"He's safe," Mad-Eye said, pulling off his Invisibility Cloak and hanging it on a peg beside Molly's door.

Tonks released her breath through clenched teeth, letting the soft whistling sound of it fill her skull. "You're certain?"

"Well, I couldn't talk to him," Mad-Eye conceded, "or even take off the cloak, but they were all back. He had half the pack around him--the short half of it--listening to him read some bloody foolishness about ghosts at Christmas. He looked to be healthy enough and in good spirits, which is more than I can say for you, Tonks."

"Oh, thank you," she said acidly. She fretted at the edge of the brief note Molly had received three days ago--I can't check in. Greyback has plans and expects me to be here. I'll contact you when it's possible. Don't send Moody.

Molly watched this, her eyes narrowed, then shook her head and muttered something about foolish men and not understanding. "Well," she said, "at least he'll come for Christmas. Will you and your parents join us for lunch, Tonks?"

"Oh, my parents are out of the country," Tonks said. "And I..." She smiled. "Well, I think my Christmas present to Remus will be to not make him deal with this in front of his students."

"Hmph."

Bill rolled his eyes. "Mum, I don't think it would help for Ginny to give her opinion on the subject this year. She seems to have developed an advanced case of being fifteen."

Molly pursed her lips, then sighed a reluctant agreement. "Will you at least stay for dinner?" she asked.

Tonks agreed, and had dinner with the Weasleys and Mad-Eye. They talked for a long while about the war and the Ministry, and events in Hogsmeade--Bill had made a recent trip to evaluate the Zonko's holdings for Gringotts--and carefully steered the conversation away from Molly's repeated attempts to get Tonks to relent about Christmas. After pudding, Molly evicted them all from the kitchen so she could clean up, and Arthur started a fire in the grate in the living room. Mad-Eye made his excuses and left for the evening.

"I do think you should come," Arthur told Tonks quietly while Bill went to get some wine from the cellar. "Someone needs to get some sense into Lupin's head."

"I'm not going to push him, Arthur."

He nodded. Bill came up with two bottles of wine, and, when Molly finished in the kitchen, they sat comfortably in the Burrow, drinking and speaking of other matters. Tonks got them laughing over Robards' romantic entanglements and Bill talked about Fleur's Veela grandmother, whose short temper had made a recent visit something of an adventure. Fleur herself was still in France, helping Madame Maxime cover for a Beauxbatons teacher who had fallen ill. Molly and Arthur went upstairs to bed at ten o'clock.

"Do you want more wine?" Bill asked.

Tonks nodded, sliding down onto the floor and stretching her toes out toward the fire. "I have tomorrow off. I'm going to go up to Oxfam and pick up a few things--"

"Like what?" Bill asked, Summoning another bottle from the cellar.

"I don't know. Whatever I find. That's the fun of the thing."

"You really should go shopping with Fleur sometime," he muttered.

"I have a feeling the invitation isn't going to happen again." Tonks finished her glass of wine and poured another one, then took a sip and leaned back against the sofa and closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of the fire on her face. Her whole body felt like it was sagging, pulling into the floor, her mind sprawled out lazily inside her skull. "What did you mean about Ginny?" she asked drowsily.

Bill reached over her for the wine bottle and poured another glass. "I had a letter from her last week. She's got an opinion about everything this year. Apparently, she's decided Ron is insufferably immature and lectured him about how couples are meant to behave. And that reminded her that she really wanted to talk to me about Fleur and..." He sighed. "She's dropping rather heavy hints that she'd prefer I marry you, actually."

"Oh, I'm sorry. If I told her the truth, she'd stop. She adores Remus. But--"

"--but then she'd start in on letters to Lupin," Bill finished, smiling. He took on a high falsetto. "'Dear Professor Lupin--Really, you are behaving horribly... don't you have any sense of romance?'"

Tonks laughed and continued the imagined letter. "'After all, you're a Gryffindor! Why are you so afraid of one little metamorphmagus who can't even shapeshift anymore?'"

"'...Thanks to you,'" Bill finished. "Trust me, she'd point out exactly whose fault it is." He sighed. "She was always so sweet. What happened?"

