The Aisling Diary

Nailing Tonks down for a drink these days was like trying to find a Bowtruckle in a forest. She'd been busy for four years, though she'd become increasingly difficult to find in the last few months. Levi was a dad and even he was easier to pin down. Aisling had managed to arrange seeing Tonks for the first time since February, and there was a lot to catch up on. Aisling filled her in on all the news from her job, and Tonks didn't say anything about hers (she'd been annoyingly smug about Auror confidentiality at first, although Aisling was used to it now. If Aisling's experience of adult life was anything to go by, Tonks' work at the Ministry probably mostly involved making tea and tidying up other people's paperwork). Then Tonks asked how Aisling's sister was up to.

"Do you seriously wanna know?" Aisling groaned. Deirdre's life took a lot of explaining given that she spent her time careering around Europe making half-hearted attempts at getting jobs and whole-hearted attempts at getting into trouble.

"Course. I know she's hopeless but she's entertaining," Tonks grinned.

"You all say that 'cos you don't have to be related to her,"

"If I was related to Deirdre I'd have strangled her by now,"

"Trust me, I've come close,"

"Go on, then, where is she this time?" Tonks prompted.

Aisling recounted Deirdre's latest fiasco, involving a donkey, a pair of identical twins, and a major mix-up with Danish currency.

Tonks howled with laughter. "Is she ever gonna get her head screwed on?"

"Doubt it," Aisling sighed.

"You know what my first memory of your sister is? Her and that girl called Maya flogging tickets to the Quidditch match,"

"They did that for ages. She tried to sell tickets to our grandparents once," Aisling remembered.

"It took Mick until second-year to learn that we didn't have to pay,"

"That's Mickey for you, isn't it,"

"Have you seen him lately?" asked Tonks.

That was an odd question- Tonks knew that Aisling and the rest of the gang saw each other all the time. "Course. He's free tonight, didn't he tell you?"

Tonks looked sheepish. "He did, but I kind of wanted it to me just you and me,"

"That's romantic," Aisling smirked.

"Mmm," said Tonks, moving her wine glass onto the table to pick up her coaster and fiddle with it, "Speaking of that,"

That piqued Aisling's curiosity. "You're seeing someone?" she yelped.

Tonks nodded. Aisling drummed her fingers on the table excitedly. "Ooh! Since when? What's his name?"

"John," Tonks answered, "Johnny,"

"Johnny Campbell, that Ravenclaw guy in the year above us?"

"No. He's someone you don't know. He's- please don't make a big deal about this, okay?"

She looked at Aisling beseechingly. Aisling held her hands up in surrender. "When have I ever made a big deal of stuff?"

Tonks dropped the coaster on the table. "When I missed José 's 21st and you all didn't shut up about it for months,"

"I-"

"That time you dropped a galleon on the floor of the Snuffling Walnut and gave the waitress your address in case she found it later,"

"A galleon's a lot of money!"

"When Mickey told us he was gay,"

"That was when we were thirteen," Aisling protested, "Just tell me, okay?"

"He's a Muggle," answered Tonks, very quickly.

Aisling hadn't been expecting that. "What, a Muggle-Muggle? Like my mum? Not a Muggle-born?"

"A Muggle-Muggle. That's why I'm telling you before the others, 'cos of your mum, I know you won't be weird about it," said Tonks, in a tone which clearly warned Aisling: Don't be weird about it.

"No, it's not weird," Aisling assured her hurriedly, then admitted, "Not exactly normal, but it worked out okay for my lot,"

Tonks nodded avidly.

"Where d'you meet a Muggle, anyway? Didn't realise that's what you and Moody do on your mystery excursions,"

Tonks bridled, the way she always did when anybody dropped hints about her job. "He's a friend of my cousin's," she explained, "On Dad's side,"

"Does he, you know, know?" Aisling asked, wide-eyed.

"Nah. Legally you're not supposed to tell a significant other until you're engaged,"

"My dad told my mum on their second date," said Aisling, then added hurriedly, "If Moody asks, I never said that,"

Tonks looked uncomfortable again, and Aisling wondered if it was because she'd brought up Moody, but then Tonks continued in the same rapid tone, "The other thing about him is that he's thirty-six,"

Aisling almost choked on her wine. "Piss off he is!"

"It's true,"

"Thirty-six? You're going out with a thirty-six-year-old Muggle?"

Thirty-six was old. People who were thirty-six were proper adults. Aisling didn't feel like a proper adult. Levi kept saying that he didn't see himself as an grown-up, despite being married with a one-year-old. And no matter how respectable Tonks' job was, Aisling knew that she didn't feel like an actual adult either. But thirty-six-year-olds really did have to have their lives together.

"Yes. He's lovely," Tonks promised, looking into her glass and smiling coyly to herself, "He's...amazing, to be honest,"

"Is it strange? Him being so old,"

"A bit," Tonks answered, "Sometimes. Not especially,"

"Who asked who out?"

"I asked him. He's a bit- he didn't want it to seem, I dunno, improper,"

"Is he, you know?" smirked Aisling, raising an eyebrow.

"What?"

"You know what they say about older blokes,"

"No?"

"They're supposed to be better in bed,"

Tonks shrugged.

"Go on, then. Is he?" nagged Aisling, tapping the table again to make Tonks answer faster.

"Dunno. We haven't done it yet,"

"You've been with this fella since Christmas and you haven't f-"

"We're taking it slowly,"

That was the lamest excuse Aisling had ever heard. Had this old bloke turned Tonks old too?

