[Kaleidoscope update] Marauding for the Cause
Another Kaleidoscope update that's been a long time coming... One of the drabbles I posted for my first-ever Remus/Tonks event at rt_challenge was a little post-Order-mission scene I called Marauding for the Cause. That piece made reference to some brilliant prank Tonks had pulled off, without ever saying what she'd done. I got a ton of supportive comments from people urging me to expand the piece and write the prank. I'd always meant to get back to that...and it only took six years, lol. Most of those original kind commenters have since left the fandom, but for what it's worth, here is a much-expanded and greatly restructured version of what's been labeled in my head all this time "The Caper Fic." ;)
Marauding for the Cause (3920 words | PG)
On an Order mission featuring a banshee lamp, a spur-of-the-moment prank, and high expectations all around, Tonks and Remus learn a fair amount about each other.
Chapter 3
Marauding for the Cause
“We’ll want Tonks for this one,” said Mad-Eye gruffly.
His voice held a hint of pride, as well, Tonks thought.
And she held to that thought, because it eased the sting when the basement kitchen at Grimmauld Place immediately filled with murmurs of Yes, naturally, easier for her.
She only sat up straighter, smiled brightly, and gave a brisk nod. “Right, then, I’m on it.”
“I think that’s a marvellous suggestion, Alastor,” said Dumbledore. “Nymphadora has many talents to offer the Order beyond her, shall we say, natural affinity for disguise.”
The Headmaster’s habitual blue twinkle was a little too shrewd for comfort just now.
She Metamorphosed away a blush-wondering if that meant she was a cheater, after all-and tipped Dumbledore a nod and a cheekier grin.
“I want backup, though,” Mad-Eye went on. His normal eye focussed on her for an instant, no doubt picking up on the crestfallen look that she had meant to suppress, because the corner of his mouth twisted into what, for him, was a sympathetic grin. “Not because it’s your first mission, lass. If Gibbon and his contact need to be followed, and they go off in different directions, we need someone for each of them.” He paused, scanning the faces gathered around the long table. “Lupin, you’re available tomorrow, aren’t you?”
Tonks let herself start to relax. She liked Remus. They’d been a team already once, hadn’t they?-dreaming up a prank to nudge Sirius out of a sulk last week.
Only, then she heard his reply.
“I’m available,” he said to Mad-Eye, “yes.”
But his voice was terse. Almost sharp, really. And Tonks saw that his mouth had tightened.
Well. So much for the camaraderie she’d thought they’d found.
It shouldn’t really matter. After all, she had only just met the man. But her heart sank a little, all the same. She had seen things-that kind smile of his, an unexpected spark of mischief-that she had rather thought might make him nice to have as a friend.
Tonks raised her chin higher and forced herself not to let the grin falter. She could do this. She would show them that she was a real asset to the Order, even if they all thought she just lazed about, changing her face for fun.
Except that when Remus actually caught Tonks’s eye, his smile warmed again. “I’d be honoured to stand backup on Tonks’s first mission.”
She tossed him a mock salute, taking a deep breath and letting it quietly out again. Whatever it was about Mad-Eye’s request that Remus hadn’t liked, at least it didn’t seem to be the prospect of partnering with her.
Or so she hoped.
~ * ~
Most of the Order dispersed after the meeting was adjourned, but Remus was glad to see Tonks stay behind to chat with Sirius. It was becoming clear that she had a knack for cheering her cousin up as little else could.
And tonight, in particular, he was glad to see Sirius making her laugh in return. Tonks was new, and itching to prove herself-and the Order as a whole had spent the meeting underestimating her and making assumptions, just because she was different.
Remus rather suspected he could guess how she felt.
He fetched the bottle of firewhisky from the deep cabinet where Sirius stashed it, dismantling the spells they used (at Molly’s insistence) to keep it twin-proof. He poured three glasses and slid two of them along the table toward the others.
“Cheers,” said Sirius, taking a healthy swallow.
“Ta, Remus.” Tonks sent him a smile, though there was still a slightly cautious edge to her expression.
“To our mission.” Remus raised his glass to Tonks before he took a sip and let it burn its way gently down his throat.
Tonks blinked at him for a moment, and then seemed to come to some decision. She straightened out of her slouch and wrapped both hands around her glass.
“I didn’t make Auror just because I can Metamorphose,” she said, with an intense expression that stood out all the more sharply against the whimsy of her lime-green hair and loose, faded plaid shirt. “I don’t want you to think that, if we’re going to be partners on this mission.”
“I know.” Remus met the dark gaze straight on. “Mad-Eye couldn’t wait to send an assignment your way. He’s very proud of you, you know. Talks all the time about what a brilliant Auror you are.”
Tonks brightened a little at that, and then she shrugged and looked away, slightly sheepish. “I suppose the Metamorphosing is useful, though, sometimes.”
“There is that,” said Remus, mildly. “Were you thinking of a disguise for the mission?”
“Yeah.” Her contagious grin came to life again. “If we’re staking out a second-hand shop, I thought maybe I would do something like this.”
She scrunched up her face in a look of deep concentration-and then her features moved, and when she looked back up at Remus and Sirius, she was a little old lady, with wrinkles and leathery skin and wispy grey hair.
