Nymphadora

The party now was winding down, and parents were arriving in cars and on broomsticks to pick up their children. Mrs. Thomas, driving an old station wagon, looked quite bewildered at the sight of the haphazard house and multitude of wizards and witches.

"I better be off then," said Dean, catching sight of his mum, and he went off to find Ginny.

"The cover is blown!" growled Moody, clumping up to Tonks. His beady, dark eye bored into her as his magical eye scanned the sky above suspiciously.

"That's just the Finnegans, Mad-Eye," replied Tonks, shaking her head and watching the couple descend gracefully into the Weasleys' garden. "You know the months of shielding we put on this place. No one but those who were invited can Floo, Apparate, or fly in."

Moody grumbled to himself, but as he was in charge of protection the Burrow from the start of the plans, he knew it was secure.

"I'm going to go say good-bye to Lavender and Parvati," announced Hermione heavily, as if she really dreaded it. She stood up and moved her chair back, and then went to extract Ron from her dorm mates.

"You best be off," said Tonks to Harry, standing up and knocking over her chair. "We'll clean up."

"Right," replied Harry, putting his hands in his pockets.

He felt a rather unusual feeling now that that he had finally experienced his first birthday party. Even though he shared the occasion with Neville, it still felt odd that all of his friends had given him so much attention and so many presents on one day. There were three red practice Snitches from Ron, a rather smart scarf and hat knitted by Hermione, a box of sugar quills and jelly slugs from Neville, a palm-sized box that could hold a cubic foot from Seamus, and an exciting animated picture Dean had drawn of a Quidditch match between two very equal teams, so that every time Harry looked the other side was winning.

Fred and George had arrived with a literal bang! and promptly handed Harry a gift cheque for ten Galleons at Weasley Wizard Wheezes, Ron nearly crying in injustice ("Just wait, little brother," whispered a smirking George, "until your own birthday!"). Harry had the demanding task of writing thank-you notes before him, but fortunately the upcoming month at the Burrow would afford him plenty of time. The adults hadn't given him anything corporal, but the rescue from Privet Drive and the ensuing party was worth a hundred Galleons. Until -

"Oops, Harry, almost forgot," said Tonks. She haphazardly waved her wand at a neat pile of empty butterbeer jugs and in a small flash of purple light they rolled every which over the table. "Bollocks! I'll never get this cleaning bit right," she complained through gritted teeth, picking up three bottles from the ground.

"Um, you wanted something?" prompted Harry.

"Right - yes -" she answered, making the bottles into a neat pile again. " - your birthday present."

"Oh, no, you don't -" he began to argue.

"You only turn sixteen once!" she protested, grinning. "No, it's not big. I didn't make or buy it or anything. But Dad wanted you to have it, so it's from him and me, and - well, you'll see in a second." Searching for something, she stuck her hand into her back pocket and had to put her arm in all the way to her elbow before finding it. "Here - now - tell me, who do you think once owned that?"

She presented her hand palm-up to Harry, and in it was a thin strap of black dragonhide twisted with a band of flexible, silver metal. It was only twelve or fourteen inches long, and it had a small silver clasp on one end with a loop of dragonhide on the other. Even though it was small and fine, it had a very potent appearance, and Harry was surprised at its weight when he took it from Tonks.

"When did he give it to you?" asked Harry, Sirius entering the conversation without any identification. Mrs. Weasley appeared and waved the butterbeer bottles away, humming merrily.

"He left it at Cecil Court before he ran off." Tonks yawned. "D-Dad found it a few days ago when he was looking for a pair of socks and I knew you'd like it."

"It's...." Harry looked at the unusual necklace in his hand with intrigue. "Wicked, I guess that's all I can say about it."

"I think he got that around the same time he got the m-motorbike," mused Tonks, yawning again. Mrs. Weasley seemed to pick up on the unspoken pronoun and found something a few tables over suddenly fascinating.