Tonks grinned and opened her eyes. "Fifteen," she said. "We were all horrible."

"What did you do?"

She thought about it. "I think that was the year I told Mum I was going to name my children Jane and Philip and never put them through the torture she'd imposed on me."

"You've changed your mind about that?"

"I don't insult Mum to her face about it anymore, anyway." She yawned. "Or behind her back. I'd never be doing anything else. Have you noticed half the damned Order is calling me Nymphadora now?"

He smiled. "I keep expecting you to explode and start screaming like your auntie."

"Would anyone hear me?" She rubbed her face vigorously. "Sorry. That was a bit on the self-pitying side, wasn't it?"

"Oh, I can beat that. I'm engaged to the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life, I have a good job, I'm getting along with all but one of my brothers, and I'm whinging about my baby sister being a bit of a baby. Woe is me." He smirked.

"A right pair of ninnies, we are," Tonks agreed. She took Remus's note from her pocket and read its sparse lines again. "I'm actually angry at him for not sending me a note. You'd think he'd been clear enough by now, wouldn't you?"

Bill raised his eyebrows. "Yes, I've seen exactly how clear he is with you. If his messages were any clearer, I'd be expecting Dementors to jump out of them."

Tonks laughed. "So you don't think I'm mad? Mad-Eye does."

"No, he doesn't. He's just worried about you." Bill drained his wine glass and poured another. "I asked him where it is he goes to check on Lupin. He wouldn't tell me. Something about thinking I'd tell you."

"What a silly notion." She sat up. "But it doesn't matter. How hard can it be to track where the owl came from? A Muggle-born's brother who's a priest. My dad probably knows him. Maybe we should just tell Mad-Eye, though. I mean, that it's about getting the children out of there, not about me planning some lovesick invasion of Greyback's pack."

Bill nodded. He reached for the stack of papers on Remus's shelf and flipped through them idly. "Can we do this?" he asked. "Get all of them, I mean?"

"I don't know. I need to know more about where they are first. I think..." She sighed. "There's something... gates. Secret gates. If I could get them to one while they're transformed and we could guard the exit point so they don't get any further until morning... and of course, stop Greyback from following them or knowing where they'd go..." She bit her lip. "Not to mention, doing a dark spell with blood and bones. Maybe I should think more traditionally."

"Not your strong suit," Bill said, frowning. "Try more of this."

"I... well... It isn't possible. It would be smarter to put together a team and just take them."

Bill looked disappointed, but didn't push the issue. "I've set up new vaults for Fiona's family," he said. "Just moving a bit of gold at a time. It won't look suspicious when they disappear, if we wait a few months. There've been plenty of disappearances."

"I'll be sure to send Voldemort a thank you note for the handy cover story."

"Mmm, credit where it's due, yes."

She shook her head and covered her face with her hands. "It's too much, Bill. I don't know how to do this. I have all the pieces, but I don't know how to put them together."

"Hey," Bill said, and pried her hands away from her face. "You don't have all the pieces. I'll get the ones we're missing from Lupin at Christmas. By hook or by crook. And then it will come together, and we'll get them out." He pinched her nose, much as she imagined he would pinch Ginny's (at least when he wasn't annoyed at her). "A girl who can get an O in potions from Snape while he hates her can do anything."

"Right. I suppose I--"

"'appy birthday, Bill!" someone said cheerfully, and Tonks and Bill looked up to see Fleur flouncing into the room, turning smartly at the door, her face falling as they stood up together.

Bill smiled brightly. "Fleur!" he said, going to her with his arms open. "I thought you were stuck in France."

"I... er... Madame Cuvier was feeling better, so I... eh... for you birthday..." She looked at Tonks in a confused sort of way, then lowered her eyebrows and glared at Bill. "Am I eenterupteeng?"

Bill laughed heartily and shook his head. Looking at Fleur, Tonks supposed she knew why it would be a laughable subject. "No," he said. "We were just talking about Order business."

"Over wine? And ze fire?"

"Yes," Bill said, still amused as he led her to the sofa. "I'm afraid so. Tonks was over for dinner with Mum and Dad, and we all got talking over wine afterward. Mum and Dad just went upstairs."