Sirius hooted. “You look just like Great-Aunt Drusilla!”
“That’s brilliant.” Remus leaned toward her, looking at the fine mesh of wrinkles around her eyes. “I’d never guess it wasn’t real.”
Tonks smirked, and let her features melt back to what they’d been before, except that her hair ended up tangerine-coloured this time.
Remus found himself studying what seemed to be her usual face. Not a wrinkle to be seen-this was fascinating. “Can you just change any feature at all, any way you want?”
And suddenly the stiff wariness was back. “Mostly, yeah.”
Remus winced. “Sorry,” he said, raising his hands and sitting back in his chair. “It’s just that I’ve never met a Metamorphmagus before, and I couldn’t help wondering.”
“Go on,” said Tonks, looking weary now, and resuming her slouch. “Try me.”
But it wasn’t fun anymore. Remus berated himself, silently. He of all people should know better than to make an issue of what someone was, at the expense of who they were.
“No, no.” He took another sip of firewhisky and tried to smile an apology. “It’s really none of my business whether you can do, say, a pig snout for a nose.”
“A what?”
Tonks sat bolt upright again. But she wasn’t angry this time-her astonished eyebrows had vanished under her fringe, but the grin was back.
Sirius was sniggering, too. “Not what you expected, was it, peanut?” He nudged her with his elbow.
She nudged back, dark eyes dancing. “Not exactly, no, not with most gentlemen of my acquaintance.”
“Moony’s not like that,” Sirius pronounced, mock-solemn. “You don’t have to worry about him.”
“I’m not like what?” Remus looked from one cousin to the other, missing the joke.
“Never you mind,” said Sirius, sniggering again.
“I haven’t ever tried a pig snout,” Tonks mused, settling back into her chair. “But I like a challenge.” And there it was again-that conspiratorial smile that Remus remembered from the sock prank. Something warm sparked, deep in his chest.
Her nose stretched and grew.
And then Sirius, never one to be outdone, asked for rabbit ears. The rest of the evening only got sillier.
Remus couldn’t even begin to remember the last time he had laughed so much.
~ * ~
Tonks shifted a little-the wooden bench where they were perched, in a dingy little park across the street from the second-hand shop that Snape’s latest tip had led them to, was awfully hard. She’d been on plenty of miserable stake-outs in her capacity as an Auror, but that didn’t make this particular bench any easier on her backside.
Remus, beside her, was impressively still. Not a fidget to be seen.
“You’re good at this stake-out business. Maybe you should have been an Auror.” She turned her head to grin at him, keeping one eye on the entrance to the shop. “What do you do for a living, Remus?”
If she’d thought he was motionless before, that had nothing on how still he went now.
But she only had enough time to start wondering why she’d said the wrong thing when he smiled-it was a little forced, but it was a smile-and said, “I’m working full-time for the Order these days, actually.”
He wouldn’t quite meet her eyes.
“Oh, right,” said Tonks, quickly. “That’s good luck for the Order, then.”
“I wonder,” was all he said, but his smile eased a little.
Not a topic to pursue with him, obviously. Tonks turned back toward the second-hand shop, but now she kept one eye on Remus. She doubted he was giving all his time to the Order because he was independently wealthy; he was always impeccably neat, but there was no denying that his clothes were rather shabby. So maybe he simply didn’t have a job right now. That would explain why her question made him uncomfortable-and perhaps why he’d been irritated when Mad-Eye so casually assumed he’d be available for this mission.
She wondered why on earth a wizard as clever and agreeable as Remus Lupin hadn’t been snapped up by some lucky employer three times over.
“There,” said Remus, suddenly, just as Tonks caught the motion herself and snapped to full attention. “It’s Gibbon.”
“He’s alone,” said Tonks. “We could keep watch here to see who his contact is, so we know what to expect before we move in. Or we could go inside now and watch what he’s doing while he waits.”
“What’s your preference? You’re the lead on this mission.”
Remus was watching her closely. She couldn’t help feeling as though she were sitting her Defence N.E.W.T., or her Auror qualification exams. The man who’d laughed so hard with her over firewhisky and silly noses just last night had turned into a deadly serious member of the Order of the Phoenix-and well he might have done, as Death Eaters were not something to trifle with.
“In now,” she decided. “We’ll be close enough to see and hear what happens when the contact arrives.”
Remus nodded once, and she thought she read approval in his expression before he threw Mad-Eye’s Invisibility Cloak over his head and vanished from sight.
She let out the breath she’d been holding.
Tonks shifted her face back into what Sirius insisted on calling “old Drusilla” and hobbled unevenly, but quickly, out of the park and across the street. She pulled the shop door open wide. A little bell tinkled overhead. She shuffled through the doorway, hoping she was taking enough time to let Remus slip past her and inside the shop before the door shut.
And then an invisible hand touched her elbow to let her know he was through.
Tonks almost raised an eyebrow. Standard Auror procedure for Invisible Backup, that was. She started to wonder how Remus knew it, until she realised that Mad-Eye had probably trained the whole Order. Then she had to suppress an affectionate smile for her mentor.
“I can only give you two pounds for it,” an elderly Muggle shopkeeper was saying. He squinted at an extremely ugly lamp, carved in the shape of a shrieking banshee, with a stained shade of Slytherin-green silk. “It’s not in the best shape.”
