It was the day before February's full moon and Tonks was at her wit's end. She felt grumpier than usual: she felt hot flashes and chills surfacing every few hours, nausea, and the craving for red meat. If it wasn't for the scratch on her leg that she'd sustained, as her only injury from the DMLE werewolf massacre, she might've thought she was pregnant.

Instead, she was feeling irritated, uncomfortable, and wondering if this was how Hope and Bill felt near the full moon. She tried not to think about how much worse it was for Remus and all werewolves, who experienced those symptoms at least a week before the full moon, or how much stronger the discomfort was for them.

She chose to channel her frustration into yet another unproductive Auror meeting.

"Lee is involved with this, I just know it," Tonks repeated, frustrated by her department's lack of progress in the werewolf massacre case.

"We know, Tonks," replied Harry, brushing his messy black fringe from his forehead. "We haven't got any evidence."

"And being a total knobhead doesn't count as evidence," Flan interjected, as Tonks opened her mouth to protest. "We know he's a prick but we've got nothing on him."

Tonks pinched the bridge of her nose and called an end to the meeting. She returned to her office to pace along the walls, which were messily covered in memos, reminders, and bits of information from the department's caseload. Precious little information had been uncovered in the case of the massacre.

They hadn't made much progress and she felt they were going further from the truth. A few suspects were on their minds—witches and wizards previously known for violence against werewolves—but they were grasping at straws. The DMLE attack had to have been orchestrated by someone within the Ministry or the ability to break into the Ministry undetected.

Tonks's coffee had been spiked, she'd been requested at the holding cells, and the cells themselves weren't properly secured. The cells were likely tampered with before the full moon. Of the wands recovered from the morning after that bloody full moon, the DMLE workers who had lost their lives had cast all the appropriate charms on the cells to ensure they were secure. Unless those workers intended their own grisly deaths, someone else had interfered. Evidence of counter-charms were in place on the cells, but given the charms' and counter-charms' frequent use, it was virtually impossible to know if the magic was from sabotage or departmental routine.

Profiles of all the holding cell workers were put together; not a single one pointed to a wish to die by such painful means. Tonks had seen the workers torn apart before her eyes. No one in their right mind would want that kind of death.

It was frustrating Tonks to know that not only had all those workers lost their lives, but the werewolves had been killed (or killed each other), which left over a dozen children without a mother or father. It sent chills down her spine, knowing how close she had been to losing her life, too. Someone wanted her dead, and the fear of not coming home to her husband and children kept her more alert than ever.

It seemed that all those years of Moody's constant vigilance were finally being put to good use.

"Oi, Tonks!" called Cai, from his office across the hall. "I've got an idea."

Tonks poked her head out into the corridor. "I'm all ears."

"Don't you think it's a tad suspicious that the Wizengamot approved the order for use of lethal force?"

"Not really." Tonks blew a magenta tuft out of her face and ignored the wave of nausea that washed over her. "They're not any keener on werewolves than the Beast Division is."

"Right," replied Cai, in a patronizing tone, as if Tonks was missing something grand. "What if the Wizengamot is at fault?"

"That's ridiculous," Tonks dismissed. "There are at least a hundred members. Getting even ten of them to agree to something is a miracle."

"What if all you needed was ten?"

Tonks narrowed her eyes at Cai and stepped into his office.

"Say more."

"You know St. Mungo's is running low on gold?"

"Everyone is," Tonks answered, gesturing around them. "Our department included."

"You might not know yet – they're delaying, reducing, or cancelling any potions or procedures unless they're life threatening."

"…okay?"

Cai rolled his eyes dramatically. "It means that if you're like me and you use potions for non-life-threatening problems, St. Mungo's isn't supplying them anymore. I've got to make them myself."

"Which is difficult…?"

"Extremely," Cai said seriously. "These are potions for my body, to look and feel the way I want it to. If I weren't an Auror, it'd be loads harder."

It took Tonks a moment to realize what Cai was saying. Her eyes widened as she let out a soft "oh."

"It's for your voice and beard, yeah?"

"Among other things," Cai replied, his voice cracking. "The Healers told me it's not considered 'life saving' anymore so I've got to do it myself."

"That's not fair!"

"I know, but it reminded me of others like me who need potions to be more comfortable or happy—"

"Like the Wolfsbane Potion."