"I'm sorry, Fleur," Tonks said. "I suppose that did look horrible."

Fleur gave her a tight little smile. "Yes. A bit."

Bill sat down beside her and kissed her cheek, then laced his fingers through hers. "I'm glad you came back," he said. "But I'm afraid I can't provide you with a grand romantic drama tonight. Just talking about werewolves." He raised an eyebrow at Tonks. "Do you mind if I explain what we were discussing? I've never had much patience with those stories where everyone misunderstands everyone else, and all anyone needs to do is sit down and map it out."

"Do you really want to involve her in it?"

"If Bill is eenvolved, I am eenvolved already," Fleur said.

Tonks nodded. "Fair enough. I'm the last person to argue with that reasoning this year."

Bill did most of the talking, Tonks interrupting him only long enough to fill in some of Greyback's history. He skirted the issue of Tonks's muddled relationship with Remus, for which she was grateful. Fleur listened attentively, and when Bill finished, she frowned.

"And why deedn't you talk to me?"

"Well, Greyback is very dangerous and--"

"And I can 'elp." She shook her head. "When will you learn to ask me for 'elp?"

"How can you help?" Tonks asked. "I mean, not to interrupt your scolding of Bill, but how?"

"My grandmuzzer," Fleur said. "After she married my grandfazzer, she did not, eh... how to explain..." She bit her lip. "Ze Veela did not want 'er again. And after my grandfazzer died, she wanted to go back to ze mountains. So she went alone. But ozzers found her. And zey... zey have a... mmm..."

"A sanctuary?" Tonks suggested.

"Yes, yes. Sanctuary. Some Veela, some 'ouse elves 'oo were turned out, a few banshees. A vampire comes and goes. Eet is a village in ze mountains. Ze French Ministry knows very leetle about it, and zey ask no questions."

Tonks considered the information, kicking herself for forgetting Fleur's Veela grandmother--she would have paths into the world of dark creatures. Of course, the children were only dark creatures once a month, and Veela and banshees and vampires... "These are children," she said. "And at least one will have his parents with him. Are they... safe?"

"Safer zan werewolves," Fleur said acidly. "Especially zis Greyback you spoke of." She sighed. "I wish I 'ad known before I went 'ome. I could 'ave visited and asked."

"I'll consider it a lesson learnt," Bill said. "When in doubt, talk to my fiancée."

"I can think of certain people who could benefit from that lesson," Tonks said. She sighed. "Well, I doubt many of the children know French, but in the scheme of things, I imagine it won't be the foremost problem on their minds. You're certain they would be in no danger while they're purely human?"

"My seester stays zere for two weeks every summer. Sometimes with a friend. Zere 'as never been a problem." She thought about it. "Ze vampire... eh. Ze older people geeve 'im some blood. 'E does not take eet."

"And the Veela tempers?" Bill asked, cocking an eyebrow at her.

She stuck her tongue out at him. He winked; she blushed. And all was well.

Tonks felt suddenly weary. "I'm going to go home," she said. "I'll... well, Fleur. Perhaps we can talk about this?"

Fleur gave her a vague nod. "Yes. I will talk to my grandmuzzer."

"Yes... I..." Tonks stopped at the door, taking her cloak from the peg beside the door. "I don't know if she has any contact with other werewolves, but if she does... please make sure she doesn't mention it. I don't know how far Greyback's contacts go."

"Of course I would tell her this," Fleur said irritably. "'ow foolish would I need to be to not do so?"

"I'm sorry," Tonks said. "I'll go. I... happy birthday, Bill."

"Thank you." Bill stood up and walked her to the door. "I'll... er... well, we'll all talk soon." He gave her a sort of helpless smile. Fleur floated over to stand behind him.

Tonks smiled at her. "You have nothing to worry about," she said, and went out into the night. She Apparated back to Hogsmeade and looked up the hill at the Shrieking Shack. There was an extra bedroom she'd been meaning to get to work on, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Instead, she went back to the Hog's Head and played with the cat for awhile--Granny was standoffish at first from being left alone too often, but she warmed to a gentle game of batting a foam ball around--then fell asleep to the warm purring against her chest.