“Yes, fine,” said Gibbon, impatiently. “Done.” He snatched the money from the old man’s hand, shoved it into the pocket of the black raincoat that had to have been transfigured from a cloak, and stalked out of the shop.
“Young people today have no manners,” the shopkeeper grumbled, picking his way along a narrow path between shelves and tables crowded with things that might as well have come straight out of old Grandma Tonks’s attic, dust and all.
She watched him set the lamp down at the far end of a table overflowing with lamps and vases.
“Must be a drop,” came a quiet voice in Tonks’s ear.
“Yeah,” she murmured, trying not to move her lips. “I’ll buy the lamp and take it outside. You stay here and see if anyone comes looking for it.” Snape’s tip had suggested that Gibbon and another Death Eater planned to meet here, but this was better-if the lamp held a message, maybe the Order could get it for themselves.
Tonks began to work her way over to the table with the lamps, trying to look as if she were browsing.
Of course, with Remus there to see it, her boot caught on something. She tripped, and nearly went sprawling. Cursing under her breath, she grabbed the back of a moth-eaten overstuffed chair to right herself. The culprit was an errant loop of hose from an ancient vacuum cleaner that was almost, but not quite, tucked under the table. She shook her ankle free, and gave the hose a good shove with her foot.
The bell over the shop door tinkled again. Tonks looked that way without turning her head.
It was Avery. There was only one reason for a Death Eater to be here now.
Aiming one last surreptitious kick at the vacuum, Tonks sped up as much as she could without breaking cover, edging her way around the table toward the banshee lamp.
“Hello,” Avery said to the Muggle shopkeeper, apparently unable to stop a small curl of disdain from lifting his lip. “I’m looking for a lamp. Something with a green shade, perhaps?”
Tonks hissed a quick breath and gripped her wand. But before she could cast a single spell, the green lampshade faded to a pale, water-spotted blue. Three other lamps around the table suddenly sported shades that looked as though they had come straight from the Slytherin common room.
She pursed her lips in a silent whistle. Remus was good. Although she knew that already, from his spell-casting for the sock prank.
She picked up the banshee lamp and started around the other side of the table, heading toward the entrance to the shop, where the till was.
“What’s that you’ve got?” Avery was right beside her.
“Dear me, young man,” she wheezed, “you startled me.”
She turned and started to walk away, but his hand closed over her arm.
“One moment.” His voice wasn’t quite menacing-he probably thought she really was a batty old Muggle, and it seemed the Death Eaters weren’t yet ready to start Muggle-baiting in broad daylight. “I’m a collector, and I’m looking for just the right lamp. Let me see what you’ve got there.”
Tonks felt a tingle of magic slide past her hand just before Avery pulled her around to get a look at the lamp. It was a gaudy, red-and-white lighthouse now, under the stained blue lampshade.
Avery frowned.
Tonks sent silent gratitude in-well-what she thought was Remus’s direction. Avery was still suspicious, but at least he wasn’t sure she had his lamp. But now she had to get herself out of this fix.
There was no time to plan anything clever.
She could only think of one thing...
While Avery was busy glaring at the lamp, Tonks flicked the wand she held, hidden, in her other hand.
Whzzzzzzzzzzzzhhh.
The vacuum cleaner sprang to life in a cloud of dust.
Avery yelped, and let go of her arm.
Tonks jabbed with her wand again, while he was distracted, and the vacuum hose rolled free, stopping only when it had swallowed the hem of Avery’s long coat (another badly Transfigured cloak, of course).
Grrrrrrrrrffffffff.
Avery was yelling, now, kicking at the vacuum cleaner and trying to pull his coat away from the persistent hose.
“I’m sorry, sir! Terribly sorry!” The shopkeeper came shuffling in their direction, at speed.
Tonks ran for it.
Or at least, still in character, she performed the world’s most rapid hobble, threading between tables with the lamp clutched in one hand. She stopped at the till just long enough to drop a Muggle fiver on the counter, and scurried through the door.
The swiftest touch on her elbow told her that Remus was through as well.
~ * ~
Under the Invisibility Cloak, Remus was grinning.
And why shouldn’t he grin? Hadn’t he and Tonks just intercepted Gibbon’s message from right under Avery’s nose? With flair. Coming off best in an encounter with a Death Eater was more than enough reason to grin. In this fight, they were going to need all the victories they could snatch, no matter how small.
They.
The Order.
Remus was part of something again.
At this exact moment, in fact, he felt very much part of a team. Working with Tonks was already almost as natural as working with Sirius and James, or Lily and Marlene, or the Prewett boys, had once been, and this was only his first mission with her.
Why shouldn’t he grin, indeed?
The door to the second-hand shop snicked closed behind them. Tonks ducked into a narrow alley between the shop and the news agent next door. “Finite,” she muttered, and the whine of the vacuum cleaner ceased. Avery, however, went on yelling.
Remus felt rather sorry for the Muggle shopkeeper.
He joined Tonks in the alley, pulling the cloak off as soon as he was out of sight of the street.
The grin, he kept.
“Well, that’s that!” he said. “Back to headquarters?”