Harry closed his fingers around the present. He dearly yearned to wear it, but he was starting to fall asleep as well and he wanted to see it without drooping eyelids.

"Come on, mate, I see you're fading fast," said Ron, appearing next to Tonks. "You better get to bed soon, Mum and I aren't going to drag you up five flights of stairs if you fall asleep."

Harry chuckled and pocketed the necklace. "Right. Well, Tonks, thanks - thanks a lot for telling me about him. It made me feel a lot better, y'know?"

"Anytime, Harry," replied Tonks, shrugging. "Though I might start prattling on about myself again, you can just poke me with a stick and I'll stop."

Harry yawned loudly in reply.

"Oi, you're right out of it!" said Ron, and he nudged Harry towards the Burrow. The truth was, Harry had been so excited about the day that he had barely sleep the night before, and now it was taking its toll. He complied with Ron and walked towards the Burrow, waving Tonks goodbye.

"How sweet of you," said Mrs. Weasley, and Tonks turned in surprise. "Poor Harry got so close to his godfather in such a short amount of time that - it was - quite surprising." She sniffed, and Tonks felt sorry as well for Mrs. Weasley, who probably held a grudge against Sirius right up until the fight in the Department of Mysteries.

"'Night, Mrs. Weasley!" called Neville, being chivvied along by his formidable grandmother.

"'Night, Neville! Happy birthday! Oh, Mrs. Longbottom, the Floo's in the flowerpot. Here, let me show you -" Mrs. Weasley ran off to guide the Longbottoms to the fireplace. Tonks scratched her dreadlocks, which were beginning to bother her. With a slight change of mind, they smoothed out into black and pinkish-maroon curls framing her heart-shaped face. She stretched and was going to help Elphias Dodge bring a table inside when she noticed two dark shapes walking up the driveway.

"Hello?" called Tonks, walking towards the front gate. She undid the latch with her left hand and held her wand in her pocket tightly with her right. The dark shapes kept walking closer, too far to make out and possibly too far to hear her. Where was Moody and his magical eye when you really needed them? She stepped onto the dusty driveway, lit only by the Burrow's light and the waxing moonlight. "Hello?" she called again, more loudly.

"Hello!" said one of the people brightly, waving. "Is the party over?"

"Um, well, yes -" replied Tonks, looking around wildly. This was definitely not the greeting she was expecting. "Are you lost?"

"Not at all!" said the other person, a man as well. They both carried broomsticks. "This is my home."

"Fiends!" cried Moody, appearing out of the bushes with his wand raised menacingly.

"Mad-Eye! Since when are you Sir Cardogan?" replied Tonks.

"We're safe," said the second person, and now he was close enough Tonks could make out his orange hair and resemblance to the twins. "I'm Charlie Weasley; I'm a member of the Order, remember?"

"You weren't invited; how did you get in here?" asked Moody, incredulous.

"We walked." Charlie and his friend, a tall, thin, dark-haired man of about twenty-five, chuckled at Moody's aghast face.

"We tried to fly in - we have been flying from Romania since yesterday morning, we had a stopover in Lorraine - but every time we tried to land here it was like sliding on ice. So finally we landed a half of a mile away and walked in." The man had a soft Eastern European accent, but his English sounded very natural.

"Just - walked in?" repeated Moody, looking thunderstruck. "How come I didn't think of that?"

"Because the Death Eaters aren't the strolling type?" suggested Tonks.

"Sorry we didn't write to say we were coming, but Nic and I got the okay for these days off just last week," added Charlie. He looked towards the house, caught sight of his mum and signalled for her attention as he dashed towards her.

"So we really did miss the party?" asked Nic of Tonks, sounding very sad.

"I'm sure there's enough food and such inside," Tonks assured him. She turned to follow Charlie and tripped, and Nic caught her before she even hit the ground. "Thanks!" she said graciously, turning the same colour as her trousers. "I'm Tonks, by the way," she added, escorting him towards the Burrow.

