It would be nice, wouldn’t it?
The Ministry’s training hall smelled of effort, dried sweat, and enchanted stone.
Tonks walked alongside Booth and Dawsey while a group of cadets followed in nervous silence, as if they still weren’t sure whether they were allowed to look around, speak, or even breathe.
—And this is where we learn not to end up smashed to bits —Booth said with a crooked grin as he swung the door open with a flourish—. Training and dueling hall. If any of you think you can cast a decent Stunner, this is the place to learn just how wrong you are.
Dawsey didn’t bother looking at the cadets; he was already rolling up his sleeves and drawing his wand. He aimed at Tonks without ceremony.
—Form a semicircle —he ordered, his voice low but firm, and the trainees moved like chess pieces sliding into place.
Tonks said nothing. She simply took her position at his side on the platform, calm and steady, letting Dawsey handle the fresh hatchlings.
Her partner was perfect for it. Fully at ease in his role as mentor —or “paternal big brother,” as Booth teased him— he began explaining defensive stances and standard protocol during a frontal attack.
She, meanwhile, watched the cadets’ expressions. Some pressed their lips together to avoid interrupting. Others were nearly buzzing with excitement. One of them —a freckled boy with a brand-new wand— looked at her as if she were some kind of legend.
She didn’t have a cadet assigned to her, and although part of her wouldn’t have minded having a younger apprentice on the team, she also knew it was for the best.
Moody, Kingsley, and herself —along with Hestia Jones— were the only Aurors who belonged to the Order of the Phoenix.
Bringing a cadet into the team would be risky. One careless word, one misplaced hint, and everything could fall apart.
Which was probably why Moody had never wanted to mentor anyone. He never knew who could be trusted.
Typical Alastor.
—Now Tonks and I will show you an example of real combat —Dawsey announced loudly, stepping back and raising his wand—. En garde!
He moved fast. A blue streak sliced through the air toward Tonks.
She dodged with an elegant, almost feline twist that earned a chorus of “oooh!” from the cadets. She fired back a softening hex that Dawsey managed to block just in time.
Tonks grinned, pleased with herself.
And then, as if her body remembered the weight of the morning, her mind slipped back to the raid… and the ring.
Earlier that day, she had spoken with her mentor. She had told him about the ring. Moody had spun his magical eye as if examining the connection between the jewel, the mysterious man beside Rookwood, the false Death Eaters, and the peculiar Baltasar Greaves.
—I’ll interrogate the imitators personally —he’d said darkly—. See if I can shake something out of them. Don’t worry about that anymore… for now.
Another spell crossed the hall.
Tonks saw it too late.
With no time for a dignified response, she let herself drop to the floor in a much clumsier heap than she would have liked.
Booth snorted beside the cadets and seized the chance to show off his sarcasm —and maybe, just maybe, to impress the pretty model-esque trainee who had conveniently positioned herself next to him.
—And that, kids, is why you always stay alert to your opponent —he said with exaggerated solemnity—. Unlike Auror Tonks.
Some cadets smiled timidly; others let out short, polite laughs, like people witnessing an inside joke.
Tonks lifted her head, mustering just enough dignity to stick her tongue out at him, playful and unbothered.
Dawsey stepped forward and, without saying a word, offered her his hand with a conspiratorial smile. Tonks took it without hesitation, letting him pull her to her feet.
—You’ll pay for that—she muttered under her breath.
—I hope so —he replied, still smiling.
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Nymphadora Tonks arrived at the Order of the Phoenix headquarters in the late afternoon, her body aching after a long day of training cadets at the Ministry.
She was still wearing her maroon Auror coat, though no longer with the strict formality of official events: buckles undone, sleeves slightly wrinkled, and a far more relaxed expression on her face.
She had also spent the last hour drowning in paperwork and listening to her superiors argue about the increasing Death Eater activity, and all she wanted at that point was a hot cup of tea and, with luck, a pleasant conversation.
But the moment she crossed the threshold into Grimmauld Place’s kitchen, she realized peace was not on the menu.
Molly Weasley was pacing back and forth with her brow furrowed, hands on her hips, glaring daggers at Fred and George, who were trying —not very successfully— to look innocent.
Ron, sitting at the table, stared in despair at his reflection in a polished saucepan. His hair, normally an unmistakable Weasley red, now blazed in a vibrant electric blue.