Tonks turned and looked back at him, out of her own face now, under short black spikes. She gave a quick nod, and Disapparated.
She wasn’t grinning.
Remus felt his own grin falter as he spun on his heel and followed.
They emerged in another alleyway, the dank spot across the square from Number Twelve that was the Order’s Apparition point.
“What do you think about bringing Sirius in on this?” Remus asked as they crossed the square toward the house. “It cheers him up when he can help, and another head might be useful for figuring out what’s in this lamp.”
“Yeah,” said Tonks, “okay.” She shifted her grip on the gaudy lighthouse, and wouldn’t meet his eyes.
The last remnants of Remus’s exhilarated grin twisted into a grimace.
Don’t let that head swell up so fast, Lupin.
Just because he’d been unexpectedly good at pulling pranks as a boy, and had survived his years in the Order the first time-that was no reason to assume a fully qualified Auror would be pleased about working with him.
Number Twelve loomed up in front of them. They climbed the front steps and disarmed the security spells, working in silence. Once they had the door unlocked, Remus held it open for Tonks to pass through.
“Thanks,” she said, but her voice was subdued, and she still wasn’t looking at him.
Not so much of a team, then, after all.
~ * ~
Tonks clattered down the stairs into the kitchen, just ahead of Remus. Not being able to see his face made it easier.
Such high hopes, she’d had.
She found Sirius alone in the dim shadowy room, sitting in his usual place at the long table. He looked up at once from the sport pages of the Daily Prophet with an expression that was half curiosity and half envy. “Any luck?”
“Oh, yes-mission accomplished,” Remus answered from behind her, sounding cheerful enough. But there was a careful note in his voice that made her wince.
“We got something that Gibbon left for Avery,” she said dutifully, holding up the lamp.
Sirius raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t quite fit my image of Death Eather aesthetics.”
“Indeed,” said Remus, dryly. “Finite.” The banshee returned, with her green lampshade.
Sirius snorted, but then he looked from one of them to the other. “Did something go wrong? You both look a bit glum.”
“No,” said Remus quickly, “it all went fine.” He huffed a wry laugh under his breath. “Although I suspect Tonks is rather wishing she’d had someone more effective than an unemployed amateur for backup on her mission.”
“What?”
She blinked, startled into looking right at him. His smile was slightly twisted, and his eyes were guarded.
He really meant it.
“Don’t be daft.” She set the lamp on the table with a thump. “You were brilliant! The right spell in the right place at the right time-” She looked away again, running one finger absently along the edge of the green lampshade. “You’re no amateur, Remus. You’ve had loads more experience than I have. As far as I know, I’ve ever even faced an actual Death Eater before today.” She swallowed. “And I’m not proud of how that went. I’m sorry.”
“What?” Remus echoed. “What can you possibly have to be sorry about?”
She crossed her arms over her chest, scowling at the banshee. “Don’t try to humour me. You know I was hopeless. Avery wasn’t breaking any laws-there was nothing I could do, officially.” She sighed, deflating a little. “And I couldn’t think of anything unofficial to do, either, except to pull a prank like a third-year at Hogwarts.” She dropped into the chair next to Sirius and propped her head on her hands, threading her fingers through the short black spikes she’d automatically chosen to match her mood and pulling at her hair until it hurt. “I wanted to show you that I could do this. That I’m worth something to the Order.”
A chair scraped, and then Remus was sitting beside her. “Tonks,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “That’s exactly what you have done.”
She made herself look, dropping her arms and turning her face slowly toward him. His eyes were warm and open again, and she actually thought she saw-respect.
“You were the brilliant one. Spontaneous, effective, and fast.” His lips twitched, and then his grin began to reappear, a hint of the marvellous one he’d had when he came out from under the Invisibility Cloak. “Most of the time, the Order is most emphatically operating under the table. We’ve got to be creative, and invisible, and do what we can with what we’ve got, which isn’t ever much.” He raised an eyebrow. “If you can pull more pranks like the one you came up with today, you’ll be a formidable asset. And that’s no joke.”
Tonks sat a little straighter in her chair, taking that in.
“Is anyone going to bother telling me what happened?” Sirius pretended to grumble.
“There we were,” said Remus, with a dramatic sweep of his arm. “In a Muggle shop. Tonks had the lamp that Avery’s contact had just dropped off, and he was grabbing at her arm and being entirely too curious about it.”
“And?” growled Sirius.
“She animated,” Remus whispered, “a hoover. An old, loud one.”
“Ah.” Sirius was sniggering now.
“It tried to eat his cloak. Quite persistently, I should add.” Remus’s grin broke through again, sharpening into something downright mischievous. “You should have seen the look on Avery’s face!”
Tonks gave a little snort, remembering, and then a chuckle. Remus caught her eye, with that eyebrow raised again, and all at once they were both shaking with helpless laughter. Just as they had been the night before.
“I’d go pranking with you anytime, peanut,” said Sirius, a shade wistfully.
“Glad to hear it,” said Tonks, wiping her eyes and remembering what Remus had said about giving Sirius things to do. “We happen to have, right here, one certified Death Eater message drop.”
“We need your twisty little brilliant mind to help us work this out.” Remus pushed the banshee over to Sirius.
