into the fire, leaning forward into the emerald flames...

Pandora watched, stomach twisting into terrified knots as she heard his muffled voice speaking through the fire.

"Good afternoon, I'd like a word with Mr. Potter if that's at all possible..."

"He's going to shoot them, Mum." Pandora whimpered as Carrie sank down onto the chair beside her. "They...they can't just...just go out there, he's...they can't deflect bullets, surely?!"

"I see," Remus was saying, his tone unfathomably calm, "Well do you suppose you might ask him to pop over here when he's finished with his meeting? Yes...yes, if you could just tell him that Jeffrey Fawley is in the woods behind my house with a gun and an invisibility cloak...yes, that's precisely what I just sa...yes...no, I'm absolutely certain it's him...yes..."

"Are you bloody kidding me?!" Rory McDermott exclaimed, eyes widening in surprise as he leant over the fire, only for a voice behind him to call:

"What on earth is all the fuss about, Rory?!"

Albert Diggory strode over to peer over the younger Auror's shoulder into the fireplace, a smile spreading across his face as he greeting:

"Ah! Remus!"

"Good afternoon, Bertie!" the man in the fire greeted pleasantly.

"How are you?" Bertie asked as beside him Rory fidgeted impatiently.

"Oh I'm perfectly well, thank you. How is Mrs. Diggory?"

Bertie was just opening his mouth to respond when Rory half-shouted:

"HE'S GOT JEFF FAWLEY IN HIS BLOODY BACK GARDEN!"

"He's what?!" Albert asked, eyes instantly widening, only for Remus to confess:

"That's not precisely what I said..."

"Well don't just bloody stand there, Rory!" Albert cried, giving Rory a firm push towards the office door. "Go and get Harry!"

"Perhaps you might tell my wife I'll put the kettle on." Remus called after him, only for Rory to ask Albert:

"Who's his wife...?"

"Give me strength..." Albert muttered, turning to hurry after him, leaving Remus to watch them go. As they turned the corner he heard Albert exclaiming: "That's the Deputy's husband, you bloody moron!"

"Is he really? Merlin, she's going to love this! Where is she, anyway?"

Dora had known there would be trouble from the moment they had stepped inside the door.

Indeed, she thought dully as she watched the stranger appear in the doorway to Isaac Graham's sitting room, she had probably known it before even then.

Because it was just one of those days.

Jasmine, midway through shrugging the robes from her shoulders, froze.

"What're you doing still here?" she asked the witch in the doorway, sounding instantly defensive. "Isaac said you were leaving at lunchtime!"

"Does it matter?" the other witch wondered, taking a few steps out into the hallway. "I wasn't about to leave him on his own now, was I?" She shot Jasmine a distinctly disapproving look, as if her need to attend work was in some way a disgrace. To Dora, she brightened abruptly, stepping forward to offer the Deputy Head of Aurors a hand, greeting:

"Hello! Isaac didn't say he was expecting visitors..."

"I'm not a visitor." Jasmine muttered sourly as she reached to hang up her robes. "I live here..."

"Vanessa Thornton," the other witch said, ignoring Jasmine entirely. "Pleasure to meet you..."

"Dora Lupin." Dora responded, consenting to shaking her hand. "You must be Isaac's sister! I've heard all about you!"

Jasmine sniggered. As Vanessa withdrew her hand, frowning every so slightly, Jasmine strode off towards the sitting room calling:

"Isaac, love! I'm back!"

"He's sleeping!" Vanessa snapped, only for a croaky voice to call:

"I'm perfectly wide awake, thank you."

Vanessa huffed, turning to stride off towards the kitchen.

"Can I get you a drink?" she asked Dora, and as she made to follow Jasmine into the sitting room, Dora shook her head.

"Oh, no. No thank you, I won't be staying long. I just came to..." she paused, not entirely sure that Jasmine would appreciate the phrase: see Jasmine home, and instead settled on: "see Isaac."

Vanessa shot the braces upon the Auror's legs a meaningful look before suggesting:

"Well do take a seat, won't you?"

Dora tried to offer her a smile, but couldn't really manage it. She went to hover in the doorway of the sitting room, whereupon she glimpsed former Auror Isaac Graham for the first time in months.

The first thing that struck her was just how painfully thin he had grown, his wasted body propped up in an armchair, thin and feeble even through the blankets that had been heaped around his legs as he sat slumped back in a reclining armchair. Jasmine, perched upon one arm, was busy rearranging the pillows at his back and as the sickly wizard looked up to spy Dora in the doorway, the metamorphmagus struggled to plaster a smile onto her face.

"Wotcher, Isaac." she greeted softly as he looked her up and down, keen eyes taking in every inch of her.

"Thank Merlin, she's alive!" he whispered hoarsely, and Jasmine raised an eyebrow as she carefully eased him back against the cushions.

"What d'you mean, love? Of course she is!"

"I know, I know. I just...I'm relieved, that's all. To see her for myself." Clearing his throat with some difficulty, he raised a trembling hand, holding it out for Dora to take. "Come here!" he wheezed, a slow smile spreading across his hollow features. "Let me see you..."