"Exactly," Cai agreed, nodding. "I dunno if you've looked at any of the new tax regulations, but rumor has it that one of the reasons it's taking so long to implement some of them is due to some of the Wizengamot's members refusal to agree to fund certain parts of St. Mungo's."

"And probably the Ministry, too," Tonks said suddenly. "Which means—if they don't want to have to pay for werewolves, their potion, or services—"

"They get rid of werewolves." Cai stretched back and put his feet on his desk, looking remarkably smug.

"But why not go after the others?" Tonks slumped in the seat and tutted under her breath, ignoring the strange chill that ran up and down her spine, as if she'd been disillusioned. "It's not just werewolves…vampires, mermaids, centaurs, giants…even trolls. Why are they after the werewolves?"

Cai took his feet off his desk and laced his fingers together, frowning. "Easy target? Werewolves have been in the news since last summer."

"Start with werewolves, don't stop till it's anyone you don't like," Tonks murmured, as Cai nodded. "If you're going to pay taxes, you may as well get rid of anyone you don't want to benefit from your gold."

"That's my theory. Take Hogwarts…the Ministry partially funds the school, but that's in their best interest, to educate the next generation." A look of comprehension dawned on his face.

"What about the other departments in the Ministry?" he said, scrambling through Ministry memos. "Our department took a hit, but we weren't gutted like some of the others."

"Because we're useful," Tonks supplied. "Except me…because I won't shut up about werewolves."

"So they try to kill you," Cai added, "replace you with someone they can control—"

"And run the Ministry the way they want, with the people who support their interests."

Cai's smug expression returned. Tonks sat back, relieved they had a new lead, but knowing that the entirety of the Wizengamot couldn't be held at fault.

"What if it isn't the Wizengamot, Cai? What if it's someone outside, paying some of them off?" Tonks's questions led Cai's face to fall slightly. "I like where you're going with this—loads of our worst cases were motivated by money—but how do we narrow down the culprits?"

"We'd have to ask for help from the goblins. They're the only ones who know everyone's true wealth," Cai said heavily. "And get the Wizengamot's approval for some of it…they don't like it when we interfere with their relations with goblins…but getting them to cooperate will be—"

"A fucking nightmare? Even if the goblins agree to help us?"

"The goblins we might be able to convince…maybe tell them our suspicions with werewolves and other magical creatures."

"I'll talk to Bill," Tonks offered, snatching a free bit of parchment from Cai's desk. She conjured a quill and dipped it in an open inkpot, scribbling notes from the conversation. "He's working with them to figure out their role in tax collection and it's going as poorly as you might think."

"Even if we got past the goblins…what do we do about the Wizengamot? They won't take kindly to us marching into Gringotts to ask for records." Cai groaned and covered his face with his hands. "They're the judge, jury, and executioner. How're we going to get them all to agree to an investigation?"

Tonks tapped her fingers against the desk, thinking hard. Her eyes darted around the office, looking for ideas. From the corner of her eye, she saw a very old, faded poster from the first mass breakout of Azkaban.

"Maybe we don't," she said, sighing. "Maybe we ought to wait for them to make a mistake…or ask for forgiveness, instead of permission."

Cai raised his brow at her. "First, you're barking mad if you want to ask forgiveness from the people who might've tried to kill you. Second, we're going to wait? When has that ever worked for us?"

"Have you got a better idea?"

Cai nibbled on the end of his Sugar Quill with a pensive expression. "No…but what if we called another meeting? See if any of the others have a thought?"

"They're going to kill me if I make them sit in that room again," said Tonks, grimly. "I'll have a bloody riot on my hands."

"Riot it is," Cai said cheerfully. "I'll tell them. You go on to the meeting room. I'll make them show up."

Tonks relented and let Cai call another meeting. Perhaps, after all these weeks, they were finally onto something.

…

Tonks stared at herself in the mirror, dissatisfied with the sandy blonde she currently sported. Her skin was too pale, and she didn't have the energy to bring color to her cheeks. It was the day after the full moon, which saw no carnage or lycanthropic disasters, thankfully, but she'd spent it feeling as if she had the flu. With Hope feeling her usual full moon blues and Teddy at his usual, high-energy best, Tonks hadn't rested much. If it wasn't for her mother's presence in the Hogwarts quarters, she felt the full moon would've been worse.