“What are we, then?” Sirius asked, squinting at the lamp. “The Order’s crack pranking team?”
“I like the sounds of that,” said Tonks.
“I do, too,” said Remus, very quietly.
He really did have the warmest smile that Tonks had ever seen.
~ * ~
[ ← Chapter 2 | → Chapter 4 | ↑ Kaleidoscope series index ]
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Marauding for the Cause (3920 words | PG)
On an Order mission featuring a banshee lamp, a spur-of-the-moment prank, and high expectations all around, Tonks and Remus learn a fair amount about each other.
Chapter 3
Marauding for the Cause
“We’ll want Tonks for this one,” said Mad-Eye gruffly.
His voice held a hint of pride, as well, Tonks thought.
And she held to that thought, because it eased the sting when the basement kitchen at Grimmauld Place immediately filled with murmurs of Yes, naturally, easier for her.
She only sat up straighter, smiled brightly, and gave a brisk nod. “Right, then, I’m on it.”
“I think that’s a marvellous suggestion, Alastor,” said Dumbledore. “Nymphadora has many talents to offer the Order beyond her, shall we say, natural affinity for disguise.”
The Headmaster’s habitual blue twinkle was a little too shrewd for comfort just now.
She Metamorphosed away a blush-wondering if that meant she was a cheater, after all-and tipped Dumbledore a nod and a cheekier grin.
“I want backup, though,” Mad-Eye went on. His normal eye focussed on her for an instant, no doubt picking up on the crestfallen look that she had meant to suppress, because the corner of his mouth twisted into what, for him, was a sympathetic grin. “Not because it’s your first mission, lass. If Gibbon and his contact need to be followed, and they go off in different directions, we need someone for each of them.” He paused, scanning the faces gathered around the long table. “Lupin, you’re available tomorrow, aren’t you?”
Tonks let herself start to relax. She liked Remus. They’d been a team already once, hadn’t they?-dreaming up a prank to nudge Sirius out of a sulk last week.
Only, then she heard his reply.
“I’m available,” he said to Mad-Eye, “yes.”
But his voice was terse. Almost sharp, really. And Tonks saw that his mouth had tightened.
Well. So much for the camaraderie she’d thought they’d found.
It shouldn’t really matter. After all, she had only just met the man. But her heart sank a little, all the same. She had seen things-that kind smile of his, an unexpected spark of mischief-that she had rather thought might make him nice to have as a friend.
Tonks raised her chin higher and forced herself not to let the grin falter. She could do this. She would show them that she was a real asset to the Order, even if they all thought she just lazed about, changing her face for fun.
Except that when Remus actually caught Tonks’s eye, his smile warmed again. “I’d be honoured to stand backup on Tonks’s first mission.”
She tossed him a mock salute, taking a deep breath and letting it quietly out again. Whatever it was about Mad-Eye’s request that Remus hadn’t liked, at least it didn’t seem to be the prospect of partnering with her.
Or so she hoped.
~ * ~
Most of the Order dispersed after the meeting was adjourned, but Remus was glad to see Tonks stay behind to chat with Sirius. It was becoming clear that she had a knack for cheering her cousin up as little else could.
And tonight, in particular, he was glad to see Sirius making her laugh in return. Tonks was new, and itching to prove herself-and the Order as a whole had spent the meeting underestimating her and making assumptions, just because she was different.
Remus rather suspected he could guess how she felt.
He fetched the bottle of firewhisky from the deep cabinet where Sirius stashed it, dismantling the spells they used (at Molly’s insistence) to keep it twin-proof. He poured three glasses and slid two of them along the table toward the others.
“Cheers,” said Sirius, taking a healthy swallow.
“Ta, Remus.” Tonks sent him a smile, though there was still a slightly cautious edge to her expression.
“To our mission.” Remus raised his glass to Tonks before he took a sip and let it burn its way gently down his throat.
Tonks blinked at him for a moment, and then seemed to come to some decision. She straightened out of her slouch and wrapped both hands around her glass.
“I didn’t make Auror just because I can Metamorphose,” she said, with an intense expression that stood out all the more sharply against the whimsy of her lime-green hair and loose, faded plaid shirt. “I don’t want you to think that, if we’re going to be partners on this mission.”
“I know.” Remus met the dark gaze straight on. “Mad-Eye couldn’t wait to send an assignment your way. He’s very proud of you, you know. Talks all the time about what a brilliant Auror you are.”
Tonks brightened a little at that, and then she shrugged and looked away, slightly sheepish. “I suppose the Metamorphosing is useful, though, sometimes.”
“There is that,” said Remus, mildly. “Were you thinking of a disguise for the mission?”
“Yeah.” Her contagious grin came to life again. “If we’re staking out a second-hand shop, I thought maybe I would do something like this.”
She scrunched up her face in a look of deep concentration-and then her features moved, and when she looked back up at Remus and Sirius, she was a little old lady, with wrinkles and leathery skin and wispy grey hair.
Sirius hooted. “You look just like Great-Aunt Drusilla!”
“That’s brilliant.” Remus leaned toward her, looking at the fine mesh of wrinkles around her eyes. “I’d never guess it wasn’t real.”