As soon as Dora started her stiff shuffle across the room towards him, his gaze snapped down to her legs and his face contorted.

"Merlin," he groaned as Jasmine reached to lay a comforting hand upon his knee. "What's he done to you?!"

"She's fine, aren't you Tonks?" Jasmine insisted, and as Dora reached to take hold of the wizard's hand.

"Don't you worry," she told him brightly. "You know me, I'll be fine!"

"I wanted to visit you," Isaac confessed, expression apologetic, "in Mungo's, I mean. But I...I couldn't quite manage to...to get out of bed..."

Dora gave an exaggerated huff.

"Well I suppose I could forgive you. This time!" she said, and the three of them managed a vague titter of amusement, Dora's grip upon Isaac's hand tightening. Finding him still trembling she glanced down at their interlocked fingers, struggling not to bite her lip.

"Nerves all...all shot to bits, I'm 'fraid." the dying man whispered, hastily pulling his hand free. "Makes me all...jittery..."

"I get jittery every time Jasmine walks into the room too." Dora confessed, doing her very best to be light-hearted, and she felt relieved when both Jasmine and Isaac laughed loudly.

At their apparent cheer as she came into the room with a tea tray, Isaac's sister shot the trio a disapproving look.

"I've made you a cup of tea, Isaac." she informed him briskly, setting the tray down upon the coffee table and retrieving the lone cup and saucer.

"Only me?" Isaac observed, sounding vaguely bemused but plastering a grateful smile onto his face anyway.

"They aren't staying." Vanessa informed him, reaching to rearrange the cushions Jasmine had just finished moving herself, very nearly elbowing Jasmine in the face in the process, causing the Auror to scowl.

"Oh..." Isaac's expression was momentarily awash with disappointment, only for a glance sideways at Jasmine to cause a weak smile to reappear upon his face. "No, I don't suppose they are. You must both be terribly busy at Headquarters! As you keep telling me, darling, the Deputy's work is never done!"

Jasmine paled.

"Actually," Dora interjected hurriedly as she went to carefully lower herself down into another chair, "Harry's given Jas the afternoon off!"

"Really?" Isaac said, sounding utterly delighted, and Jasmine visibly swallowed before nodding with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. "Did you hear that, Vanessa? You could pop off home in time to catch Archie before he leaves for..."

"How many times, Isaac?!" Vanessa exclaimed, rolling her eyes in a manner that made Jasmine's grip upon Isaac's knee tighten. "What's the point of having a fully qualified healer for a sister if you send her away every opportunity you get?! I keep telling you, it's no trouble! You're my brother! I can stay as long as you like!"

"I can look after him perfectly well, Vanessa..." Jasmine began, only for Vanessa to give a snort, hands flying to her hips.

"Perfectly well?!"

"Of course!"

"You wouldn't know where to start, dear!"

"Excuse me?" Jasmine said as Isaac took a distinctly resigned sip of his tea, only for his face to contort, causing his partner to observe: "Neither do you, apparently! You've gone and put sugar in his tea again, haven't you? I've told you repeatedly he doesn't take sugar..."

"You trample round this house like a herd of elephants and fuss over him far too much!" Vanessa accused as Jasmine half-snatched the cup and saucer from Isaac's hands and slammed them down upon the table. "He'll never get any rest with you around, you know! There's no wonder he's always looking so exhausted when I show up! I should be looking after him! I'm qualified! Where's your healers' certification in advanced medicinal practices, hm?!"

"He doesn't need some over-qualified, jumped-up, miserable cow watching him morning, noon and night!" Jasmine snapped furiously. "What's the use of all those bloody qualifications anyway?! You're not making him better, you know! He's dying, in case you hadn't noticed! I don't need a bloody fancy piece of paper to tell me that! At least I try and keep his spirits up instead of banging on about medication and rest and Merlin knows what all day long! At least I bloody listen to him! Why can't you just go home if he asks you to?! Why can't you just...just leave us on our own for once?!"

Vanessa gazed down her nose at Jasmine for a long moment, rather as if she were looking at a piece of chewing gum that had become stuck to her shoe, and then she plastered a smile across her face.

"Perhaps I will pop home after all!" she said, stepping forward to lean and press a kiss to her brother's cheek. "After all you two need to have a talk, don't you Isaac? About what we discussed earlier..."

Isaac opened his mouth to reply, only for Jasmine to beat him to it.

"Oh Merlin, what is it this time?!" she exclaimed, eyes widening in frustration. "Leave us alone, for Merlin's sake!"

"Darling..." Isaac began half-heartedly as Dora eyed the distinctly smug expression upon Vanessa's face wearily.

"Stop...stop dripping poison in his ear!"

"Jasmine."

"We can't all stick our heads in the clouds like you, Jasmine." Vanessa informed her calmly. "It's a horrible business, there's no doubt about it, but..."

"It's Isaac's will again, isn't it?! You've been prattling on about who he leaves the money to, haven't you?! Who the bloody hell do you think you are, anyway?!"

"I'm his sister! Who are YOU?!"