Tonks stopped in the doorway and arched an eyebrow, resting a hand on her hip.
—Well, well… since when did the Order of the Phoenix turn into a peacock farm?
The twins burst into laughter. Hermione and Ginny, sitting in a corner, exchanged amused looks at Ron’s expression as he clenched his teeth and shot Tonks a glare.
—If you were a bit more supportive, you’d tell me it’s not that noticeable —Ron muttered.
—Oh, sure, hardly noticeable at all —Tonks replied dramatically—. I’m certain no one will mistake you for exotic poultry if you step into the garden.
—You know, Tonks —Fred said, still laughing—. If you weren’t a Metamorphmagus, I’d say you sound jealous.
—Oh, absolutely, I’m dying of envy —Tonks said, pressing a hand to her chest—. But if you want competition, warn me ahead of time. I’m sure I can beat you with purple stripes or green polka dots.
—That would be a brilliant idea for our next instant dye! —George exclaimed with enthusiasm.
In a quiet corner of the kitchen, removed from the chaos, Remus Lupin was eating his dinner in silence, a book open in front of him.
Though his posture was relaxed, his face showed clear signs of fatigue, and the soft candlelight highlighted the lines of concern on his brow. He let his eyes drift over the pages, but his attentive ear absorbed every word of the conversation.
When his eyes met Tonks’s, he set down his cutlery and offered a faint smile.
—Good evening, Tonks. Long day?
—Don’t get me started —she murmured, dropping into a chair with a sigh and glancing around—. Where’s Sirius?
Remus closed his book calmly and rested his elbows on the table.
—With Harry. Molly gave them a breather, so I imagine they’re talking. Harry’s nervous about the hearing.
Tonks nodded.
She could easily imagine a disciplinary hearing wasn’t great for anyone’s nerves.
Her gaze wandered toward Molly, who was finishing her scolding of the twins.
—Right, out, both of you! —Molly ordered, pointing at the door—. And since you’ve got so much energy for fooling around, you can use it doing something useful. Go upstairs and help Ginny with the laundry. And if I hear you testing any more of your inventions, you’ll regret it.
The twins exchanged a look of dramatic resignation, then shrugged.
—Come, brother —Fred said with tragic solemnity as he marched toward the door—. Our genius is misunderstood in this house.
—Truly heartbreaking —George agreed, following him.
When the door shut behind them, Molly let out a long sigh and collapsed into the chair opposite Tonks, her shoulders sagging with exhaustion.
She rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes for a moment before speaking.
—I hope you don’t mind the chaos in here —she said with a mix of resignation and fondness—. These boys… one day they’ll drive me mad.
Tonks wrapped her hands around her cup and smiled.
—I think it’s charming, honestly —she replied warmly—. I live alone in a tiny flat in central London that I basically use for sleeping and showering. This place feels like a theatre full of life.
Molly gave her a warm, maternal look, that ever-present blend of kindness and curiosity.
—And how are you, dear? Everything all right at work?
The tone was casual, but her eyes held their usual spark of concern. She had noticed Tonks’s rumpled sleeves, the loose stud on her coat, and the quiet fatigue drawn across her features.
Tonks blew softly over her tea before answering.
—Oh, the usual, Molly. One day I’m a professional, competent Auror, and the next… well, I trip over a waste bin at the office and spill coffee all over Dawlish’s report. Again.
Molly let out a gentle laugh, though the worry in her expression didn’t quite disappear.
From the sink, where he was placing his plate, Lupin smiled faintly. He didn’t say anything, but the way he adjusted his posture, hand brushing his chin, made it clear he was listening. Then he returned to his seat and opened his book again, apparently absorbed in it.
—You need to rest more, Tonks. With everything that’s going on, you barely give yourselves a moment’s peace —Molly said softly, cradling her cup with both hands.
Tonks let out a short laugh, shaking her head.
—Don’t worry about me. Sometimes I think this… this warm tea, the twins getting scolded, the noise of this house… is the only real rest I get.
Molly offered her a tender smile, one that always carried the echo of a hug.
—You’re always welcome here, dear. You know that.
Tonks felt some of the day’s weight ease beneath that warmth.
—Thank you. I know. And trust me, I don’t plan to waste it.