Tonks smirked, and let her features melt back to what they’d been before, except that her hair ended up tangerine-coloured this time.
Remus found himself studying what seemed to be her usual face. Not a wrinkle to be seen-this was fascinating. “Can you just change any feature at all, any way you want?”
And suddenly the stiff wariness was back. “Mostly, yeah.”
Remus winced. “Sorry,” he said, raising his hands and sitting back in his chair. “It’s just that I’ve never met a Metamorphmagus before, and I couldn’t help wondering.”
“Go on,” said Tonks, looking weary now, and resuming her slouch. “Try me.”
But it wasn’t fun anymore. Remus berated himself, silently. He of all people should know better than to make an issue of what someone was, at the expense of who they were.
“No, no.” He took another sip of firewhisky and tried to smile an apology. “It’s really none of my business whether you can do, say, a pig snout for a nose.”
“A what?”
Tonks sat bolt upright again. But she wasn’t angry this time-her astonished eyebrows had vanished under her fringe, but the grin was back.
Sirius was sniggering, too. “Not what you expected, was it, peanut?” He nudged her with his elbow.
She nudged back, dark eyes dancing. “Not exactly, no, not with most gentlemen of my acquaintance.”
“Moony’s not like that,” Sirius pronounced, mock-solemn. “You don’t have to worry about him.”
“I’m not like what?” Remus looked from one cousin to the other, missing the joke.
“Never you mind,” said Sirius, sniggering again.
“I haven’t ever tried a pig snout,” Tonks mused, settling back into her chair. “But I like a challenge.” And there it was again-that conspiratorial smile that Remus remembered from the sock prank. Something warm sparked, deep in his chest.
Her nose stretched and grew.
And then Sirius, never one to be outdone, asked for rabbit ears. The rest of the evening only got sillier.
Remus couldn’t even begin to remember the last time he had laughed so much.
~ * ~
Tonks shifted a little-the wooden bench where they were perched, in a dingy little park across the street from the second-hand shop that Snape’s latest tip had led them to, was awfully hard. She’d been on plenty of miserable stake-outs in her capacity as an Auror, but that didn’t make this particular bench any easier on her backside.
Remus, beside her, was impressively still. Not a fidget to be seen.
“You’re good at this stake-out business. Maybe you should have been an Auror.” She turned her head to grin at him, keeping one eye on the entrance to the shop. “What do you do for a living, Remus?”
If she’d thought he was motionless before, that had nothing on how still he went now.
But she only had enough time to start wondering why she’d said the wrong thing when he smiled-it was a little forced, but it was a smile-and said, “I’m working full-time for the Order these days, actually.”
He wouldn’t quite meet her eyes.
“Oh, right,” said Tonks, quickly. “That’s good luck for the Order, then.”
“I wonder,” was all he said, but his smile eased a little.
Not a topic to pursue with him, obviously. Tonks turned back toward the second-hand shop, but now she kept one eye on Remus. She doubted he was giving all his time to the Order because he was independently wealthy; he was always impeccably neat, but there was no denying that his clothes were rather shabby. So maybe he simply didn’t have a job right now. That would explain why her question made him uncomfortable-and perhaps why he’d been irritated when Mad-Eye so casually assumed he’d be available for this mission.
She wondered why on earth a wizard as clever and agreeable as Remus Lupin hadn’t been snapped up by some lucky employer three times over.
“There,” said Remus, suddenly, just as Tonks caught the motion herself and snapped to full attention. “It’s Gibbon.”
“He’s alone,” said Tonks. “We could keep watch here to see who his contact is, so we know what to expect before we move in. Or we could go inside now and watch what he’s doing while he waits.”
“What’s your preference? You’re the lead on this mission.”
Remus was watching her closely. She couldn’t help feeling as though she were sitting her Defence N.E.W.T., or her Auror qualification exams. The man who’d laughed so hard with her over firewhisky and silly noses just last night had turned into a deadly serious member of the Order of the Phoenix-and well he might have done, as Death Eaters were not something to trifle with.
“In now,” she decided. “We’ll be close enough to see and hear what happens when the contact arrives.”
Remus nodded once, and she thought she read approval in his expression before he threw Mad-Eye’s Invisibility Cloak over his head and vanished from sight.
She let out the breath she’d been holding.
Tonks shifted her face back into what Sirius insisted on calling “old Drusilla” and hobbled unevenly, but quickly, out of the park and across the street. She pulled the shop door open wide. A little bell tinkled overhead. She shuffled through the doorway, hoping she was taking enough time to let Remus slip past her and inside the shop before the door shut.
And then an invisible hand touched her elbow to let her know he was through.
Tonks almost raised an eyebrow. Standard Auror procedure for Invisible Backup, that was. She started to wonder how Remus knew it, until she realised that Mad-Eye had probably trained the whole Order. Then she had to suppress an affectionate smile for her mentor.
“I can only give you two pounds for it,” an elderly Muggle shopkeeper was saying. He squinted at an extremely ugly lamp, carved in the shape of a shrieking banshee, with a stained shade of Slytherin-green silk. “It’s not in the best shape.”
“Yes, fine,” said Gibbon, impatiently. “Done.” He snatched the money from the old man’s hand, shoved it into the pocket of the black raincoat that had to have been transfigured from a cloak, and stalked out of the shop.