She scrunched her nose and tried a walnut brown next.

It wasn't much better.

The door to their Hogwarts bedroom swung open. Remus, not yet dressed for their outing, moved around her to their small closet. "We're going to be in a public place," he reminded her, as he pulled out a pair of denim trousers and a maroon jumper.

"I know. Lewisham. Dodgy at night but fine for now."

"We can cancel," said Remus, observing Tonks go through various 'natural' shades for her hair. "She'd understand."

"I told her we'd go. We're going." The way Tonks spoke, she hoped Remus would know she wouldn't be persuaded against the idea.

Remus kissed her temple and returned to the living room, where Teddy and Hope were playing together with their pygmy puffs.

Tonks tried a choppy black bob. With the leather jacket she'd gotten from a secondhand shop in London, she thought she looked nice enough for the occasion, while still retaining some of her usual style. She gave herself one more look in the mirror, and now that she was satisfied with her appearance, she met Remus in the living room.

Her mother was already waiting for them, but to Tonks's surprise, she still wore her robes.

"Mum?" Tonks said, unsure. She looked to Remus, who sat on the floor with Teddy and Hope, evidently avoiding the matter. "Is something wrong?"

"I've decided to end things with my friend," Andromeda replied coolly, observing Puddles the pygmy puff 'clean' Teddy's ears with his tongue.

Tonks heard Remus take a quick breath; he had his back turned to Andromeda, and without looking up, he flicked his wand at some of Teddy's toys, making them dance. Teddy and Hope were easily mesmerized by the show; it was clear Remus was intent on escaping the conversation.

"Err…why?" Tonks hedged. She was relieved to hear the news, but she knew her mother well enough to know she wasn't happy about it.

"It's too hard, being with a Muggle," Andromeda answered, her eyes locked on the scene playing out on the floor.

Tonks stuffed her hands in her pockets and mumbled, "It doesn't have to be?"

"Nymphadora, I know what I'm doing. It was never reasonable for me to get involved with a Muggle."

"He…" Tonks swallowed her discomfort and pressed on, "he made you happy."

"Yes, but my family is more important."

Tonks had the sinking feeling her mother had expressed that sentiment before. Though she wanted to meet her gaze, Andromeda had her lips set in a tight line, watching Teddy and Hope intensely. The children giggled at the antics of their toys, animated through Remus's magic.

"Mum, can we talk about this in your room?"

"I'm perfectly fine where I am. You can change out of those clothes you're wearing."

Tonks looked down at Remus. He was casting a new charm on the toys, making them sing and dance, and taking no part in the room's obvious tension.

Andromeda summoned a book from the nearest bookcase and opened it, making no other comment towards Tonks or about her breakup. Seeing no other option, Tonks returned to her bedroom to change.

She flopped backward on her bed and groaned. As horrid as she found the idea of meeting her mother's boyfriend, it was a better option than staying inside the castle. It had been a month since the massacre at the DMLE; the Auror department finally had a few leads, but their investigation was pending while the Wizengamot and the goblins reluctantly cooperated with the Aurors' requests. In all that time, Tonks had only been to and from the Ministry; Remus, Teddy, and Hope hadn't left Hogwarts at all. Only Andromeda was lucky enough to take brief outings.

Teddy and Hope were delighted with Hogwarts. The students were just as enthusiastic to have the Lupins' young children around; though Andromeda watched Teddy and Hope while Remus and Tonks worked, she always had a barrage of 'helpers,' especially Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. Teddy, once he got past his initial shyness, realized he could have hundreds of new best friends. Hope was warier of the new friends but seemed to have made favorites among the students.

If Remus minded the change in scenery, he didn't say anything about it. Tonks knew he wasn't completely at ease—not while they didn't know who was behind the attacks—yet he was nothing but agreeable and positive with their housing. He was annoyingly attentive and guilty when he discovered that Tonks had some symptoms tied to the scratch she'd sustained, but she snapped and reminded him that it wasn't his doing and she was just fine, thank you very much.

It tipped her off to the mood swings that the full moon brought upon her, in addition to the flu-like symptoms. She wasn't thrilled with this addition to her life—she hated being unable to change something about her body—but she kept her frustration to herself. She reminded herself that if they were in their own home, away from Hogwarts and the watchful gaze of her mother, she'd be more comfortable.

