"I never thought I'd be here again," Sirius muttered, looking up at the façade of his family's home, gloomy and uncompromising even in the summer sun.

Remus took a tighter grip on his wand. The carved stone snakehead over the door seemed to be grinning at them, both a challenge and a threat. He'd never seen Sirius' childhood house but he had heard enough when they were in school to not look forward to what they faced inside.

"Ready to make your family roll in their graves?" Remus asked, nodding at the solid, studded oak.

Sirius smirked and rolled up the sleeves of his robes. "With pleasure."

He pressed his hand to the door, murmuring too softly for Remus to hear. For a tense moment, it appeared as though the password hadn't worked, then a series of metallic clunks and groans sounded as the house reluctantly opened itself for them.

Sirius crossed the shadowed threshold first and Remus followed, conjuring a pale blue fire in his free hand to light the lifeless space as they moved deeper into the entryway. Nothing happened.

"Watch for the umbrella stand there on your right. One of Father's treasures," his friend whispered and Remus shifted over as they walked forward.

"Hello?" Sirius called. Again, nothing. He called again, louder, and the sound echoed down the halls. The door slammed shut behind them, blocking out any borrowed light from the world outside.

"YOU!" came a horrid, screeching howl.

They raised their wands together, facing the direction of the voice. Remus' blue flames grew and danced from fixture to fixture around the foyer, illuminating the portrait of a miserable-looking woman who opened her mouth and started to scream.

"YOU FESTERING CANKER OF A BLOODTRAITOR! YOU SORRY EXCUSE FOR AN HEIR! YOU DARE SHOW YOUR FACE IN THIS HOUSE AGAIN?"

"Bloody bollocking balls, you frightful old hag!" Sirius shouted back.

"YOU STAIN UPON THE NAME OF BLACK! WHY COULDN'T IT HAVE BEEN YOU WHO DIED INSTEAD OF YOUR BROTHER?"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" he yelled and began to blast the portrait with a cascade of spells that rained so thick upon the paint, the air around the portrait waivered like a mirage with the heat of his magic. And even still the subject of the portrait screamed dreadful curses and insults, joined now by a few other occupants of portraits that decorated the room, presumably called back to their perches by curiosity.

"Disappointment!"

"Lower than a house-elf!"

Some even hurled rebukes against Remus, though these were admittedly less apt: "Sloppy dresser!" "Incompetent coward!" "Brown-haired bore!"

The din was becoming unbearable and Remus couldn't shake the concern that there were things in the house that had been waiting for intruders like them for some time. There goes the element of surprise… With several flicks of his wand, Remus summoned curtains over the portrait of Walburga Black and wrenched them closed over her twisted, snarling face, casting a final "Silencio!" on the fabric and the space around it.

Both men breathed heavily for a moment as the other portraits quieted to dark, resentful mutterings, muffled by the cobwebs covering their frames and seemingly cautious of incurring a similar fate.

Sirius recovered first. Pushing back his unkempt hair he said, "Remus, may I have the pleasure of introducing you to my dearmother."

Remus gave a deep, sardonic bow to the covered witch. "Ah yes. I can see the resemblance in your penchant for creative insults."

His friend responded with a snort of laughter that had them both chuckling for far longer than it should have as the adrenaline continued to pound in their veins. It was exhilarating to have taken up a fight again together. Sirius echoed Remus' thoughts when he sighed, "Merlin's beard! What I wouldn't give to be seventeen again! This would all feel like the dream back them—breaking my mum's things, pissing off my ancestors, fighting curses, all with one of my best mates… Now, it's just depressing." His dark eyes took on that haunted, faraway aspect that Remus had begun to dread.

Remus collected himself, saying, "Well, shall we see what other delights your family left in store for you?"

Out of curiosity, Remus opened the neared door only to be met with a bone-deep, unnatural cold and the desire to fall asleep on his feet. Jerking himself, he snapped the door shut and locked it with several spells. Sirius had moved towards him but Remus shook his head. "Kikimora in the closet."

Sirius opened the next door only to withdraw quickly, his face a greenish-gray. "Disgusting-grindylow in the loo."

It had become a sort of game and they opened the next door together. Remus was sure the kitchen been pleasant at some point but it was currently suffering from a rather nasty infestation of spiders the size of saucers which spun webs that were an unnerving acid-green hue. They shut that door too.

"How about a competition, Padfoot? Spiders are ten points, doxies are fifty, bogarts a hundred—"

"And Kreature, my mum's old house elf, is a thousand, if he's still alive."

"Sirius…" Remus chastened.

"Alright, alright, fine! Kreature doesn't count. But after a week you'll wish he did. Now, are you ready to lose, Moony?"

