The following week is rather quiet. They spend every single minute together, enjoying the new closeness, the touch, the whispered words at the brim of sleep. Sometimes Tonks wakes up in the middle of the night and gazes at his silent face, still not able to believe her luck.
After the first few nights she doesn't get very much sleep, though. As soon as she hears his breath grow slow and regular, she slips out of the bed and down into the kitchen and waves her wand lazily in the direction of his second-best tea pot which kindly agrees to serve some strangely flavoured Earl Grey. She sits in front of the steaming mug, silently speculating, silently planning, before she can see the road she has to take now.
There are still a few imponderables. But she knows who to ask for advice, and the person in question will be able to show her the next step. It is dangerous, she knows it with grim clarity. She might be discovered, and by the wrong people… but she is not ready to waste a single thought on this particular danger. She has mustered all her courage to break through the barriers between them, and she is not willing to give up the treasure she has just gained.
The first night of August is unusually cool this year, and Professor McGonagall has lit a small fire in the fireplace of the headmaster's study… luckily for Tonks who raises her head out of the flames a few minutes past midnight.
She has a moment to watch her former teacher unnoticed; in the last few months she has understood her better than she ever did before. Many of the Gryffindors who have been shriveling under her iron gaze would be very surprised if they had any idea of her painful doubts.
"Minerva…?"
The interim headmistress jumps slightly and drops her quill; ink splashes over the parchment on the desk and with an impatient flick of her wand she removes the mess. When she recognizes her unexpected guest, she gives an exasperated snort.
"Have you any idea what time it is?"
"I'm sorry, Professor," Tonks says, instantly slipping back into the role she has been accustomed to for many years. The fact that they are both members of the Order has seemingly not been able to change a single iota of her long-trained behavior. "I fear I need your help."
She musters her courage and starts to explain; McGonagall listens with a deep, vertical fold above her nose, the sharp cat eyes behind the tortoise shell glasses never moving from Tonks' face. When Tonks has finished her scrupulously prepared speech, there is a long moment of heavy silence.
"You must first find out where it is hidden," Minerva finally says. "but that should be no problem. I only wish we wouldn't have to bother Potter with this. Ah well… I suppose we have no choice. And after you've found it, you will need further assistance. If I remember correctly, this was not your favorite subject."
There is no way to deny what is so obviously true. Tonks gives a slightly ironic smile. "I am sure you have someone in mind."
Minerva rubs her brow as if trying to get rid of a piercing headache and sighs. "I have indeed," she says. "Hermione Granger is exactly the right choice – she already managed in her second year what you failed to achieve in your seventh. You should be able to meet her in the Burrow. And please come back as soon as you can tell me where to look."
The last thing Tonks sees of the headmaster's study that night is Dumbledore's portrait behind McGonagall's right shoulder; it opens its eyes just as she's about to sink back into the fire. All the time while she stifles the flames in Remus' small kitchen fireplace, while she straightens her aching back and silently walks up the stairs into the bedroom, the small, humorous smile she saw on its face fills her with infinite sadness.---
That next morning is actually the first time since her arrival that Remus leaves the house. He offers no particular reason, he just tells her he feels the need for a long walk. Tonks is rather sure that he wants to take a breath of fresh air as long as the change hasn't overcome him… and that he needs some time alone and is both too tactful and too kind to tell her.
Still nine more days until the moon is full.
Tonks is much too busy to feel neglected or to bear him a grudge. Barely half an hour after his departure she Apparates in Mrs. Weasley's vegetable garden, nearly tangling herself in the neat row of bean poles. Molly is just plucking fresh salad for lunch, and Tonks' sudden appearance startles her so much that her basket takes unexpected flight and sails through the air like a wicker projectile, barely missing Tonks' head and strewing her shoulders with lamb's lettuce.
"Hello, Molly." Tonks smiles apologetically, brushing small, green leaves from her blouse. "I'm really sorry… I didn't mean to scare you." She cuts off the inevitable invitation to tea, biscuits and a comfortable talk by touching the elder woman's shoulder. "Is Harry here?"
Molly peers up at her with curious eyes.
"I haven't seen him since breakfast," she says. "He's terribly quiet these days… and he doesn't eat enough." She gives a rather unhappy sigh. "He reminds me of a magical door someone has sealed with at least seven unbreakable spells."
Tonks feels the corners of her mouth curl upwards, but it is no happy smile either.
"If he keeps the door closed of his own accord, you should not try to force your way through," she gently says. "He has endured more loss, anguish and pain than anyone should. There is no use in putting him under pressure… even if you do it for his own good, and out of love."
Molly has collected the last scattered lamb's lettuce and Tonks follows her as she heads back to the house. "I will have to go back soon… where is Hermione?"
"In Ginny's room." The curiosity in Molly's eyes has reached a new height. "Would you mind telling me what…"
"Not today." Tonks leans down and spontaneously kisses Molly's cheek, inhaling the reassuring scent of tasty food, herbs and fresh laundry that seems to be a part of her. She smells of boisterous, noisy meals in the company of loved ones, of stories that always end with a "happily-ever-after"… it is the scent of a home every single child in the world would long for. "Wait until the wedding is over. Then I shall snatch a bottle of wine from Arthur's cellar, we will sit until deep into the night and I will tell you everything you ever wanted to know about me."
"Everything?" Molly cocks her head and a dimple appears where Tonks' lips have just touched her skin.
"Everything." It is a solemn promise, and a cheap price for what she hopes to achieve today.
She takes the winding stairs with fast steps and finally reaches the small room Hermione shares with Ginny during the holidays. As expected, Hermione is curled up in an old rocking chair, her nose in a book.
Without many preliminaries Tonks sits down cross-legged on the carpet in front of the rocking chair and asks her first question. For a moment Hermione is completely silent, then she closes the book with a deep frown.
"There's no need to ask Harry," she says quietly, "he told me where he left it. What do you want that cursed, troublemaking thing for?"
Tonks tell her what she wants that cursed, troublemaking thing for, and she also tells her what Miss McGonagall said to her last night. Hermione's eyebrows rise until they nearly vanish under her thick hair; the frown is first replaced by a proud smile and then by sudden laughter. Tonks peers up at her with a certain surprise, and Hermione returns the gaze with shining eyes.
"We won't have to bother Professor McGonagall," she exclaims with a jubilant voice. "You know, I went to Flourish and Blotts last week and bought Damocles Belby's book. And he was proud and persnickety enough to explain every detail… though this will be the most difficult thing I've ever done, and I really don't know if…" She catches Tonks' pleading gaze and straightens her back. "And I was wrong. I will most certainly need Professor McGonagall's help. I doubt we'll get the pulverized claw of a Macedonian harpy anywhere in Diagon Alley... but I know where she can find it."