The Weasley matriarch studied her with a thoughtful gleam. Despite seeing Tonks often, she realized how little she actually knew about her. Always moving, always laughing —but now, sitting in her kitchen, tired and unguarded, she seemed more human, more real. And very young. Instinctively, Molly’s maternal side stirred.
The first thing she did was pour her another cup of tea.
—And how’s your life going, Tonks? —she asked with an air of casualness, sliding the sugar bowl toward her—. We’ve hardly had time for a proper chat. Anyone special out there?
Tonks paused mid-stir, the spoon spinning between her fingers. Almost unintentionally, she darted a quick glance toward the corner where Lupin still sat.
He kept his eyes fixed on his book, but Tonks had the unmistakable impression that his attention wasn’t really on the words.
She sipped her tea, buying herself a moment before answering.
—You know, Molly? Sometimes I think I’m clumsier with people than with the cups I keep breaking.
Her tone was playful, but the joke didn’t quite hide the truth beneath.
Molly —with her vast experience with young witches and wizards of every temperament— raised an interested eyebrow.
—Oh? And why’s that?
The spoon resumed its quiet spinning between Tonks’s fingers, a telltale tic that their conversation was drifting into personal territory.
Even so, her posture relaxed slightly, as if the warmth and hum of the kitchen gave her permission to open up.
—I’ve dated some boys. A couple of casual things here and there, a slightly more serious one… but nothing ever seems to work out. —Her voice softened near the end, and her gaze drifted to some invisible point on the table—. Maybe the problem is me.
—Tonks… —Molly murmured gently, but the young Auror raised a hand before she could continue.
—Don’t get me wrong! —she rushed to add with a wide grin, as if refusing to let the moment become sentimental—. I’m not the kind who locks herself in with a chocolate cake to cry.
From his corner, Lupin tried to keep reading —though he hadn’t turned a page in quite a while.
He followed the conversation discreetly, and now and then his eyes flickered toward Tonks, intrigued by her confession.
—It’s just that… —Tonks set the spoon down and sighed, her voice turning softer, more thoughtful—. Sometimes I wonder if being an Auror has become the only truly stable relationship in my life. My job is the only thing I’m honestly committed to. And I don’t complain —I love it— but…
She hesitated, searching for the right words.
—It would be nice, wouldn’t it? To know what it’s like to love someone. Truly. Without reservations.
Lupin tilted his head slightly, absorbing not only her words, but the way she said them.
There was something in her lightly spoken tone that struck him as deeply genuine. Her smile, her candid way of talking… and the quiet sincerity woven into her confession.
The silence that followed was unexpectedly profound.
The lamps flickered softly, and the fire in the hearth crackled as though trying to fill the pause.
Tonks felt —for reasons she couldn’t explain— that Lupin had set his book aside.
Molly broke the quiet with a soft chuckle, though her expression remained tender, almost introspective.
—My, dear, you’ve got a more serious view of life than I thought. You’re still young, of course —her voice grew firmer, adopting that unmistakably warm, protective tone only a mother could manage—. But you can’t let your work be the only thing. Not even in times like these.
Tonks narrowed her eyes slightly, trying to decipher the shadow that had crept into Molly’s voice.
—I’ve seen what happens when we forget to live. Sometimes we assume tomorrow is guaranteed… but it isn’t.
Tonks opened her mouth to answer, but stopped.
Something in Molly’s tone, in her distant gaze, kept her quiet.
Lupin, who had remained slightly apart until then, rose slowly.
He stepped toward Molly and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
—Everything will be all right —he said softly.
Molly didn’t answer at once. She simply nodded, a slow gesture, and managed a faint smile.
—I’m sorry —she murmured, shaking her head as if trying to clear it—. It’s just that Arthur is on duty tonight, and I…
She didn’t finish. She didn’t need to.
Tonks leaned forward, reaching for Molly’s hand.
—It’s normal to worry, Molly. But if anyone can make it out of anything unharmed, it’s Arthur. You know how he is. He’s got more resourcefulness than any Auror I’ve met.
Molly let out a quiet laugh, grateful for Tonks’s attempt to cheer her up, though her eyes shimmered slightly.
—I’m sorry —she repeated, standing abruptly—. I should get back to the potatoes for dinner.
—I’ll help —Tonks offered, rising from her chair, but Lupin lifted a calm hand to stop her.
—Let her be —he said gently, watching Molly walk toward the pantry—. Sometimes a moment alone is exactly what’s needed.