"Being the most wanted criminal in all of Britain has surely gone to your head, Sirius. Besides, as you recall, you still owe me from our first bet."

"Should've known you wouldn't let me forget that one. Fine, Moony, double or nothing?"

"Do your worst. 1…2…"

"3!" they cried together and turned to face the horrors of the most honorable house of Black.

000

It should have been a nightmare—she wished it was.

Even as she lay in the sunlight in her parents' back garden, her arms and legs exposed and being tickled by sweet-smelling grass, the horror stayed with her. A chill of remembered distortion and tearing rippled through her body despite the day's warmth.

Her first transformation had come and gone now—but the pain of it lingered deep in her bones along with a tender exhaustion two days' worth of sleep couldn't seem to cure.

Once more Tonks lifted her head and pushed back her sunglasses to survey her body once more. The feeling of no longer quite being able to trust it was new for her. Sure, she had put it through some bumps and bruises in the past due to her clumsiness and recklessness, but this was different. The memory of her skin stretching, the sharp prick of hair growing quickly all over her body, the teeth sharpening in her mouth, tongue lengthening, eyes changing into those of a predator. She was no longer alone within her skin—the wolf dwelled inside her, too. And it always would.

The knowledge was…violating.

But there was also the utter embarrassment of having to crawl on her hands and knees to the pile of clothes she'd discarded before the transformation began and the loneliness of her parents having to lock her away in the garden shed, even if it was magically enlarged from the inside. Plus, the humiliation of having to surrender her wand and become powerless for the long, dark hours where she no longer had hands to hold it with.

She knew her parents had stayed away all night, taking turns watching from the kitchen window because she could taste the Pep-me Up Potion in the air the next morning. The concerned tenderness of her father waiting to help her inside the house while her mother went inside the shed to clean up the damage she had caused filled her with shame. It was worse than being a child again…

Still, it wasn't as terrible as everyone says, she forced herself to think. Tiring, painful, and humiliating…but she was no stranger to all that. She'd survived adolescence after all. Just think about it like really bad puberty for one night a month.

"Nymphadora!" her mother called from the kitchen window.

"Oi, you nearly gave me a heart attack! What is it, Mum?" Tonks shouted back.

"Come inside! Your liaison is here."

Rolling her eyes, Tonks slowly stood and stretched, wincing at the soreness that lingered in her joints. She entered the house to find the Ministry witch who'd been assigned to her sitting primly on the living room armchair, hands clasped in her lap. An array of potions, poultices, and herbs were laid out on the coffee table in front of her. The smell from all the medicinal treatments almost made Tonks gag as much as seeing the sharp-faced witch who had watched her like a hawk since the day she was dismissed from St. Mungo's. Always ready with a poison-laced compliment or derisive smile, Tonks didn't trust her in the least and only put up with her barbs to get back to her work as an Auror as soon as possible.

"Good morning, Miss Tonks. I see you have neglected your remedies this morning. I'll have to make a note of it on your record. We can't have you being so carelessness—" But further criticisms were cut off by a knock at the door. Ignoring the rest of her dressing down, Tonks went to the door to find a familiar face.

"Wotcher, Kingsley! You're a sight for sore eyes!"

"As are you, Tonks," he said with a smile. "May I come in?"

"Oh yeah, always." She shut the door behind him and his billowing purple robes and noticed him draw up short.

"Ah, I didn't realize you already had company."

The Ministry witch unfurled herself from the armchair, her back ramrod straight and eyes cold over severely angled cheekbones. "Indeed, she does. I am Florence Bartleby, Miss Tonks' Dark Creature Liaison representative. And who might you be?"

"Her superior at the Ministry—Auror Shacklebolt, Deputy Head of the Auror Department."

Bartleby pushed her glasses up with a finger to the bridge as she made no secret of her appraisal of him. "I wasn't aware it was the duty of someone in your position to visit lowly novices at their homes."

Kingsley's deep voice rumbled around the living room. "Normally no, but there is very little normal about this situation."

"And it is my understanding that in abnormal circumstances, adherence to protocol is even more important. I would be pleased to pass along your message to the werewolf."

"That won't be necessary, Miss Bartleby. It is a high-security message and must be delivered to Auror Tonks in person as soon as possible."

"And why would a werewolf on medical leave be privy to highly classified information?"

"As it pertains to the hunt for her cousin, Sirius Black, who poses a significant threat to her family's wellbeing, I should say she has a right to know."

Florence Bartleby looked like she was going to protest but Andromeda appeared in the entrance of the kitchen. Tonks noticed her mother's hooded eyes were full of disdain and dismissal, grateful that look wasn't being directed at her for once.

"Perhaps you would be more comfortable filling out your report in the back room," said Andromeda, raising an eyebrow that allowed no room for argument. The Ministry witch seemed ready to protest but thought better of it as Andromeda towered above her. "Come. Follow me."