She woke up early and was halfway down to the morning briefing before she remembered that she had the day off. Dawlish glared at her when she sat down to join them anyway, but no one had any pressing emergencies. Aberforth told her that Dumbledore was staying put for the moment, and since she and McGonagall had cleansed the valley at the far end of the lake, the Dementors had been scarce on the ground. She went back to her room and sat in front of her mirror, trying to find some way to tie her too-long hair up. She'd got a bit too used to making it coarse when she needed to hold it in place, and she was all thumbs when it came to making it stick to its pins. She'd never bothered to learn the charms the other girls used, because she'd never needed them.

Frustrated after fifteen minutes of this, she gave up and just made a short pony tail at the base of her neck, then spent some time concentrating as hard as she could on morphing the color of her eyes. She managed to lighten them a bit, but they darkened again quickly. She tried her nose, but nothing at all happened. Granny, sitting on the floor, watched all of this with some interest, lazily batting at hair pins that Tonks had thrown to the floor. Tonks picked her up and cuddled her. "I guess this is it, isn't it? What d'you think, Gran?" Granny didn't express an opinion. "Yeah, I know. Not awful, I suppose. Not someone to cheat on Fleur Delacour with--not that I would--but, it could be worse, couldn't it?" She sighed and kissed the top of Granny's head, getting a mouthful of graying fur for her trouble.

"Oh, no," someone said at the open door. "It's hideous. Really, Tonks. Brown hair? It just makes you repulsive."

"I thought you found me repulsive anyway, Sanjiv," she said. "I also thought you had a job."

"It was a contract. I finished it." He Conjured a chair beside hers and sat down in it backwards. "Dumbledore spoke to me yesterday. He told me how to get to headquarters. I guess I'm really in this mess now."

She looked at him suspiciously. "When I went to visit you the summer after sixth year, why did I leave early?"

He blushed. "Because too much truth-telling wasn't healthy for us. And I'd rather not relive it."

Tonks nodded. That wasn't something anyone else, including Daffy and Maddie, would know about. "Dumbledore's not sending you on some mad assignment, is he? Infiltrating the Muggle-born Artists For Voldemort or some such thing?"

Sanjiv cocked his head thoughtfully. "Hmm. I wonder what would happen if I actually tried to start such a thing. Put ads in the Prophet, make posters..."

"Well, it would probably draw Aunt Bella out, but let's not try it, all right?"

"He said you could show me the place when you have time." Sanjiv produced a note on a small bit of parchment, signed by Dumbledore, to this effect. "As you've got the day off...?" He shrugged. "What do you say?"

Granny gave an imperious meow and stalked over to the window.

"Does that cat actually understand us?" Sanjiv asked.

"Don't they all?" She got up and scooped the cat off the floor and set her on the windowsill--the jump was too high for her these days--and looked across the village. There were still pockets of Dementor-induced fog, but they were shrinking in the daylight. "Do you think children would be safe around a Veela?"

He shrugged--she caught the movement out of the corner of her eye--and said, "As long as they don't cheat on her, I'd think so. They're all about men."

Tonks nodded, stroking the fur between Granny's ears. "And they don't have much use for other women."

"They only hate the beautiful ones, so you're safe."

"Oh, thank you so very much."

"You know I live to reassure you." He winked. "You know perfectly well you'd be hated by every Veela in Bulgaria. Are we going to London or not? You can take your cat if she's feeling abandoned."

Granny's days of energetic protests to being put in her carrying basket were long over, and she merely looked at Tonks resentfully when she was lowered in.

"Oh, don't scold," Tonks said. "You were the one who's tired of being left alone. Well, today at any rate." Granny gave a resigned meow. "And I'm putting the cover on. You hate the Floo network when the basket is open."

Granny laid her head down on her paws to pout, and Tonks put the cover on the basket.

"All set?" Sanjiv asked. "You don't need to get her special traveling toys or whatnot?"

"Oh, shut up."

He laughed, and teased her about her cat-mothering skills--an old joke--all the way to the Three Broomsticks, where they took the Floo network to the Leaky Cauldron, and a taxi to the car park near Grimmauld Place.

"This is the best place to park if you're driving," Tonks said.