"Nicolae Stanescu," he replied, falling into step beside her.

"Walked in!" muttered Moody viciously, trailing behind the others.

××××××××××××××××××××

"I'm so glad you're here, Charlie!" said Mrs. Weasley again, fixing Nic and her son a heaping plateful of every leftover from the party. "I was beginning to worry that I hadn't had word from you in so long."

"Well, I was sort of hoping my coming home would be a surprise, but apparently it was provided for," replied Charlie, grinning at Moody. Moody scowled.

"It was a good protection, though, Mr. Moody, so well done," Nic complimented, with one eye on the ex-Auror and another on the tottering pile of food on his forthcoming plate.

"And just remember, Mad-Eye, how else would Mrs. Thomas come?" added Tonks. She was sitting backwards in a corner chair of the kitchen, and appeared awake.

"I think we've had enough talk about the shielding, obviously it's held the night," said Emmeline Vance in a tone that clearly indicated she had had enough.

Mrs. Weasley placed the two platefuls of food before the new arrivals and added, "Most thankfully."

"Right. I think it's time we have a report from our foreign member of the Order, hm?" suggested Sturgis Podmore, who was stroking his chin.

"Oh, sure," said Charlie, thinking of where to begin. "Actually, I brought Nic so he could tell you about the reservation; he's one of the directors and knows the more about it than I do."

Nic looked like he was about to cry, but he put down his fork and spoke. "The Stanescu International Dragon Reservation is located in the centre of Romania, between the Muntii Buzaulu and Muntii Vrangei range. It is home to the world's population of Romanian Longhorns, and because of its climate, remote location, and size, we are also able to care for at least one of every pure-bred dragon specie."

"And there are wizards from everywhere there?" asked Hestia.

"Yes, from the Antipodes to the Caribbean, there are witches and wizards from all over the world who go there to do research. Because our dragons are so well-cared for and their environment is re-created so expertly, many times it is easier for researchers to travel to Romania to study their homeland species."

"Wait a minute - Stanescu International Dragon Reservation?" asked Tonks.

"It's been in my family for four decades." Nic smiled at her.

"So have you been getting the word out, Charlie?" asked Mrs. Weasley, expectantly. Nic quickly took the opportunity to tuck in and Tonks quickly took the opportunity to giggle to herself like a thirteen-year-old.

"As much as I can when I'm not wrestling Horntails." Charlie shrugged apologetically. "I try to warn people about You-Know-Who coming back, but it's only of concern to the Europeans because they can still remember it. I tried to tell my South African friend Arda Krueger about the threat of a British Dark wizard and she laughed!"

"That's what Dumbledore fears," said Dedalus Diggle sadly.

"Besides, it's not like I can hand out flyers, can I?" continued Charlie, getting annoyed. "Nic's been a great help dealing with the administrators but I still have to watch my step. Most of the time I have no clue as to the intentions of the visitors. What if there's a Death Eater posing as a researcher who'll kill me as soon as I mention You-Know-Who?"

"Then you take it!" growled Moody. "Are you a member of the Order or not? Your top priority is to get the word out on You-Know-Who! That's the whole reason we reinstated it!"

"Well, it's not like people don't know it now," interjected Tonks. "Didn't we accomplish our mission already? Isn't there now a guide to protecting yourself from dark wizards in every wizarding household in Britain?"

"But not every wizarding household in Europe, not every wizarding household in the world," Emmeline remarked wisely. There was a halt in the conversation, and everyone looked back at Charlie expectantly.

"Oh, all right," he replied conclusively. "I understand. I guess I haven't been as attentive to the Order as I should have been. But now that we know You-Know-Who's back - I mean, now everyone knows - it's going to be a lot easier to explain things to the visitors."

"So do make sure you do that," remarked Kingsley, blinking slowly.

