New chapter! :) Hope everyone is having a Holly Jolly Christmas, and Happy Holiday's, no matter what you celebrate. No Remus or Sirius in this chap, but hopefully its still about any really bad mistakes, punctuation or otherwise, I always think I catch them and then I go back and read and bam! There they are. As always I do not own anything recognizable.

Number 12,Grimmauld place was certainly aptly named, she thought not for the first time. Throughout her life she'd heard stories about it, her mother had even lived there for a time, she and both of her sisters. Sirius, of course, had grown up in its confines until his escape to live with the Potters. He'd always lamented its utter putridity, and Tonks found that she couldn't disagree, although she did think the house itself could actually be something if taken care of properly.

She had been surprised and she knew Remus was even more so, when Sirius had suggested that the newly constructed order use it as its base of operations. Of course this had come after Dumbledore had forbidden him from any type of fieldwork, and she knew that he had only been trying to contribute something. It was chafing for a man so full of action to know that he would not be able to really do anything. The offer of the house at least was something her convict cousin could do.

Still, she noticed the dark look that had come into his eyes, the melancholy and anger. She'd have to keep an eye on him and make sure Remus did the same.

"You're bein obvious,"

She smirked slightly at the sound of that voice, although it still brought her relief to hear it.

"Wotcher. Yeah, because its not anymore obvious with two people standing here staring at a "brick wall,'" she snarked back. "Really Mad eye, I'd think you would stand out more than me."

He huffed, and she knew his eye was whirling to glare at her. She raised one brow, fuchsia to match her hair, and smiled innocently up at him. "I was just contemplating going in there and having my dear old great aunt yell at me from her beautiful portrait. I would love to cap off my day with taunts about my blood purity and half-blood half-breed filth of a husband."

Moody didn't comment, but she didn't miss the slight up curl of his lips. She was glad to see him up and about and back to his gruff paranoid ways. She had been beyond worried when she'd found out he'd been held in a trunk for almost a year and impersonated by Barty Crouch Jr. She'd almost cried when she'd gone to see him, but managed to hold it in, knowing that he would not want her tears. He'd assured her he was fine and would be back on his feet in no time and here he was true to his word. Still, she knew him well after so many years and she knew it had affected him more than he would ever say.

"I've got something that could delay that encounter girl, if your up to it," he indicated with a tilt of his head for her to follow him and clunked off, so it would not appear as if they were staring at the wall as she'd joked, she assumed. No need to arouse the Muggles suspicions or anyone else's who might be watching for that matter.

Tonks followed, more than slightly curious as to what he could want to talk about. He stopped by a bus bench, just off the street, and sat down indicating for her to do so as well, with a tilt of his head. It was evening, just past suppertime, and the summer air hung like smog, heavy and repressive.

"What do you think of Shakelbolt?"

The question seemed ,to her, to come out of nowhere and it certainly wasn't what she would have expected. "He's alright, isn't he? I mean, we've always got on."

Moody's eye was whirling, as he fixed his hard, direct gaze on her, but she was past finding him intimidating. Rolling her eyes, she crossed her legs and returned his look. "He's a damn good Auror, he's taught me a lot over the years. He's loyal, but logical, never one to jump to conclusions. He's quiet, observant, he sees far more than anyone gives him credit for. Everyone holds in high regard, scrimgeour trusts him more than even Robbards and that's saying something." She smiled slightly, "Why the character assessment Mad eye?"

Moody extracted his flask from his long coat, sniffed the contents and apparently finding the contents to be as described on the tin, took a long swig before whipping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I want ya to talk to him. Feel him out, but don't be obvious; get him alone somewhere and see what his thoughts are."

She nodded. "You want me to recruit him to the Order? Maybe it would be better if Arthur talked to him, I mean he would be far more believable then me I would think. King's always seemed to suspect me of something, as well as we've gotten on."

He grunted, "if he suspects ya of anything Nymphadora, its because you've given him reason. No, it'll be better coming from you, just give him the facts, no dramatics."

Tonks sighed and stood. "I'll go now then, yeah? King's supposed to be working the night. Maybe I can catch him."

She started to walk away, ready to apparate, when Moody's voice stopped her.

"Don't mention anything about Sirius, Nymphadora. Better for him not to know yet, just in case."

She saluted, ignoring his look at the action. "Course, I'm not an idiot Mad eye, contrary to popular belief." Then she turned on the spot and was gone with a crack, knowing that she had just left him grumbling about constant vigilance and people who didn't look before they apparated.

She had to weave her way through the rush of ministry employees calling it a day, many obviously eager to escape their public serventesqe jobs for the few hours until they had to step into the ministries halls again. As a consequence of this mass exodus though, the lifts going up were empty.

She quickly jabbed the correct button, trying in vain to marshal her thoughts. "Merlin' s saggy you no what's, why the bloody hell did he have to ask me to do this?" she muttered to herself. "I can just see it now," she thought, "Wotcher King, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to join a secret organization…now put that wand away, I'm not a terrorist." She rolled her eyes and sighed as the clinically cheerful disconnected voice announced her floor.