"I'll remember that if I ever decide to give up Apparating, Floos, and broomsticks."

"My dad's car turned out to be dead useful last year," she said. "It's hard to explain showing up at a Muggle house without any kind of transportation. Don't your parents' friends ever wonder how you get around?"

"My parents live in the city. Their friends assume I take the train in and then get around like everyone else who doesn't have a car." He considered this as she led him toward the house. "They also assume I just got back from attending university abroad, and work for an advertising agency. And that I have obvious reasons for not going out with any of their daughters. And that I have a real fixation on clean floors. Mum's boss tried to convince me that I should invest in a good vacuum cleaner instead of all of those brooms I have stacked up in my room at home."

Tonks shook her head. "Why do you have those? Most of them are Muggle brooms."

"I was trying to learn to do the charm myself for a while. Thought I could have my own line of the things. But I never got the hang of... WHOA!"

"Don't stop and stare," Tonks said, watching the house appear between its neighbors. "The Muggles looking out their windows will think you're crazy."

"Right. And when we just disappear?"

"You know, I don't really know how that charm works, honestly. But there are no rumors about ghosts disappearing around here, so I suppose they just don't see it."

She let him in and closed the door quickly, putting her finger to her mouth and pointing to the screens around Auntie's portrait.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Shh. It's..."

"INTRUDERS! THIEVES! MURDEROUS CRETINS!"

Tonks sighed, set Granny's basket down, and moved the screens aside. "Hullo, Auntie," she said. "This is my friend Sanjiv."

"MUDBLOOD FREAK!"

"Sanjiv, my great aunt, Walburga Black."

"OUTSIDERS! FILTHY, HALF-BLOOD--"

"Charmed," Sanjiv said, bemused.

Tonks grabbed one of the curtains. "Get the other."

He did, and they covered her, cutting off the invective. Carefully, they replaced the screens.

"Is she always like that?" he whispered.

"Only when she's feeling friendly. Sometimes, she'll be really nasty." Tonks shrugged. "She's the one who disowned Mum."

"Your family's mental. No offense."

To Tonks's surprise, she was offended. It wasn't for Auntie's sake, with her ranting and paranoia, or for Aunt Bella's, with her sadistic curses and baby talk. It wasn't Aunt Narcissa, with her sunken eyes and frantic grasping for her family. It wasn't even for Mum, with her occasional rages and days of locking herself in her room. It was Sirius she was thinking of--Sirius locking himself in with Buckbeak, Sirius moodily stalking through the house as a dog, Sirius crouched on the kitchen floor, not talking, holding on to her and to Remus for dear life. And it was for herself, dreaming her violent dreams and trying to scrub them away with the dirt in the Shrieking Shack.

But Sanjiv didn't know those things. She had never shared anything about the Blacks with her friends. She hadn't known much about them--only about Mum's bad moods--when they'd made a habit of speaking of such things. She'd learned about it later, long after the patterns of conversation with her friends had found a permanent, comfortable shape which she didn't especially care to shift. Sanjiv was just being Sanjiv, and people who didn't live in the asylum nearly always found the mad amusing. She just shrugged.

They tiptoed past the stairs down to the kitchen, and Tonks pointed toward them. "That's where we usually meet," she whispered. "I don't think there's anyone down there just now. We can check later to see if Molly has left anything for us to eat."

Granny's basket wiggled, and the top popped off of it. Granny looked up curiously, then ducked back inside. Tonks scooped her up. "You're fine," she said. "Come on. I'd wager there's a mouse or two to chase around here."

Granny gave her a hopeful-sounding mew.

They went upstairs to the parlor, where someone--Tonks supposed it was Molly--had put the draperies back where they belonged. Several boxes from the attic had been brought down, but they were stacked neatly under a table, with only the one Molly was sorting actually open. There was a scroll beside it, and Tonks guessed she was inventorying the place for Harry.

"Can we actually talk now?" Sanjiv whispered.

"Hmmm? Oh, yes. She hears well enough in the entrance hall, but up here we're safe enough."

He nodded, relieved, and went to the windows. "Neat old place, really."

