Chapter 3 - Who Would've Thought
Tonks awoke with a thundering headache, as though someone had struck her with a stunning spell. She blinked rapidly, trying to piece together the fragments of her thoughts. The dim light of the room made everything feel hazy, and she quickly realized she didn't recognize her surroundings. She was in a bedroom, but how had she gotten there? The scent of fresh linen lingered faintly in the air, mingling with the scent of something herbal, perhaps a lingering trace of the Pepper-Up Potion she must've taken last night.
She glanced around, her eyes landing on her suitcase, sitting by the door as if placed there deliberately. But she couldn't recall packing it, let alone bringing it here. The confusion only deepened the pounding in her head. With a groan, she tried to recollect what had happened the night before. The blurry memories flashed through her mind in fits and starts—drinking, laughing, talking… but nothing of substance.
And then, the crushing realization hit her. She had made a fool of herself. A deep flush spread across her face as she recalled how, in her drunken haze, she'd probably done something embarrassing. But the strangest thing was that she didn't feel nauseous. Normally, after a night of drinking, she'd be clutching her stomach, feeling like she might vomit at any moment. Yet, her stomach was calm, and she found that odd.
Suddenly, her mind snapped back into focus. Her meeting with Dumbledore! She glanced over at the clock beside the bed. Panic surged as she saw the time—she had only eight minutes until it started. Without a second thought, she leapt from the bed, her head spinning as she struggled to dress in a frenzy. She had to get to the meeting. Now.
She bolted out of the Three Broomsticks, her footsteps echoing in the hallway as she hurried past the employees, who glanced at her with a mix of curiosity and judgment. The strange stares only heightened her sense of humiliation. What had she done last night to make them look at her like that? She couldn't remember, but the thought of dwelling on it made her stomach churn.
Trying to shake off the embarrassment, she focused on the task ahead. She wasn't about to be late for another meeting, especially with Dumbledore. She knew the secret passageway into Hogwarts from Honeydukes' cellar and was inside the castle in less than four minutes. Her heart raced as she reached Dumbledore's office—just one minute late, a personal best for her.
She ran up the gargoyle steps and barged into the room, startling everyone inside. Dawlish, Proudfoot, and Savage were already gathered, all casting disappointed looks her way. "I'm so sorry I'm late, Dumbledore," Tonks blurted, panting, as she quickly joined the others.
"Not to worry, dear. We were just about to start." Dumbledore's voice was calm, warm, as always. His twinkling blue eyes settled on her with an understanding that she didn't deserve, but she appreciated. "Now that everyone is here, I'd like to welcome you to this year at Hogwarts. For the next nine months, you'll be staying at the Three Broomsticks. Breakfast and dinner will be provided at the Great Hall or in Hogsmeade, paid by the school." He casually plucked a lemon drop from the bowl on his desk and popped it into his mouth. "Lemon Drop?" he offered to the Aurors, but no one took him up on it. "Now, logically, we all know the students will be arriving today. I have a task specifically for you all. Dawlish, I want you to check the bags and students as they come onto the grounds. Proudfoot, you'll guard the front door as they enter. Savage, I need you to keep an eye on the Great Hall. And Tonks, you'll monitor the students at the train station. Any questions?"
Everyone shook their heads.
"Excellent. I'll send an owl once I've finalized your permanent assignments. I've placed powerful enchantments around Hogwarts, and only the professors will have access to its doors. Should you need entry, you must contact one of them or myself." He paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping over them. "Minister Scrimgeour wants you all to keep an eye on things, of course," he added with a wry smile. "But we all know the true reason behind it. So off you go."
Tonks quickly turned to leave, but just as she reached the door, Dumbledore's voice stopped her. "Nymphadora, may I have a word?"
"Of course, sir." Her voice was tinged with uncertainty as she turned back, her mind already racing through the possibilities of what he might want.
Once the others had filed out and the door closed behind them, Dumbledore gave her a knowing smile. "I see the Pepper-Up Potion worked," he said, his eyes twinkling. "I almost thought you weren't going to make it."