“Young people today have no manners,” the shopkeeper grumbled, picking his way along a narrow path between shelves and tables crowded with things that might as well have come straight out of old Grandma Tonks’s attic, dust and all.
She watched him set the lamp down at the far end of a table overflowing with lamps and vases.
“Must be a drop,” came a quiet voice in Tonks’s ear.
“Yeah,” she murmured, trying not to move her lips. “I’ll buy the lamp and take it outside. You stay here and see if anyone comes looking for it.” Snape’s tip had suggested that Gibbon and another Death Eater planned to meet here, but this was better-if the lamp held a message, maybe the Order could get it for themselves.
Tonks began to work her way over to the table with the lamps, trying to look as if she were browsing.
Of course, with Remus there to see it, her boot caught on something. She tripped, and nearly went sprawling. Cursing under her breath, she grabbed the back of a moth-eaten overstuffed chair to right herself. The culprit was an errant loop of hose from an ancient vacuum cleaner that was almost, but not quite, tucked under the table. She shook her ankle free, and gave the hose a good shove with her foot.
The bell over the shop door tinkled again. Tonks looked that way without turning her head.
It was Avery. There was only one reason for a Death Eater to be here now.
Aiming one last surreptitious kick at the vacuum, Tonks sped up as much as she could without breaking cover, edging her way around the table toward the banshee lamp.
“Hello,” Avery said to the Muggle shopkeeper, apparently unable to stop a small curl of disdain from lifting his lip. “I’m looking for a lamp. Something with a green shade, perhaps?”
Tonks hissed a quick breath and gripped her wand. But before she could cast a single spell, the green lampshade faded to a pale, water-spotted blue. Three other lamps around the table suddenly sported shades that looked as though they had come straight from the Slytherin common room.
She pursed her lips in a silent whistle. Remus was good. Although she knew that already, from his spell-casting for the sock prank.
She picked up the banshee lamp and started around the other side of the table, heading toward the entrance to the shop, where the till was.
“What’s that you’ve got?” Avery was right beside her.
“Dear me, young man,” she wheezed, “you startled me.”
She turned and started to walk away, but his hand closed over her arm.
“One moment.” His voice wasn’t quite menacing-he probably thought she really was a batty old Muggle, and it seemed the Death Eaters weren’t yet ready to start Muggle-baiting in broad daylight. “I’m a collector, and I’m looking for just the right lamp. Let me see what you’ve got there.”
Tonks felt a tingle of magic slide past her hand just before Avery pulled her around to get a look at the lamp. It was a gaudy, red-and-white lighthouse now, under the stained blue lampshade.
Avery frowned.
Tonks sent silent gratitude in-well-what she thought was Remus’s direction. Avery was still suspicious, but at least he wasn’t sure she had his lamp. But now she had to get herself out of this fix.
There was no time to plan anything clever.
She could only think of one thing...
While Avery was busy glaring at the lamp, Tonks flicked the wand she held, hidden, in her other hand.
Whzzzzzzzzzzzzhhh.
The vacuum cleaner sprang to life in a cloud of dust.
Avery yelped, and let go of her arm.
Tonks jabbed with her wand again, while he was distracted, and the vacuum hose rolled free, stopping only when it had swallowed the hem of Avery’s long coat (another badly Transfigured cloak, of course).
Grrrrrrrrrffffffff.
Avery was yelling, now, kicking at the vacuum cleaner and trying to pull his coat away from the persistent hose.
“I’m sorry, sir! Terribly sorry!” The shopkeeper came shuffling in their direction, at speed.
Tonks ran for it.
Or at least, still in character, she performed the world’s most rapid hobble, threading between tables with the lamp clutched in one hand. She stopped at the till just long enough to drop a Muggle fiver on the counter, and scurried through the door.
The swiftest touch on her elbow told her that Remus was through as well.
~ * ~
Under the Invisibility Cloak, Remus was grinning.
And why shouldn’t he grin? Hadn’t he and Tonks just intercepted Gibbon’s message from right under Avery’s nose? With flair. Coming off best in an encounter with a Death Eater was more than enough reason to grin. In this fight, they were going to need all the victories they could snatch, no matter how small.
They.
The Order.
Remus was part of something again.
At this exact moment, in fact, he felt very much part of a team. Working with Tonks was already almost as natural as working with Sirius and James, or Lily and Marlene, or the Prewett boys, had once been, and this was only his first mission with her.
Why shouldn’t he grin, indeed?
The door to the second-hand shop snicked closed behind them. Tonks ducked into a narrow alley between the shop and the news agent next door. “Finite,” she muttered, and the whine of the vacuum cleaner ceased. Avery, however, went on yelling.
Remus felt rather sorry for the Muggle shopkeeper.
He joined Tonks in the alley, pulling the cloak off as soon as he was out of sight of the street.
The grin, he kept.
“Well, that’s that!” he said. “Back to headquarters?”
Tonks turned and looked back at him, out of her own face now, under short black spikes. She gave a quick nod, and Disapparated.
She wasn’t grinning.
Remus felt his own grin falter as he spun on his heel and followed.
They emerged in another alleyway, the dank spot across the square from Number Twelve that was the Order’s Apparition point.
