Tonks was still seething as she walked home, she couldn't believe the nerve of Max. Calling her all the time and jeopardising her mission. Her past mistakes did not dictate her future.

No matter what she said to herself she couldn't shake that nagging feeling in the back of her head. It told her that something very bad was going to happen. She pushed it into the back of her mind and looked at her reflection in a parked cars window.

She was nothing like her former self. Her glossy dark brown hair fell into her face, her simple black tank top and black lace skirt just slightly clung to her curves but was nothing like her skin tight leather costumes of what now seemed like a distant past. She wondered if Remus had seen her in her old look he might like her better? It was a purely superficial thought she wanted to entertain, if anything he probably would take her less seriously.

She gave a half hearted croak of laughter, trying awkwardly to trick herself into smiling. He was the first man that didn't find her appealing. This time it wasn't all about her breasts or her butt, he just didn't like her. She couldn't help but feel disheartened. Yeah, they'd had their talks, always with the excuses. He was too poor, too old, too whatever. She just wanted to slap him.

She'd gotten to the point where it hurt to look at him anymore and know once this would be all over she'd fall back in with the same crowds, the same parties, the whirlwind of bottomless shot glasses and disco lights. She'd be back in the same endless rut, until the day she was old and boring and wanted someone who would keep her warm at night and would cook for her. She knew if she went back she'd eventually end up like one of those weird cat ladies with over twenty cats who named them after American snack foods who yelled like a banshee if they weren't fed properly. She shivered. Funny thing was that it wasn't even cold.

She kept walking; another twenty minutes and she'd be back at the Burrow. She didn't not like being there, when she left she realised how previously alien that warm fuzzy feeling of having a family, somewhere where you will always belong and be loved and can go back to, was to her. Especially with Remus there. She could feel they could make a place warm, have a family, be happy and in love – but none the less, unfortunately for her it took two to tango so to speak.

She smoothed her hair back as she saw the outline of the burrow. Something was odd, She realised the only light on was in the kitchen. Her gut wrenched, she understood something bad was going to happen. The nagging feeling overrode her self pity. They were never all in the same room as though something bad was happening. Her pace quickened. As she neared the house she began a light jog.

She stopped; slightly puffed and leaned against the post box as she looked towards to door she noticed extra brooms. One particular broom caught her attention. It had a black handle with a certain evil slimy little weeds initials carved into it. All she could think about or hear was the blood pounding against her skulls deafening her to all other sound. She closed her eyes and began that war of little voices in her head about her next course of action. She finally opened them and tried with all her might to collect herself and try very hard to walk into the Weasley household. She chickened out and turned, she slid into the dark of what at that movement seemed like a safe place and listened to Max's drawl echoing down to her new position underneath the window.

"So, in conclusion, is this really the kind of woman you'd like defending the only thing stopping us from complete inhalation, we only realised the allocation error a short time ago. We would have come sooner but really – you know. Technical errors and what not." He paused. She heard him clear his throat. He did that when he was nervous. "Anyway, Um, yes that concludes this briefing."

She heard the uncomfortable shuffling of the seats as the audience; presumably the Weasley's and Harry and Hermionie who now tried to absorb the horrible, but unfortunately true indiscretions and mistakes which would inevitably build up with stories Vodka, death and men who promised you the world if you promised them a blow job.

Harry must of raised his arm because Max called on him.

"Yes Harry, or err Mr Potter. Which ever you'd prefer?" She stifled a giggle; she could have sworn that she could feel Harry rolling his eyes.

"So is Tonks under arrest or something? Because if she's not I don't get the point. Ex assassin, bounty hunter, participant of promiscuous sex – whatever she was it doesn't matter now. What kind of organisation are you to make her change her entire identity and then blow her cover now for no apparent reason?"

She heard Max clear his throat again. She knew he was smoothing his hair back too. Another one of his nervous traits. He paced slowly back and forth near her window; Tonks felt the air of his walk on the top of her hair as he quickly turned to address the awaiting audience.

"You see, Harry, Ms. Nymphadora, or Tonks as you've taken to calling her is no apparent threat to you because of your untrained sympathetic eye. You seem to have created some sort of bond with her, although alien to me how she gained your trust, all your trust it seems, is that she was once one of the most dangerous women on this earth. She dealt with vampires, werewolves – no offence Mr. Lupin, merpeople, death eaters and well basically anything other possible threat you can think of. " Max paused. Tonks tensed, she knew he was going to reveal what she'd done. Azkaban may of not been a friendly place but she understood that the many years of living on the edge, drink and men that played for fun had left her so detached that she could justify killing an innocent human being. She deserved to be there.

"Tonks was commissioned to do complete a special forces mission for the ministry around this time three years ago. Her target was BartemiusCrouch jnr. Tonks accepted her assignment willingly and was paid her usual fee; the dead line for the kill was set. Ms. Nymphadora was about to complete her mission but she understood that her mission was compromised by one Bertha Jorkins. She decided that because Ms. Jorkins has blown her cover she had to be initiated. Tonks completed her mission but was later convicted for accessory to murder."

"How does that work? Voldemort killer her, her ghost came out of his wand in that weird cage-wand-connect-last-people-it-come-to-life-thing in the graveyard!" Harry piped up.

"I said accessory to murder. Tonks decided that she needed to destroy the evidence that her cover was blown and being a Black she leaked the information to Voldermort. We decided on reasonable grounds the stress of the mission compromised her mental state." Max hated being questioned. Tonks shuddered again, she felt like crying. She really wanted a hug.

She heard someone get up. By the sound of the swish of the long coat and the familiar click of leather lace ups she knew it was Remus. He walked briskly towards Max and in one quick easy blow Remus punched Max square in the face, the crack of bone breaking and the blood splatter of Max's now broken nose although not that loud deafened Tonks. It was one of the many unexplained instances where Remus had taken to doing all that of a dutiful lover or admirer and still claiming that he was too old for love, or the werewolf thing would tear them apart. Every time she let herself believe that, another one of these instances occurred, to play with her heart strings yet again and give her hope that maybe one day, Remus and she would have a home like this, a family, a life together.

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