Andromeda hadn't said much regarding her move to Hogwarts. Tonks had suggested hiring students to watch Teddy and Hope during the workday, but Remus decided to take up Andromeda's offer to come with them. He claimed it had to do with his trust in Andromeda to take care of the children, but Tonks suspected it was another way to keep her mother safe.

Tonks was irritated with their situation. She felt like a child, trapped in the castle, under her mother's watchful eyes, and within the walls of her office. She felt she was being watched wherever she went. The thought made her cringe: it wasn't as if she had a Tracking Charm placed on her body. What she felt was nowhere near as real or uncomfortable as the charm on Remus.

"Can I come in?"

Tonks sat up and found Remus in the doorway.

"Your mum's reading a story to the kids."

Tonks opened her arms to him, yearning for comfort. "Yeah, come in."

Remus wrapped his arms around her and held her head to his chest.

"How do you feel?"

"About mum?"

"Anything," Remus said, rubbing her back gently. "I want to know how you are."

Tonks ignored her exhaustion, not wanting to burden him with it. "D'you think it's our fault? That mum isn't with her…friend…anymore?"

Remus kissed the top of her head. "I'm certain we haven't made it easier. Our family isn't…" He paused, let go, and sat down next to her. Tonks could almost hear his thoughts as he tempered them from outright shame to lighter guilt.

"Our family isn't typical, even for wizards. Your mother made her decision." Remus took Tonks's hand and rubbed his thumb on the back of it. "You get your stubbornness from her, you know."

Tonks exhaled softly. "I know."

"It's good nothing happened last night…with the others like me."

"I've got a feeling that with our investigation underway," Tonks replied, shrugging out of her jacket, "whoever's at fault is laying low. Not to mention all the werewolves who're scared shitless of getting killed…they probably all hid themselves before the full moon."

"Almost certainly," Remus agreed. He brushed back hair from her face and held her cheek against his palm. "I know you were looking forward to going out today. It's not the same, but would you care to explore the castle with me?"

She titled her head, perplexed by his suggestion. "What, and pretend we're teenagers?" She blinked at him, baffled at the sudden change in topic.

He gave her a nervous smile. "I have the Map and we've got the afternoon to ourselves."

"Is this something you really want to do," Tonks said quietly, unsure if she'd regret her words, "or do you not want to think about the werewolf stuff?"

He chuckled and held her closer. "Can't it be both? I know you're unhappy here. I've tried to make the most of it, myself, but I miss our home."

"In that case…"

Tonks captured his lips with hers and breathily agreed to a romp somewhere in the castle. If she was going to be made to feel like a teenager, stuck within Hogwarts, she was going to make the most of it and leave her adult responsibilities behind.

…

Tonks tapped her foot impatiently against the chair outside of the Minister's office. Kingsley was due any minute and she didn't want him derailed by any other project or memo before he saw her.

It was the first of March—the day the Wizengamot would vote on the initial set of amendments to the new tax regulations—and Tonks had a plan to disrupt their agenda.

As predicted, Kingsley walked out of the lift, two minutes past seven. His face fell when he saw her mop of neon green hair, mischievous grin, and the stack of documents on the floor that reached up to her knees.

"Good morning, Minister," she chirped. "How about an early morning meeting to get your day going?"

He frowned. "How long have you been here?"

"My coffee's just kicking in," she replied, looking down at her watch. "About twenty minutes, I'd say."

He opened the door to his office and gestured for her to go in.

"This'd better be good," said Kingsley, in his deep, baritone voice. "I've got loads to do before the Wizengamot meets."

"I'm well aware, Kings, and it's why I'm here." Tonks plonked into an empty chair across from the Minister's desk, levitating the stack of paperwork in front of her. It landed with a thud on the handsome, mahogany surface and only a few loose papers flew away.

"Tax amendments?" he said, puzzled, as he picked up the parchment that had fallen to the floor. "From the Auror department?"

Tonks yawned widely and nodded. "Read through it. Trust me…us…we think we've got leads."

She watched as Kingsley's eyes darted through the first few pages.

It had taken the better part of two weeks to complete, as well as calling in favors from those connected to a few key Wizengamot members, but the Aurors in charge of the werewolf massacre case had devised a means to identify potential culprits. With the help of others in the DMLE, they proposed rewriting tax regulations to benefit the least advantaged in the magical world.