"You have five minutes," spat the witch as she followed down the hall.

"Charming," said Kingsley, shaking his head.

"You don't know the half of it. But you best make it quick, Kingsley… When she says five minutes, she means it. She notices everything. She's probably counting the seconds right now."

"Very well, but first how are you, Tonks?"

"Bored. Come on, you know me. I can't stay still for too long and this home-bound nonsense is driving me mental."

"Well, that I can help with. Here." He handed her a piece of parchment. She unfolded it and looked up in confusion. "12 Grim—"

"No!" he admonished in a hushed tone. "Not out loud! Memorize that address. Moody will be waiting for you there at eight this evening. Get ready, Tonks—you're about to see what life in the Order is really like." He gave her a grand smile, perfect white teeth glowing against his skin.

"Are you serious? Tonight?! What is it? A mission? Will I be undercover?"

"No, not a mission yet. This is just a chance for the members of the Order to meet one another. You're technically not a member yet, you have to be voted in to join, but as you've got Dumbledore, Moody, your cousin, and myself on your side, I wouldn't worry."

"My cousin?"

"Right, that's the second part of why I'm here. I wasn't lying before—I do have top-secret information about Black to tell you, but it's not what you're thinking. You see, Dumbledore has known where Black has been hiding for almost a year now. Sirius is one of us. One of the good ones."

Tonks just stared at him, her thoughts racing. Sirius…on their side?

A shrill call from the back of the house interrupted her train of thought, "You have one minute left!"

"Damn that—" Tonks began but stopped under Kingsley's gaze. "—witch," she finished weakly. "But anyway, when can I go back to the Department? I've got through my first moon now and it honestly wasn't terrible. I'm fine!"

Suddenly he looked uncomfortable. "Tonks…"

"No. Don't say no, Kingsley. Please don't say no."

"It's not no, but it's not yes yet. You're too much of an unknown right now. You couldn't have picked a worse time to be bitten. They're not even willing to spare anyone to investigate what happened to you that night. Fudge is working overtime to disprove Harry and Dumbledore's narrative."

Tonks scoffed, "You mean the truth? Is Fudge really so thick as to believe they'd lie about something like You-Know-Who coming back?"

"Fudge is revealing himself to be willing to do a great many things to stay in power."

"You don't think he's been Imperiosed, do you?"

"No, but he's helping the other side nonetheless by deliberately obscuring the truth."

"Why yes, Miss Bartleby, those are antique manuscript pages we have framed in the hall. How delightful of you to notice!" Andromeda's voice rang out in warning as she led the Ministry liaison back to the living room.

"Don't forget about tonight, Tonks. And keep your chin up," he whispered, hand on the doorknob. To the other two women as they entered the room again he nodded to each in farewell, "Andromeda, Miss Bartleby, Tonks… I must get back to the office. Take care!"

When Tonks looked up, she found the witch watching her suspiciously. Not wanting to encourage more scrutiny, Tonks chirped with an eagerness she didn't feel, "Well, let's get these potions down, shall we?" Inside she cringed, knowing she'd spend the rest of the afternoon in a groggy haze. She'd have to fake adding some of the ingredients again just so she'd be alert that evening, but who was to know? There was no way she'd miss her first Order meeting.

000

Sirius was nearly mad with impatience, unable to eat the dinner Molly Weasley had sent with Arthur for him. Remus had said she'd be at the meeting that night, but with his friend out on a mission that would make him late for the proceedings, Sirius shifted restlessly. He had no interest in McGonagall's small talk with Hestia Jones nor the latest developments in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. Then he heard the front door open and a breath later Moody entered the kitchen.

Tonks stepped out of Mad Eye's shadow to reveal herself in the low lamplight, looking boldly back into the faces turned towards her. And then she noticed him.

For a long moment, they just looked over each other. He hated to even guess what she saw. Though he'd seen her picture in The Daily Prophet, it was different seeing her in person. She looked much more like her father in the face than he had expected, the same twinkle in her eyes she'd had when he'd come over and play with her when she was a child. But she had her mother's coloring and there was something else he couldn't quite name.

As he approached her around the large table, he saw a few fresh cuts on her face and neck and her short, dark brown hair was growing back uneven and disheveled. She wore torn clothing, though that could be a fashion choice. She didn't look well—he should know, he was an expert in feeling like a shadow of his former self.