His tone —serene, understanding— was enough to keep Tonks from insisting.
She hesitated, then sank back into her seat, spinning the spoon once more between her fingers.
Lupin took the chair across from her, and for a moment, the only sound in the room was the distant crackle of the fire.
—Did I say something wrong? —Tonks asked at last, genuine worry in her voice.
Lupin shook his head softly.
—No. Of course not.
—You, on the other hand, always seem to know what to say… —she added, slightly indignant—. As if you were reading minds or something.
To her surprise, Lupin laughed —a brief, warm sound that brightened the usual shadow behind his features.
Tonks stared at him, taken off guard by the sudden lightness, and ended up smiling too.
—I’m not a Legilimens —he said, still with that faint gleam in his eyes—. But in time… one learns to hear what isn’t said out loud. Especially around here.
Tonks nodded, letting his words settle.
As if giving voice to his own thoughts, Lupin continued in a quieter tone:
—Molly has her whole family in the Order —he said, his voice tempered with a mix of admiration and concern—. Her older children, Arthur… even Harry, whom she treats as her own. Her life revolves around the people she loves.
Tonks remained silent, watching him, feeling the weight of each word sink in.
—The Weasleys have something special —he went on, eyes drifting toward the fire—. That connection, that way of looking after one another… it doesn’t happen by accident. It’s the kind of commitment that’s born when someone is willing to give everything for the people they love. It must be hard… and sacrificial, yes, but, as you said earlier…
His voice faded to a whisper, as if he hesitated to reveal the rest.
—It must also be… nice.
Tonks rested her chin on her hand, her gaze never leaving him.
In her expression lived a mixture of melancholy and longing, as if she understood better than anyone what it meant to feel alone in a room full of people.
—Do you think it’s worth it? —she asked in a soft murmur.
Lupin raised his eyebrows, pulled from his thoughts.
His eyes stayed fixed on the flames, searching there for an answer he couldn’t quite find within himself.
—I’m sure it is —he said at last, with a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes—. Though not all of us are lucky enough to find something like that.
Silence settled between them again.
For a moment, Lupin seemed on the verge of saying something more. His lips parted… but the thought hung unfinished in the air.
Instead, he offered a small, faint smile, as if he realized he had already said too much.
—Good night, Tonks —he murmured kindly, rising from his seat.
—Good night, Remus —she replied, her voice low.
He nodded and disappeared into the shadows of the hallway, leaving behind a quiet space in the kitchen.
The sense of a conversation that could have gone further… but, for now, remained suspended in the air.
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Tonks closed the door of her flat with a soft click and dropped her maroon uniform over the nearest chair.
A long sigh escaped her lips, heavy with resignation and relief, as if it could shake off the weight of the day as well.
She kicked off her boots lazily and rolled her shoulders with an exaggerated grimace, on the verge of muttering a “Merlin, my Auror bones…” even though no one was there to hear her.
Her coat, meanwhile, slipped down the back of the chair and lay sprawled across the seat, as if confirming—quite defeated—that its workday was over too.
The flat was dark and quiet. Only the moon, peeking through the curtains, cast playful shadows across the floor.
When her eyes brushed over her coat again, something stirred in her memory.
She rummaged through the pockets and pulled out a photograph, its corners softened with wear: the three Black sisters, posing with that unmistakable blend of glamour, drama, and buried family secrets.
She held it between her hands, her fingers tracing the worn edges gently.
—I’m talking way too much lately —she muttered to herself, half incredulous, half amused.
And it was true.
Between her musings about the Black lineage, the childhood memories she had shared in Grimmauld Place’s underground library, and that conversation about love and longing with Molly earlier that afternoon… when had she started talking so much about her life?
She used to improvise, joke about everything, toss out a quip and sweep seriousness aside with a laugh. Lately, though, the words escaped her before she could stop them.
She ran a hand through her hair and let out a short laugh.
—I’m getting older —she murmured—. More thoughtful. Dangerous.
And of course, all those conversations had one thing in common: Remus Lupin.
Being near him was far more pleasant than she would have expected—and not just because of the shared laughter, the chaotic warmth of the Weasleys, or Sirius’s banter.
Ever since he had trusted her with his secret—his condition as a werewolf—something between them had shifted.
Though the confession had been difficult for both, Tonks felt that, finally, their relationship flowed naturally.