Tonks's face flushed bright red, and she fumbled for a response. "I... don't remember much of last night," she muttered, mortified.
Dumbledore chuckled softly, his tone warm and reassuring. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Nymphadora. We've all been there at some point."
Her embarrassment deepened, but she couldn't help but ask, "Sir, what do you mean by 'Pepper-Up Potion'?" Her confusion was evident, and Dumbledore's calm demeanor only added to her unease.
"Rosmerta sent me a Patronus, explaining that you needed help getting to bed and something for your morning recovery," Dumbledore explained, a slight chuckle in his voice. "Naturally, I called upon Severus for assistance."
Tonks froze. Snape? Of all people, it was Severus Snape who had helped her? She was speechless. The idea was so completely unexpected that she almost couldn't believe it.
"Rosmerta informed me of your… state," Dumbledore continued, noticing her stunned silence. "I trust he took care of you."
Tonks barely nodded, still processing the absurdity of it all. Snape, her potions master, always so cold and unapproachable, had somehow been the one to take care of her when she was at her lowest. She couldn't fathom why he would help her, but she couldn't deny the strange sense of gratitude that tugged at her.
"I called you back because we have an Order meeting in three days," Dumbledore said, shifting the conversation. "It will be held here at midnight."
"How am I going to get away from the Aurors, sir?" Tonks asked, a hint of anxiety creeping into her voice. "It'll look suspicious if I'm sneaking around at that hour."
"You'll have no trouble, Nymphadora," Dumbledore said with a reassuring smile. "As it happens, your duty will be patrolling the castle at night. During the day, you will rest or patrol Hogsmeade. It's perfect, really."
Tonks felt a strange sense of relief. At least she wouldn't have to worry about her cover being blown. "Sounds good, Professor," she said, her voice more confident now. "Will anyone else be patrolling with me?"
"Argus and Severus patrol the halls at night," Dumbledore explained. "They usually don't need additional assistance, but the Ministry insisted that an Auror be assigned to patrol the halls. Naturally, I chose you."
Tonks raised an eyebrow, a wry smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I'm honored, sir." She could think of a million reasons why this wasn't an ideal assignment, but she said nothing more.
"Just one more thing," Dumbledore added, his tone turning more serious. "Keep an eye on Harry. He is, after all, the one Voldemort is after."
Tonks nodded gravely. "Understood, sir."
Before she could leave, Dumbledore's voice stopped her again. "Oh, and Nymphadora," he added thoughtfully.
"Yes, sir?" She turned back toward him.
"You may find that some people here understand what you're going through. If you wish to confide in someone, there are those who can relate." He gave her an enigmatic smile before sending her on her way.
Tonks shook her head, unsure of what to make of his words. As she left the office and made her way to the One-Eyed Witch passage, she couldn't shake the feeling that Dumbledore was somehow speaking from experience. And yet, despite the quiet empathy, she couldn't bring herself to take his advice.
She was relieved not to encounter Snape in the halls on her way out. She still couldn't bring herself to be thankful for his help. After all the years he'd made her life miserable, it felt strange to owe him anything.
As she reached the Three Broomsticks later, she resolved to apologize to Rosmerta. She owed her that much, at least. When she saw the woman wiping down the bar, Tonks gathered her courage. "I'm sorry for how I acted last night," she said quietly. "I don't usually behave that way."
Rosmerta looked up, her expression softening. "You look well considering your state last night," she said with a teasing grin. "And I've got to hand it to Severus—he makes a mean hangover cure."
Tonks flushed deeply but couldn't help but agree. "He sure does," she muttered, grateful that Rosmerta didn't press her further.
"You have nothing to be ashamed of," Rosmerta said kindly, cutting her off before she could say more. "We've all been there."
Tonks smiled gratefully but knew it was time to leave. "I have to patrol Hogsmeade station. I'll see you later."
Rosmerta waved as Tonks exited the bar, her thoughts tangled with everything that had happened—and everything that was yet to come.