A Likely Story

She awoke at five from the bed sinking down as the person beside her sat up. A torch lit in its sconce, and she turned her head to look at his back. He was every bit as pallid and bony as she expected, his pale skin marred by some odd scars in addition to the Dark Mark. And he'd been surprisingly energetic for a man at the end of an eighteen-hour day.

For two years, Tonks had shared the apartment in Earls Court with a fellow Auror. He was handsome, charming, and a bit of a rogue, reminding Tonks of her cousin Sirius from what she could remember of him before Azkaban. He lavished her with romantic attention, taking her to the finest restaurants in both Muggle and wizarding London, giving her jewelry on every holiday where a gift might be expected, conjuring candy and flowers, and so forth. But in bed, he considered himself an expert on the female body, rebuffing her attempts to tell him what she liked. As far as she was concerned, being licked on her neck felt like she was being greeted by someone's out-of-control dog, and having fingers roughly shoved inside her was no better than a visit to a sadistic gynaecologist. After months of holding out hope that he was capable of making love in a way that wasn't boring or painful, she broke up with him. Their coworkers were alternately astonished with her, and sympathetic with him.

And now she was voluntarily entering a bedroom with a man who wouldn't buy flowers unless they were useful in a potion.

He spelled off their clothes in a single perfunctory gesture and waved at the bed. Shivering, she climbed under the covers to find he had applied a Warming Charm. She started to speak, but he had climbed on top of her, silencing her with a finger to her lips. He looked deep into her eyes. She was thinking about sex with an ex-boyfriend, making it plain to him what she didn't want, but he kept doing it anyway. What a prat. Surely any intelligent man would find pleasing a woman much more of an intriguing challenge than merely brutalising her. He tried to look farther into her mind, but she was telling him what she liked with her body. He allowed the last vestiges of his mental discipline slip away, and reveled in sheer sensation.

"What time is it?" she asked sleepily.

His head snapped around. "Just after five," he replied.

Standing, he crossed the room and vanished through a wall, emerging seconds later wearing a robe. "Still in bed?" he inquired silkily. "We have to be at Headquarters in under an hour."

She sat up, shivering. "It's freezing in here."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, that makes it easier to get up, don't you think? The cold motivates you to get dressed and get moving." He sat back down on the edge of the bed to put shoes on. Bending down cautiously, he was gratified to discover that he could easily double over and touch the floor. His back hadn't felt this good in ages. Makes sense, he thought. If extreme pain damages the back, then perhaps the reverse... She had thrown the covers off and was stretching her naked self sinuously on his sheets. She was not fat, but definitely was heavier than most of the forms she took voluntarily. He never understood why women always wanted to be thinner. They carried any extra weight in all the right places.

"Makes me want to stay in the warm bed," she said.

He shifted on the bed to run a hand over the ample curve of her hip. "You probably shouldn't accept so much chocolate from the Headmaster," he said, standing, and easily ducked the flying pillow, which disappeared through the same portal through which he had gone to fetch his clothes.

She looked towards the part of the room where the pillow had vanished. "Why do you Disillusion your wardrobe?" she asked as she climbed into her clothes.

He shook his head. "I don't. These rooms are the old torture chambers. The doors and connecting corridors are disillusioned so that each room appears to have no way out. My wardrobe is just inside the next room. It gets too cluttered, having all my things in here."

She chuckled and asked, "Why do you live...who builds a torture chamber in a school, anyway?"

"The former Slytherin head's rooms are next to an exterior wall, and I can't have that. As for the torture chamber, in the past, the Board of Governors had...less complicated attitudes towards student discipline."

"The good old days, huh?"

"Indeed." He retrieved his wand and put it somewhere in his robes. "A little trauma helps children achieve a greater degree of emotional depth than if they haven't suffered."

"That's a very interesting rationalisation."

"For what?" He smirked. "I would be permitted to hex your cousin in self-defense, you know." Tonks blinked at the sudden left turn in the conversation.

"Why would Sirius attack you...?" She looked at the messy bed in sudden realisation, and turned back to him with some alarm. "You wouldn't dare!" She stabbed an accusatory finger at him. "If you told Sirius about this, he might do something that wouldn't just hurt him..." Her voice trailed away as his grin grew wider, to the point where he appeared to be mimicking a certain amphibian Headmistress. She placed her hands on her hips. "That's not funny."