They proposed budget cuts to every Ministry department and non-vital research or healing programs at St. Mungo's. Instead, those funds would go to Werewolf Support Services, the Goblin and Centaur Liaison Offices, and Muggle outreach projects. Within the proposed amendments were smaller corollaries, each meant to push buttons one way or another. Tonks and her investigative team wanted to sow chaos within the Wizengamot and make them re-evaluate recent decisions.

"You want me to propose all these amendments to the Wizengamot?" Kingsley said blankly, reading through Tonks's proposal. "None will pass."

"I know they won't pass," Tonks replied steadily. "I need you to do me a favor."

Kingsley raised a brow at her. "Go on," he said, with an air of quiet exasperation.

"I'm asking you to see who reacts to each of these amendments. I want their names, objections, support, anything you can give me to help us find whoever was responsible for killing all those werewolves and DMLE workers."

Kingsley sat back in his chair, brought his fingertips together, and stretched his hands out.

"I think we ought to speak to Hermione Granger."

"What?"

"She came to me yesterday with a distinctive suggestion." Kingsley swished his wand in an arc around his file cabinet. Three drawers came open and a few stacks came flying out, landing neatly in front of Tonks. The top sheet was emblazoned with the title "REORGANIZING THE MINISTRY: A PROPOSAL."

"She wants to reorganize the Ministry?" said Tonks, flipping through the sheets, all written in tiny print. "Re-name some departments, too, I see."

"I told her to wait," said Kingsley, eyeing the roll of parchment to his right. "It seems the three of us should meet. I had a proposal written to allow modifications to the Wizengamot's membership."

"And you thought that would pass?"

"You'd be surprised to learn the Wizengamot hasn't always been like this."

Tonks leaned forward. "What do you mean?"

A sharp rap at the door interrupted them. The new Junior Assistant to the Minister, a plucky wizard with golden curls, had an important message for Kingsley.

"Ah, thank you, Jones," Kingsley said, to the overeager assistant. "Give me a few minutes—I've got to finish up with the Head Auror." Jones looked put out but he slipped out of the office as asked.

Tonks waited eagerly, anxious to know what Kingsley meant regarding the Wizengamot.

"I don't have time to get into the issues with the Wizengamot," he said, deflating Tonks's mood instantly. "Not before I meet with them. I've just got news that might brighten your day."

Kingsley scribbled his signature on a few lines, illuminating parts of the document in golden ink; whatever he'd signed, it was magically binding. He then handed her the document he'd just signed, and her mood turned around again, seeing the names on the memo.

"Both of them are in the Book of Acceptance," Kingsley confirmed, as Tonks read through McGonagall's letter of recommendation. "If Mrs. Wakefield is willing to take on two witches, I should be happy to see her do so."

Tonks exhaled through her lips, relieved beyond words.

"This wasn't what I came in for," she said, grinning, "but I'll take what I can get." Kingsley was already putting away the tax amendments, Hermione's proposal, and his mysterious Wizengamot proposition.

"Kings, I know you've got to go. I want to tell Lottie she's got the girls, but you promise we'll meet about all this?"

Kingsley agreed and ushered her out of his office. With the bit of good news to fuel her, she decided to make an unplanned outing. She rushed to the Floo and tossed powder inside, calling out the Wakefield home when the flames turned emerald.

"Lottie!" Tonks called out, getting a mouthful of ash in the process. Her violent coughing brought Lottie to the living room from the kitchen.

"Tonks, what are you doing here?" Lottie removed her oven mitts and apron, throwing them across a worn sofa as she patted Tonks's back.

"Good news," Tonks coughed, still managing to grin. She dusted off the soot from her robes and handed the documents over. "The adoption was approved by the Minister of Magic himself, not ten minutes ago."

A huge smile formed on Lottie's face. "The girls…they're really mine?"

Tonks nodded enthusiastically. "It's up to you or them if you want to change their surname," she elaborated, seeing Lottie's eyebrows knit when they reached the blank spaces on the adoption papers. "Congratulations."

Tonks beamed, despite the new snag in her investigation. The morning hadn't gone as planned, but she had at least one bit of good news to bring to her family later that day.

The investigation would have to hold off a little while longer.