There was something in his presence that made her feel at ease, grounded.
And in the way he listened.
That, and the way he sometimes looked at her… as if he saw beyond what she said. As if he understood things she herself couldn’t yet name.
She lit the living room lamp with a flick of her wand and padded barefoot to the kitchen. She retrieved a half-forgotten bottle of wine from behind a box of cereal, studied it with mild suspicion, and poured herself a glass without ceremony.
She walked to the window. Outside, London’s rooftops slept under the moonlight, and everything had that quiet, slightly magical air she loved about the night.
Tonks had never been a melancholic person.
Her life had always been full of movement: Quidditch matches, Auror missions, outings with friends.
Now, patrols with the Order, endless watches, meetings that stretched on forever. And between one shift and the next, her unwavering determination to keep her spirits high.
Even so, there were nights when the silence pushed her to think more than she wanted.
She remembered the relationships she had had: kind, pleasant boys who left good memories but never sparked anything truly deep. And one girl as well. All perfectly fine stories… but none that felt meant to last.
It wasn’t that she felt lonely or empty or anything like that. Tonks had never needed anyone to feel complete.
But deep down, there was that subtle, almost hidden desire to know what it meant to love for real.
Not like in fairy tales, nor like in picture-perfect books.
To give yourself without fear.
To jump into the void with the certainty that someone would catch you.
To build something as solid as what Molly and Arthur had created.
A family, a home.
A longing she suspected Remus Lupin understood all too well.
She took a sip of wine and lifted her gaze toward the bright moon.
She rested her forehead against the cold glass. She thought about that afternoon, about what had been said. And what hadn’t.
Remus spoke of the Weasleys as though he had nothing like that.
As if no one waited for him at the end of the day.
As if the Order were his only family.
And the closest thing to a home, those grey walls they now shared.
How strange, she thought, that someone like him—so reserved, so quiet—had let slip, even for an instant, something so similar to what she felt.
Was he searching for the same thing?
That kind of quiet, steady love… a place to return to?
—Definitely thinking too much —she muttered with a half-laugh, setting the glass on the counter.
She switched off the lamp and lingered a moment in the dimness, letting the flat breathe around her.
Then she sat on the sofa, pulled her knees up to her chest, and rested her chin on them.
There was something about Lupin that awakened a quiet curiosity in her, a persistent pull that made her want to stay a little longer.
She wanted to reach the man hidden behind that mask of calm.
The one who carried an entire world inside him—visible only in fleeting details, like a carefully chosen phrase, a warm amber glance held a second too long, or a small smile that faded before it truly appeared.
She wondered if anyone had ever managed to break through the barriers protecting him from the world, but also trapping him. Those walls felt as much a defense as a burden.
What would become of him the day he decided to open them?
A part of her—a part growing quietly—felt the increasing urge to climb that wall, peek inside, maybe even reach out a hand to him… and lead him out.
Where the wind blew freely.
Where he could finally be unbound.
She looked at the moon once more and felt—without knowing why—that he was looking at it too, somewhere out there.
She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, nor what role Remus would play in her story.
But she wanted more moments like the one they’d shared that afternoon.
More shared silences, more silly comments that turned unexpectedly profound.
Not because she was missing anything.
But because with him, every encounter seemed to illuminate a part of herself she hadn’t yet discovered.
And that, simply put, was worth it.
She turned off the living room light and headed for the bedroom.
Just before closing her eyes, an image crossed her mind: a tired smile on a serious face.
She smiled too. Small. Honest.
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AUTHOR’S NOTE:
And that’s where we’ll stop for today.
One of my main goals with this story has always been expanding the world of Aurors.
I picture them training, studying, pulling endless shifts… basically the magical version of a medical residency: exhausting, full of night duties, full of camaraderie… and also a place where, sometimes without meaning to, life and heart get tangled together.
And then, of course, we move into something more personal.
After writing this chapter, I found myself thinking about something:
What do you think about love?
Do you believe everyone gets the chance to meet their soulmate?
I don’t. Some people spend their whole lives alone.
And some people simply never realize that their soulmate is right there beside them.
Tonks, clearly, is starting to think more than she usually does.
And Remus… well. Remus hears even what isn’t said out loud.
You can see the illustration for this chapter on my socials —come visit me on Instagram or TikTok.
All my links are here:
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