"Yes it is." He jerked his head. "This way." She followed him through a different wall from the one leading to his wardrobe and they were in a corridor of indefinite length, torches lighting only just ahead of them. "Better change to Auror Tonks," he said. "We'll be outside soon." He glanced down at her body. "And the student robes will fit you better."

"Bastard," she hissed, morphing into her Auror Tonks appearance.

"Irrelevant," he retorted, gesturing dismissively as he set off down the corridor.

"Wotcher, Sirius," greeted Tonks as she entered the kitchen at 12 Grimmauld Place, closely followed by Snape. Sirius' smile disappeared when he saw Snape. In contrast, Snape smiled broadly at Sirius, who in return looked angry and a bit nervous.

Sirius looked uneasily away from Snape. "I've made tea," he said to Tonks.

"Thank you," said Snape. Sirius flinched. Snape fetched two cups and filled them. "Tonks? If I recall, you take almost as much sugar as Albus." He spooned sugar into one of the cups and handed it to her, simultaneously pulling out a chair in an exaggerated gesture of chivalry.

"What are you playing at?" growled Sirius. Snape grinned in reply, sipping his tea.

Remus Lupin appeared in the doorway, a petite, dark-haired woman at his side. Remus looked questioningly at Tonks, who was mouthing, "Stop it!" at Snape.

The dark-haired woman glanced from Sirius to Snape and rolled her eyes. She walked around Remus, setting a covered basket on the kitchen table before whisking away the tea towel.

"Manon! You brought croissants!" exclaimed Tonks, happy for the diversion, as well as the food. She was suddenly aware that she was very hungry.

"Manon," said Snape curtly.

"Severus," acknowledged the Beauxbatons Potions mistress in a slight French accent. "Another evil scheme hatching according to plan?"

He grinned unpleasantly. "You don't know the half of it." And he took a croissant, tearing at it ravenously with his teeth while everyone watched in astonishment.

"Erm...I'm starving," said Tonks, taking another croissant and almost knocking over the basket in the process. "Breakfast at Hogwarts doesn't start for another hour."

"Doesn't it now?" remarked Remus, looking from Snape to Tonks, a slight smile on his face. To Manon he remarked, "First time I've ever seen him eat anything outside Hogwarts."

Sirius said, "Yes, Molly's cooking must seem impossibly humble to someone so accustomed to dining at the Malfoy's."

"Indeed," said Snape smoothly. "The roast Hippogriff last Saturday was particularly excellent. Lucius asked if I would like to bring back some leftovers for the dog, but I said we don't like to spoil him."

Sirius leapt to his feet, brandishing his wand, but Tonks interposed herself between Sirius and Snape. "That will do," said Tonks in a mild but firm tone reminiscent of Dumbledore.

Sirius' glare shifted between Tonks and Snape. "Why are you protecting him?"

"I'm protecting both of you," she replied in the same mild tone.

Sirius gestured aggressively at Snape with his wand. "If I find out..." he began.

"You'll do what?" interrupted Snape smoothly, brushing crumbs off his hands.

The kitchen door opened and a multitude of Order members began to enter, conjuring chairs as they sat. Snape made himself a chair in the corner, and Tonks sat as far away from him as she could get while still remaining in the kitchen. When Sirius' back was turned, shifting some chairs to make more space, Remus flashed Tonks a brief, wolfish grin, and she did her best to look puzzled as the meeting started.

"I'm glad you have seen your way clear to realise the shortcomings of these communication mirrors," Snape was saying.

"I always thought they were a bad idea."

"This from a man who thinks bathing is a bad idea," muttered Sirius under his breath. But his voice carried farther than perhaps he had intended in the quiet kitchen, and several Order members shot him sharp glances.

Dumbledore and Snape studiously ignored Sirius. "But Severus," Dumbledore was saying. "What if your wand is taken away from you? For this reason, I have not disabled the emergency beacon function of these mirrors."

Snape replied, "But if something happens to me, you can't do anything." Dumbledore replied, "At least we will know something has happened, and you're not simply in a situation where, for instance, you're surrounded by Muggles and can't Apparate.

Snape shuddered. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

"Speaking of mishaps," queried Emmeline Vance. "What the hell is going on at the school?"

Dumbledore smiled enigmatically. "Just a little creative mayhem that helps make the Ministry's position at the school a little more complicated."

"Besides," added Minerva McGonagall, "We see a little exuberance amongst the students at the end of every school year. The stress of final exams, OWLs, NEWTs, and so forth, makes them act out a bit."