"I'm not going to claim to be anything! Who I am or who you are doesn't matter! You've got no right to sit here telling Isaac what he should do with...with the house or...or his saving or...or ANYTHING! It's HIS will! He can write whatever he bloody wants in it!"

Dora reached to bury her face in her hands. She wished she'd left Jasmine at the door...

"Of course he can!" Vanessa protested as Isaac reached to slide an arm around Jasmine's shoulders. "I'm was merely suggesting he take the time to think about the children! Not that I'd expect you to understand..."

"Oh?!" Jasmine laughed, sounding bordering on hysterical. "And why's that?! Because I don't have any children of my own?! Because I'm the money-grabbing little tart you've been painting me as for all these years?! Well d'you know what I think, Vanessa?! I think you should go home to those spoilt little brats of yours and suggest they go out and work hard for a living! That way they might take a leaf out of my book and wind up with enough of their own money that they don't have to go sponging off their dying uncle! Who, I might add, they barely speak to because they don't approve of that awful floozy from the office Mother dearest says he's shagging, though he's bound to get tired of her soon! Despite the fact that he's been shacked up with her since before some of the little darlings were a twinkle in their stuck-up snob of a mother's over-critical eye!"

There was a deafening silence, punctuated by Jasmine's abruptly gasping breaths, her face positively scarlet from her outburst. Dora slowly removed her face from her hands, lips pursed as she dared a glance up to find Isaac had slumped back against his cushions, only for Vanessa exclaim:

"How DARE you!"

Jasmine promptly burst into tears.

Dora felt rather as if something inside her head had snapped.

"That's it!" the Deputy Head of Aurors declared, hands slapping down upon the arms of her chair as she heaved herself back onto her feet. "I can't be doing with any of this!"

"Are you leaving?" Vanessa asked as Jasmine crumpled sideways until she had her face buried in the front of Isaac's robes, and as he patted her gingerly upon the shoulder, the sickly wizard watched in astonishment as Dora promptly announced:

"No, Mrs. Thornton, you are!"

"I beg your pardon?!" Vanessa exclaimed, sounding utterly appalled, and Isaac reached to smooth Jasmine's hair out of his eyes to watch Dora usher his sister out into the hallway. Had he not felt so utterly exhausted and despairing of his sister's ongoing war with Jasmine, he might have been amused.

"I've rather missed having Tonks around to kick people out of places." he admitted, but Jasmine didn't appear to be listening.

Dora stayed out of the sitting room just long enough to raid the kitchen cupboards in search of coffee, whereupon she took her time making Jasmine a steaming mug that was bordering on coal-black. By the time she returned to the sitting room, she found Jasmine had taken her vacated chair, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. Conversation had grown calmer, and Vanessa seemed quite forgotten when Isaac informed Dora:

"Jas tells me you rather saved her skin this morning."

Dora found herself hanging her head.

"I only wish I could've done more, Isaac." she admitted as Jasmine's shoulders slumped dejectedly.

"No," Isaac wheezed, pausing to clear his throat before reaching sideways, fingers brushing Jasmine's arm. "You did the perfect thing. This is just what we need, isn't it darling?"

Jasmine shrugged, only for his hand to come to rest upon her knee.

"I couldn't be happier." the ailing wizard confessed softly as Jasmine gave a sniff. "She still has a job and perhaps now she has fewer responsibilities she might take a few more days off work. Perhaps I might have my Jasmine here with me to make me smile!"

"I'll make sure you do, Isaac." Dora assured him, as Jasmine finally cracked a smile, accepting the cup of coffee that Dora held out for her to take.

"You could bunk off for a little while longer, you know." Jasmine suggested, nodding towards the sofa, and Dora grinned and went to ease herself down into the chair.

"You look how I feel, I think." Isaac told her as she sunk back into the seat with a sigh of relief, and Dora eyes the sickly wizard as he sat with one hand in Jasmine's lap, the red-haired witch's free hand toying affectionately with his fingers. He looked so worn, so tired, Dora felt almost frightened that if he were to dose off to sleep he might never wake up again.

"Oh, I hope not!" she confessed, and though Isaac smiled, there was something rather telling about the lifelessness of his eyes.

It was almost as if he were slipping away right there in front of her, Jasmine clinging to him for all she was worth...

All of a sudden a bright silvery light came shooting through the front window, engulfing the room in silver and causing Isaac to jump, his weary eyes screwed shut.

And Dora blinked her vision back into focus to see the stag patronus turn to stare directly at her, Harry's voice echoing around the room:

Tonks, meet us at yours, Remus says Pandora's seen Fawley in the woods behind the house!

"What?!" Jasmine exclaimed, very nearly jumping to her feet as Dora felt her heart stop dead in her chest, only for Harry's voice to add:

Don't be long, will you? Remus is putting the kettle on...

And with that, the patronus disappeared.

Dora stared at the spot where it had stood, attempting to order the abrupt muddle of thoughts that immediately began to whizz around her head, only for Jasmine to ask:

"Did he just say Remus is...making tea?!"

"Bloody hell..." Dora concluded.