"Better not go too slow, at his age he doesn't have much time left," she sniggered.

"About that," Tonks interrupted, and she looked shiftier now, "The other thing is that he's ill,"

Aisling stopped giggling. "What kind of ill?"

"Something wrong with his blood,"

"What is it?" Aisling asked, picturing vials and syringes and the smell of hospital, which was as clinical and unpleasant in Muggle hospitals as in St Mungo's.

"It's complicated," Tonks answered stonily. Why had she told Aisling not to be weird about this, when she was being weird herself? Tonks was only ever this illusive about work, not her real life. Aisling reckoned the best option was to press on like this was a joke.

"Is it AIDS? You're going out with a Muggle with AIDS. Oh my God, it's Freddie Mercury," she gasped.

Tonks rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I'm going out with a bloke who died for years ago,"

"Thirty-six? Seriously?" Aisling repeated, "What do you talk about?"

She wouldn't have the first thing to say to a thirty-six-year-old. What did people that age discuss? Mortgage? Back-ache? How much cheaper chocolate frogs used to be?

Tonks shrugged again. "Normal stuff. He's normal. Normal...and amazing,"

She chuckled to herself.

"Is he fit?" Aisling pushed on. Tonks' previous boyfriend, Geoffrey, was fit but turned out to be whiney and annoying.

"Not your type," Tonks dismissed, "He's kind of tall, though,"

"Tall is my type. You know my policy, anybody over six foot," winked Aisling, clicking her tongue. It was unfortunate at the moment that the only straight guys she met were taken or tiny.

"You'd get on with him," Tonks continued, "He's dead clever without being wanky about it. He's done tonnes of different jobs and he's...you know when someone makes being kind seem sexy?"

"Err, yes,"

"That's him," affirmed Tonks, sipping her wine. Aisling hadn't heard her so enthusiastic about a guy since they were teenagers, and wasn't sure how to respond.

"Well," she said eventually, "I'm happy you're happy,"

"So happy," Tonks trilled, then added, "Don't tell the boys, okay? You know Mick'll be OTT,"

"Totally," Aisling agreed, clinking her glass against Tonks'. Mickey would fuss, because Mickey loved fussing, and Levi had barely met any Muggles so he wouldn't understand. He wasn't an intolerant type of pureblood, he was just naïve. Thinking of that made Aisling remember that there now a number of seriously intolerant purebloods on the loose.

"Are you not, kind of...you know, with the break-out?" she warned. In January, prisoners had escaped from Azkaban. Not random prisoner: all You-Know-Who's biggest supporters, the ones Aisling had been told to be frightened of as a kid. One of them, Bellatrix Lestrange, was Tonks' mum's sister. Tonks didn't talk about her very often- obviously they'd never met- but as far as Aisling was concerned it was a terrifying connection, especially with the Lestranges back on the loose. Dating a Muggle certainly wouldn't help.

Tonks fiddled with her coaster again and said nothing. Aisling wasn't surprised by that, but she couldn't drop it.

"Tonks," she prompted.

"You know I can't say," Tonks winced. Aisling and their friends had known all year that Tonks knew more than she could say about what happened to Cedric Diggory and what the deal with Harry Potter was. Tonks knew about the Azkaban break-out, too. Until that had happened, Aisling had been sure that You-Know-Who wasn't actually back from the dead. Accidents were part of the Triwizard so Ced Diggory's death was likely a terrible accident. Harry Potter was only fourteen or something, and he seemed like a drama queen. That interview he'd done a few weeks ago had been thorough, but it was in a nutcase magazine and written by Rita Skeeter, so not a reliable source. But the Azkaban break-out was definitely true, and it was frightening. Tonks obviously knew what had actually happened, and even if all she did at the Ministry was make tea and faff with paperwork, being an Auror would certainly put her in danger if anything were to happen. Plus the Lestrange connection, plus this Muggle fella.

"But-"

"Don't, okay?" Tonks huffed.

"Sorry for not wanting you go get brutally murdered,"

"That's not fair,"

"I know you know more than I do but...just promise me you know what you're doing with this bloke?" Aisling pleaded. Last Summer, after the initial You-Know-Who return rumour started, Aisling had been briefly worried about her Mum, though her concern had petered out rapidly when the rumour seemed to be a hoax. Since the Azkaban break-out Aisling had been nervous for her family again, though it was difficult to gauge exactly how concerned she should be given that there'd been no attacks on Muggle-borns or mixed families. The situation was bewildering, and Aisling felt like she needed someone in power to tell her exactly what's going on. If Tonks, with her job and her psycho aunt, reckoned she could get away with going out with a Muggle, didn't that suggest that the circumstances weren't that serious?

"I do. I promise, okay?" Tonks insisted. Aisling eyed her uneasily. She wanted to press the issue, but she could tell that Tonks wouldn't give a straight answer.

Aisling took another sip of wine and mumbled, "Okay," although she didn't feel particularly okay.

"Thanks," murmured Tonks. She started fiddling with the coaster again. Aisling looked at her, feeling awkward and puzzled and irate. She felt like snapping at Tonks to stop being dramatically cagey and to explain properly what was going on with You-Know-Who and Azkaban and her sickly old Muggle boyfriend. But Aisling knew she couldn't say any of that.

"So," she continued, forcing herself to sound jovial, "Did you hear Dyllis Jaktarth's got a trial with the Harpies?".