Snape scowled and said nothing. Hestia Jones said, "Don't all those practical jokes fly in the face of the more diplomatic approach you keep exhorting?"

"Why, Hestia, surely you're not implying we have anything to do with student hijinks," said Minerva, smiling. "Then to make it credible, you'd better start punishing them more," said Snape. "If we don't, Umbridge will, and she won't be as nice as I am."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Sirius, his gaze alternating between the Hogwarts teachers, his voice rising in frustration. "You lot keep hinting at all these dire punishments being meted out by Umbridge. I think I have a right to know!"

Minerva shot a brief, poisonous look at Snape. Sirius stood, waving a finger accusingly. "I SAW THAT! BLOODY FUCKING MERLIN, HE'S MY GODSON!!"

"That will do, Sirius," said Dumbledore firmly.

"'THAT WILL DO?' HARRY'S BEING TORTURED BY SOME SADISTIC BUREAUCRAT, AND THAT'S ALL YOU CAN SAY?" Sirius shrieked. Everyone sat transfixed as Sirius ranted, Snape gloated, and Dumbledore and Minerva looked to each other for ideas on how to handle this.

Then Dumbledore fixed his piercing gaze on Tonks, and suddenly she knew what to do. She crossed the room and threw her arms around Sirius. He irritably tried to push her away, but she insisted, and he relented, standing in her embrace rather stiffly, a sullen expression on his face as she began to speak.

"Sirius," she began. "Umbridge tried to question Harry using Veritaserum. If she were willing to torture him, what would she need Veritaserum for?"

"Really?" gasped Molly.

"That woman is a disgrace to the Ministry," growled Mad-Eye Moody, and the other Aurors nodded their ascent.

"The Ministry is a disgrace to itself," muttered Snape.

"Veritaserum? Is that supposed to make me feel better?" snapped Sirius.

"Well, of course Severus gave her fake Veritaserum." Tonks glared at Snape. "He drops these supposed 'hints' in the course of being his usual bastard self, having some fun at your expense." Her anger wasn't entirely feigned.

Neither was Snape's as he stomped across the kitchen, slamming the door with a wood-splintering crash. Moments later, there was a second, muffled thud as the front door was violently slammed. Mrs Black and the other portraits began shrieking their protests but quickly quieted down at the sight of no-one in the hallway.

With Snape gone, Sirius' anger began to abate. He seemed to shrink slightly in Tonks' arms, and she was shocked at how thin he was. And he smelled none too good, like a mixture of sweat, stale drink, and musty old furniture. He allowed Tonks to sit him back down without resisting.

In the awkward silence that followed, Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Before we adjourn, I would like to reiterate that we have to keep working at maintaining some sort of diplomatic relationship with the Ministry. I know how hard that is, but we can't afford a war on two fronts. If we take the high road in the face of Umbridge's high-handed excesses, we can only win by gaining more support at the Ministry."

"At the expense of the students," muttered Sirius miserably.

"Minerva and I will continue to ensure the safety of the students," said Dumbledore evenly.

Arthur put an arm around Sirius' shoulders. "Behind the wards at Hogwarts, under Dumbledore's watchful eye, Harry couldn't be anyplace safer," he said. "Knowing our younger children are there helps Molly and I sleep more easily."

Sirius was looking at his feet. "You're right." He raised his head to address everyone, who were now filing out of the kitchen. "Erm...I'd like to apologise for behaving like a complete madman."

"Can't say I blame you," growled Moody, and there were similar sentiments expressed about the kitchen.

********************

"A diplomatic relationship with the Ministry," snorted Snape. "Diplomacy is nothing more than lying to a pack of fools because they have something you want. And what does it accomplish, besides convincing idiots that they are anything other than the completely ignorant tossers they cannot help being?"

Tonks grinned over her cup of potion. "Just as I was beginning to wonder why Dumbledore didn't bring you along on the diplomatic missions."

He looked up from the ever-present heap of parchments on his desk and scowled at her, but she was sure she could see a twinkle of mirth in those dark eyes. "Better finish up and get out of here. I'm expecting Potter in twenty-five minutes. The longer you stay, the more likely it is he'll show up early. Trust me; that's how it works with Potter."

She drained her glass, grimaced, and shuddered. The apothecary in Diagon Alley made a much better-tasting version, but how was she to know she'd need Contraceptive Potion on this mission? "Ugh! This is the worst I've ever tasted."