"Hey, ickle Tonksie," drawled Sirius with a grin which Tonks echoed. "Sirius!" she cried before launching herself into his arms. They laughed together as he spun her around, her feet lifting off the ground and knocking back a kitchen chair in the cramped space. A few Order members took a step back out of the way of those thick-soled dragonhide boots. But neither bloodtraitor to the Blacks seemed to care much as the old convict set her down, twin expressions of excitement in their eyes. Before they could say anything, though, Moody interrupted with a harsh, "Alright, alright, knock it off you two. If you haven't noticed there's a war on and we haven't got all night. Everyone—take a seat and let's get started."

"I forgot happiness gave you hives, Moody," she joked as she took a seat between her mentor and her cousin.

"And you get them from rules," he shot back. "Now, first things first, we'll have introductions all around, ending with Tonks here who is our latest recruit."

When it was her turn to introduce herself, Sirius gave her what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. Then, she stood and shoved her hands in her frayed back pockets.

"It's an absolute honor to be here, I just have to say that first. I never thought I'd have the chance, so thank you all for letting me attend tonight. But before I go on, I want you all to know something." She took a deep breath, clearly steeling herself. "I've known some of you for years, either as professors or just by chance but recently, well… I'm not the same anymore. I'm—um—a werewolf now." A ripple coursed through the room as tense looks were exchanged and uncertain murmurs of concern. Sirius took careful note of the ones who appeared most fearful and filed that information away for later.

She continued, "I only think it's fair that you know upfront before you allow me to join the Order." An awkward silence hung above the kitchen table.

Then Moody stood and grunted, "I know some of you may be wondering why I invited Tonks here to join us. One, we need all the help we can get these days from decent people and she's as decent as they come. Two, she is a bloody good Auror."

"Was," she corrected.

"Is and the youngest person in the last half-century to pass the test and one of the most talented defensive spellcasters I know. I vouch for her and her usefulness to the Order—werewolf or not." No one at the table could recall Alastor Moody ever speaking so highly or with such optimism before.

He sat back down and took a swig of his flask.

The room was still quiet when Tonks spoke again, cheeks vibrant with a blush, "My change was…recent. The Ministry isn't sure they want to have a werewolf on the team, despite the clear advantages having one on hand would be to help catch Dark wizards. I've been suspended and I'm on the brink of unemployment, but I can't just sit idly by. I want to keep fighting, I need to. I just hope the Order will allow me to serve in any way possible. So…yeah." She took her seat again, nervously fingering the loose threads hanging from her jumper.

Sirius stood next, "We need someone like her to teach us old dogs new tricks. I'm all for it."

Kingsley was about to get to his feet when Albus Dumbledore spoke from the top of the kitchen stairs, "Miss Tonks has my full confidence in her abilities and judgment." He continued speaking as he moved into the room. "My apologies—I received an urgent owl that could not be delayed. However, am I to assume that she has received the requisite three votes of confidence from current members of the Order for her admission?"

"Aye, sir," Moody grunted.

"Then it is my happy duty to welcome you into our ranks, Tonks. May you serve those in the Order and Wizardkind with loyalty, pride, and wisdom. We are honored to have you. And now, I have some information to share with all of you—"

The rest of the meeting continued as Dumbledore gave them details about movements the other side was making and ways they would be countering them. It lasted about two more hours and ended with Tonks signing her name on a piece of enchanted parchment listing all of Order members, past and current. Sirius even spotted his own looping scrawl squashed between Peter and James' signatures.

"Congratulations, lass!" said Moody, as he thumped her on the back, a rather unfortunate grin warping his battle-scarred face.

"Sirius, a toast?"

"Excellent idea, Dumbledore!" With a wave of his wand, he summoned the newly scrubbed crystal goblets from the cabinet and a bottle of fine elf-made wine from the cellar. When all in the room had a glass in their hand, he stood and cleared his throat which was raw with emotion. Looking around the table, it was good to see the ones who were still with them, older and more worn than before. The Order was growing; they weren't giving up the fight. Holding his glass of wine high he said, "To the best of us who are gone."

"And to the rest of us who must carry on," added a familiar voice. A nondescript elderly gentleman had joined their ranks and as he raised his glass, the wrinkles smoothed, his hair returned to its usual sandy brown, and his beard shrank back into a forgetful scruff—Remus Lupin had returned. The rest of the room repeated his words and drank.

Lupin offered Tonks a slight smile as he spoke again, "Congratulations, Nymphadora." Before she could respond, he had already been pushed aside by the others who moved forward to welcome her and another bottle later Sirius was giving her a final crushing hug goodbye with the demand that she not be a stranger because, as he slurred, "Us Black sheep have to stay together." She threw her head back and laughed and he was proud to see the weariness she'd carried with her into the meeting was disappearing before his eyes. He also noticed the awkward way his friend kept his distance from her, yet still cast inscrutable glances at the back of her head every once in a while.

Huh, he thought. Maybe being stuck in that blasted old house wouldn't be so boring after all.