The Auror offices were all but empty, only a few of her colleagues were in their cubicles and she knew that there were only a handful of others out working cases and complaints. It was a stark contrast, she mused, to the last time Voldemort had been kicking around. Back then; the night shift was just as packed as the day, if not more so. It was disheartening to say the least.

"Sometimes I really hate this job," she found herself muttering as she strode purposefully down the narrow hall between offices.

"Don't let Robbards here you say that," said a slow, deep easy voice from behind her, "That's considered derogatory against the ministry Auror Tonks; eligible for two weeks suspension."

She whipped around, pushing her hair out of her eyes. His expression was serious, but she could see the slight glint in his eye that told her he was joking. "Kingsley, I was just about to head to your office." She replied, deciding to cut to the chase. Moody would definitely not give her points for finesse or delivery, but if he wanted this handled delicately he really should have asked someone else.

"Oh? Well, its good you caught me, I was just going to head out, got a tip on Black."

She fell in behind him as he started walking in the direction she had just come from. "Really? Where abouts?" she asked truly curious.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, "Some old punter says he saw him in a bar on Charring Cross road. He was adamant he talk to me tonight. Of course, it will probably turn out to be another dead end. Last week, I got word he was at a Buddhist temple in Sri Lanka. Now if I were Black, I'd definitely not be frequenting Charring Cross road."

Tonks resisted the urge to laugh. Sirius would love to go to a bar on Charring Cross road; he'd love to go anywhere that wasn't his mother's house. But a Buddhist temple? Now that was truly original. She wondered who had started that one. Still, it was so far away from the truth, that Sirius was hiding in his own house in London and probably sulking with his Hippogriff, a that very moment, that no one would ever suspect.

"Charring Cross isn't that far. We should walk."

Kingsley chuckled, "We?"

They had reached the lifts and as the golden grills opened, she nodded. "Yeah, I want to talk to you bout something."

She expected him to suggest they talk later, after all she wasn't supposed to be anywhere near the hunt for Sirius Black, nor was she even on the clock. Instead he nodded.

"Sure. It's a nice night for a walk."

Starting out she wasn't really sure what to say, but she knew she didn't have a lot of time. Finally, she let out a sigh and decided to just get it out. I'm just going to bugger it up anyway, might as well get it over with, she thought.

"What do you think about all this stuff, about Voldemort?"

If her question surprised him, he gave no indication. "Well that's the thing isn't it? According to the Minister, there is no "stuff" with Voldemort. Just the ramblings of an addled brained attention seeking kid."

Tonks rolled her eyes, "Sure. But what do you think? I'm not trying to trap you here or anything King, I want to know. Because let me tell you, I believe that addled brained kid; I'd take his word over Fudge's any day." She kept her voice low, her tone casual. To the observer they could have been talking about the weather.

"Should you be telling me this? I could just turn right around and tell Scrimgeour."

She shrugged, "Yeah, but somehow I doubt you would. It's not your style. Now, I've shown you mine…" she trailed off.

"And now its my turn to share?" he shook his head. They were nearing Charring Cross and she knew they didn't have much time left.

"I like to think that I'm observant, a good judge of character. I like to think its part of why I'm so good at my job. I know how the ministry works Tonks, I know how to play the game and how to stay in it; you need to shift with the way the tides going. As long as you do that, well no one notices you noticing things, doing things out of character. You always were good at pretending, a lot better then anyone I've seen in years, so I'm going to take your word now that your not playing me. What do I think?" They stopped walking having reached their destination.

"I think Fudge is nervous, no matter what he says. I've heard some of the things he's been saying about Dumbledore and there are many things I can believe, you could tell me that Sirius Black was having tea with the queen and I'd be more likely to believe that over Albus Dumbledore making up stories. Now Potter, I can't say. It's hard to tell what's true about that kid and what's not. It's hard to tell if what they say about recent disappearances is true either. But I know you, Tonks, and I know the people you know. I know that Mad eye saw something in you that many would have overlooked. If you tell me you believe Potter, then I believe you. Of course none of that does any good for either of us. Its all talk."

Tonks repressed a smile. He knew. She knew, instinctively that he did and probably wouldn't be the least surprised at what she was going to ask him next.

"What if it wasn't though? What if I told you that there are people doing something, even as we speak?"

Kingsley fixed his direct gaze on her, "I'd say I'd like to meet these people."

She nodded, the hand that had been clasped around her wand relaxing. "Got any plans for tomorrow night?"

"Thought I might go out, maybe get a drink at the Leaky, I'm working a double shift, could use the break. I'll probably head there right after shift change" he replied mildly.

"Hmm. Well I've got to get going King. But thanks for the talk, I hope you find what your looking for in there," she said with a tilt of her head towards the bar.

"Somehow I doubt it," he returned. "I'll be seeing you, Auror Tonks." With a nod he entered the bar leaving her on the sidewalk.

Moody will be pleased, she thought as she strode away at a casual pace. Maybe I didn't bugger it after all. With that thought she slipped into an alley and after a quick cursory glance turned on the spot, the sound resounding after hardly noticeable on the busy London road.