"You're welcome. Now go." He cleared his desk and carefully set the Pensieve down upon it.

She stood and handed him the empty cup. "Can't you add sugar to it?"

He banished the cup to a shelf with an irritated gesture and shrugged. "You can add sugar to it if you wish."

Tonks snorted. "You might have said something before I drank it."

He grinned sardonically. "Just being my usual bastard self. Now get out of here, before you end up having to invent some excuse for being in my office for the whole of Gryffindor House."

She morphed into her student appearance while he unwarded his office door. "I could tell them the truth."

He rolled his eyes and opened his office door with a flick of his wand. "Go. Away."

"And good evening to you, too."

She received a call several hours later, well after curfew. Exhausted, she had gone to bed early, and took several sleep-muddled seconds to find her wand before she could erect a Silencing Charm around her bed and answer the call.

"There you are!" said Snape. He had a maniacal look in his eyes, his hair wild about his face. "How soon can you get down here?" he demanded, his speech faster than usual, an hysterical edge to his voice.

"Wotcher, Severus," she croaked. Then she was wide awake. "What's happened? Are you hurt?"

"Of course I'm not hurt," he snapped. "Are you a healer?"

Despite the late hour, some students were still in the Common Room. Tonks contemplated the problem of sneaking past them while edging closer to the portrait hole. At the last second, a student looked up from his book and stared straight at her. Then he grinned and gave her a thumbs-up. Tonks grinned back and slipped out through the portrait hole, grateful she was not a Ravenclaw.

Snape's dungeon office was dim and cold, but usually clean and orderly. Tonks walked in on chaos. Broken glass and dead insects crunched underfoot, and it looked as if he'd cleared an entire jar-laden shelf without magic. He'd cut his thumb and was about to put it in his mouth, fingers dripping blood and potion, but thought better of it, instead taking out his wand. Tonks vanished the potion from his hand and used a simple Healing Charm on the cut. She took his hand in both of hers and turned it over to look for more injuries, but he snatched it away and began to pace up and down, heedless of the mess underfoot.

"I'm supposed to be grateful it was THAT memory he saw. If it was one of the others, we would have had to Obliviate the little fucker," he hissed.

"He didn't!" exclaimed Tonks, aghast, staring at the Pensieve on his desk.

"He did!" retorted Snape, leaning against his desk on his newly-mended hand. Her sympathy seemed to mollify him slightly, and he recovered himself enough to vanish some of the mess on the floor.

"So...he didn't see..."

"He didn't see me groveling before the Dark Lord, or pulling up my sleeve in front of Dumbledore..."

Judging from the extent of the mess, he'd been furious for hours, but his rage now seemed to have spent itself and was resolving into a brooding misery. He righted an upended chair and sat down upon it, rubbing his left forearm absently before he began to speak.

"Potter's father was part of a gang of Gryffindor bullies who tormented Slytherin students," he began.

"You mean the Marauders? But weren't they about Remus and his lycanthropy?"

"Helping the werewolf was only an excuse, a justification for anything else they did. They thought themselves above the rest of us. I was the only student who refused to be intimidated by them, which almost got me killed."

"So...did Harry see the time you almost got eaten by Remus?"

"No, I don't bother removing that memory. He already knows about it, doesn't he? And it might be educational for him if he happened to stumble across it and see things from my perspective for a change. No, he saw something else. And I don't want to talk about it." He leaned his elbows upon his desk and rested his chin on his hands.

After watching him a moment, Tonks turned her back on him and began to clear away the mess on the floor, vanishing what was irretrievably destroyed and repairing what could be salvaged.

Then he was behind her, grasping her forearms. "I didn't bring you down here to tidy up," he murmured. Warding his office door, he began to push her towards the portal that lead to his private chambers. Pausing, he hissed, "Grow up, will you?"

"What??" she retorted indignantly. "You're telling ME to...oh!" She morphed into her adult appearance. "And you don't have to drag me."

She began to walk beside him when he stopped, an odd expression on his face, a mixture of vexation and something she couldn't read. They glared at each other a moment, his eyes narrowed, her eyes widening in comprehension.

"On the other hand," she said. "I'm rather tired after getting up so early this morning." And she turned as if to leave.

"Then I'm going to have to take your wand away from you," he whispered. Disarming her deftly, he resumed dragging her across the dungeon. He was surprisingly strong for one so thin, and she was able to put up a fair fight.