"It hasn't tried to attack you yet, anyway. Don't pick up any old clothes. Some of my uncle's robes tried to strangle Charlie Weasley's brother last year." Tonks set the cat down, and she started to explore on her own, poking at the rug, sniffing the curtains. She crouched for a long time on the rug in front of the family tree, smelling it deeply. Tonks, who had slept on that floor, had thought something in the carpet smelled odd. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what it was, or why Granny found it so intriguing.

Sanjiv wandered around the edge of the room, looking at the wallpaper, spending some time examining a tiny portrait of a little boy who did nothing but blink from time to time. Tonks thought it had been moved in here from one of the guest rooms.

"I don't know who he is," she offered after a few minutes.

"Whoever he is, he looks like you."

Curious, she bent over beside him and looked at the portrait. The boy had light brown hair, fine features, and a heart-shaped face. His eyes were gray and his mouth made a little pink bow. He was wearing a fussy set of robes that Tonks associated with the last century. He smiled.

And his hair turned black.

Tonks gasped. "My goodness. I thought I was the first in the family."

The boy in the portrait giggled and slipped out of the frame, appearing in a painting of Stonehenge and hiding behind one of the great rocks. He peeked out and grinned eagerly. His hair had gone brown again, but when he ducked behind and came out a second time, it had turned bright Weasley red.

"Has he done this before?"

Tonks shrugged. "I don't know. I never really looked at him before."

The boy ran further, out of the Stonehenge painting and into a long, thin pen-and-ink drawing underneath the family tree. He became black-and-white himself, and pointed up eagerly at the tapestry.

Sanjiv walked over to it, bemused. "There are few names to choose from up there, my friend," he said.

The boy sighed and sat down with his legs crossed, dejected.

Tonks scanned the hundreds of names. No one really seemed to stand out. "Sorry," she said. "I'll see if I can find your name later."

He turned around and showed them his back.

Tonks shook her head. "Welcome to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place," she said. "No ghosts, except for everything here."

Sanjiv laughed and continued looking around. "Why were you asking about Veela?" he said. "Back in Hogsmeade."

Tonks sat down on the sofa and pulled up one of the tasseled green pillows. She hugged it against herself. "I'm trying to help some children. Some werewolf children. Remus..."

"They're his?" Sanjiv turned to her with wide eyes.

"What? No. They're... well, they belong to a few people. They were bitten by the same person who bit Remus. I'm just... well, we're just... I want them out of there. And Fleur Delacour--do you remember Fleur?"

"Sure. From your school-guarding squad. Nice personality."

"Mm-hmm. She's part Veela, and she said I could hide them with her Veela relatives."

"Sound like a good idea. How do you mean to get them there?"

"That's the trick, isn't it? There are these gates... I don't know. If I could find one, maybe we could use it to get them to the Forbidden Forest--it would have to be while they're transformed--and then if we could hold them there until the morning, we could side-along Apparate them to France... if..." She sighed. "Of course, if I do find a gate, I'd have to seal it so Greyback couldn't come through after them, and of course I'd have to do a really dark spell to open it--"

Something shifted under the table and, and a small avalanche of boxes slipped out. Granny poked her nose out apologetically from behind them.

"Now, you put those right back," Sanjiv said, winking and heading over, wand raised. The boxes started to move, but they weren't fitting exactly as Molly had had them.

Tonks went over, and they started to move the boxes back by hand.

"Oh, here's the problem," Sanjiv said, reaching under the table. "There's an open one back here. Everything's sliding off of--UGH!"

"What?"

"Bones!"

"What?"

"Well, teeth, anyway, I think." He knocked his head on the table as he pulled back, his hand full. He dropped a fistful of small white teeth into Tonks's hands. There was a small cavity in one of them, and another was chipped. "Why does your family keep boxes of teeth?" He dove back under and pulled out the ebony boxes carved with snakes and set with green glass. The open one was engraved with Sirius's name, and the date of his seventh birthday. A soft bag of hair was in one corner of it.

Thoughtfully, Tonks opened the other box, labeled with Regulus's name. Another set of teeth was there, these set carefully in a ring around the hair bag. She closed it, and curled her fingers around Sirius's milk teeth.

The bones of a child.

She pocketed them.