“What do you think about bringing Sirius in on this?” Remus asked as they crossed the square toward the house. “It cheers him up when he can help, and another head might be useful for figuring out what’s in this lamp.”
“Yeah,” said Tonks, “okay.” She shifted her grip on the gaudy lighthouse, and wouldn’t meet his eyes.
The last remnants of Remus’s exhilarated grin twisted into a grimace.
Don’t let that head swell up so fast, Lupin.
Just because he’d been unexpectedly good at pulling pranks as a boy, and had survived his years in the Order the first time-that was no reason to assume a fully qualified Auror would be pleased about working with him.
Number Twelve loomed up in front of them. They climbed the front steps and disarmed the security spells, working in silence. Once they had the door unlocked, Remus held it open for Tonks to pass through.
“Thanks,” she said, but her voice was subdued, and she still wasn’t looking at him.
Not so much of a team, then, after all.
~ * ~
Tonks clattered down the stairs into the kitchen, just ahead of Remus. Not being able to see his face made it easier.
Such high hopes, she’d had.
She found Sirius alone in the dim shadowy room, sitting in his usual place at the long table. He looked up at once from the sport pages of the Daily Prophet with an expression that was half curiosity and half envy. “Any luck?”
“Oh, yes-mission accomplished,” Remus answered from behind her, sounding cheerful enough. But there was a careful note in his voice that made her wince.
“We got something that Gibbon left for Avery,” she said dutifully, holding up the lamp.
Sirius raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t quite fit my image of Death Eather aesthetics.”
“Indeed,” said Remus, dryly. “Finite.” The banshee returned, with her green lampshade.
Sirius snorted, but then he looked from one of them to the other. “Did something go wrong? You both look a bit glum.”
“No,” said Remus quickly, “it all went fine.” He huffed a wry laugh under his breath. “Although I suspect Tonks is rather wishing she’d had someone more effective than an unemployed amateur for backup on her mission.”
“What?”
She blinked, startled into looking right at him. His smile was slightly twisted, and his eyes were guarded.
He really meant it.
“Don’t be daft.” She set the lamp on the table with a thump. “You were brilliant! The right spell in the right place at the right time-” She looked away again, running one finger absently along the edge of the green lampshade. “You’re no amateur, Remus. You’ve had loads more experience than I have. As far as I know, I’ve ever even faced an actual Death Eater before today.” She swallowed. “And I’m not proud of how that went. I’m sorry.”
“What?” Remus echoed. “What can you possibly have to be sorry about?”
She crossed her arms over her chest, scowling at the banshee. “Don’t try to humour me. You know I was hopeless. Avery wasn’t breaking any laws-there was nothing I could do, officially.” She sighed, deflating a little. “And I couldn’t think of anything unofficial to do, either, except to pull a prank like a third-year at Hogwarts.” She dropped into the chair next to Sirius and propped her head on her hands, threading her fingers through the short black spikes she’d automatically chosen to match her mood and pulling at her hair until it hurt. “I wanted to show you that I could do this. That I’m worth something to the Order.”
A chair scraped, and then Remus was sitting beside her. “Tonks,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “That’s exactly what you have done.”
She made herself look, dropping her arms and turning her face slowly toward him. His eyes were warm and open again, and she actually thought she saw-respect.
“You were the brilliant one. Spontaneous, effective, and fast.” His lips twitched, and then his grin began to reappear, a hint of the marvellous one he’d had when he came out from under the Invisibility Cloak. “Most of the time, the Order is most emphatically operating under the table. We’ve got to be creative, and invisible, and do what we can with what we’ve got, which isn’t ever much.” He raised an eyebrow. “If you can pull more pranks like the one you came up with today, you’ll be a formidable asset. And that’s no joke.”
Tonks sat a little straighter in her chair, taking that in.
“Is anyone going to bother telling me what happened?” Sirius pretended to grumble.
“There we were,” said Remus, with a dramatic sweep of his arm. “In a Muggle shop. Tonks had the lamp that Avery’s contact had just dropped off, and he was grabbing at her arm and being entirely too curious about it.”
“And?” growled Sirius.
“She animated,” Remus whispered, “a hoover. An old, loud one.”
“Ah.” Sirius was sniggering now.
“It tried to eat his cloak. Quite persistently, I should add.” Remus’s grin broke through again, sharpening into something downright mischievous. “You should have seen the look on Avery’s face!”
Tonks gave a little snort, remembering, and then a chuckle. Remus caught her eye, with that eyebrow raised again, and all at once they were both shaking with helpless laughter. Just as they had been the night before.
“I’d go pranking with you anytime, peanut,” said Sirius, a shade wistfully.
“Glad to hear it,” said Tonks, wiping her eyes and remembering what Remus had said about giving Sirius things to do. “We happen to have, right here, one certified Death Eater message drop.”
“We need your twisty little brilliant mind to help us work this out.” Remus pushed the banshee over to Sirius.
“What are we, then?” Sirius asked, squinting at the lamp. “The Order’s crack pranking team?”
“I like the sounds of that,” said Tonks.
“I do, too,” said Remus, very quietly.
He really did have the warmest smile that Tonks had ever seen.
~ * ~
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