"I will help, of course," said Nic, swallowing a mouthful of corned beef. "It will be a lot easier for me, anyway. Charlie is always busy tending to the dragons. I could add it to my tour. 'On your left is a beautiful female Peruvian Vipertooth. Hands outside the pens, please. On your right is our new acquisition, a male Swedish Short-Snout. Please be on the lookout for any nasty Dark wizards intent on destruction.' "

A chuckle went round the room, followed by a sleepy silence broken only by Nic and Charlie's munching.

Hestia looked at her wristwatch and shook her head. "I can't believe I have to be at the store in six hours. Well, I must get going."

Nearly all of the adults stood up and agreed in a rumbling chorus of "And I"'s. Farewells were exchanged, and Mrs. Weasley led them to the fireplace, hoping that she had enough Floo to get everyone who didn't feel like Apparating home safely. Soon, only Tonks, Charlie, and Nic were in the kitchen, the latter already nearly done with his plate.

"Did you eat at all since Romania?" asked Tonks, astonished.

Nic smiled. "I have a very fast stomach and I am almost always hungry." He polished off his last chunk of boiled chicken and wiped his fingers on the napkin. "Your mother is a very excellent cook, Charlie. I have to thank her."

Charlie nodded through his asparagus, and Mrs. Weasley reappeared in the kitchen. "Now, Nic, Charlie, I put Ron and Harry in Ron's room with the spare bed frame, so Nic's going to have to sleep on the floor - oh, Tonks! Oh, dear." She looked down into the flowerpot, perturbed. "I just used the last of Floo . Do you mind Apparating all the way to London?"

Tonks bit her lip. She had qualified for her Apparating license on her 17^th birthday without a hitch and somehow never really used it much since then. It had been years since her last go at it. Ottery St. Catchpole wasn't terribly far from London, but after so long, and her being so tired again, she was nervous about tempting a splinch. But she also didn't want to be rude, Mrs. Weasley obviously didn't have enough room for her to spend the night and she had to get to the Ministry the next morning -

"Do you fly well?" asked Nic, leaning back in his chair and fixing his pale eyes on Tonks.

"Do I - er - what?" replied Tonks, getting addled from Nic's gaze and her lack of sleep.

"She's excellent," answered Charlie, shovelling mash onto his fork. "Chaser for her house fifth through seventh year, isn't that right?"

"Yes. Yes," said Tonks, rubbing her eyes and focusing her tired brain. "Yes, I fly well."

"You can borrow my broom, if you would like. I just need it back by the day after tomorrow."

"Oh!" Tonks replied stupidly. "Oh, wow, sure, that would be excellent."

"Great!" Nic rose and retrieved his broomstick, a well-trimmed Comet 290. "If you are ever disoriented, I am leaving the compass on the shaft." He pointed out the small clip as Tonks took the broom from him and admired it, remembering her own Comet 260 at home.

"Well, wow...thanks," stammered Tonks, overwhelmed by the broom and the terribly thoughtful stranger. "I, er, I guess I better be off then?"

"Right you are," said Mrs. Weasley, escorting Tonks from the room. She recognised the slightly fish-eyed look of someone who might never leave the room on their own power. They made it all the way to the front door with Tonks tripping over her feet only once. On the front steps, with the door closed Mrs. Weasley chuckled. "Oh dear, it sure looks like someone fancies you, Nymphadora!"

The cool night air and the sudden use of her first name woke Tonks up out of her miniature daze. "You know not to call me that, Molly," she protested, only half-serious.

"I think it's a beautiful name."

"I think it's a ridiculous name. 'Nymph' is bad enough without the 'adora' on it! Like I'm some sort of adorable forest spirit!"

Mrs. Weasley smiled serenely. "I'm glad you've taken your ability to look like whomever you wish with care. While you may not see it now, you have an inner beauty that you've chosen to ignore in favour of your...erm...more obvious countenance." She tugged on a curly lock of black and pink hair in demonstration, but Tonks didn't quite catch on. "Many would use a glamorous appearance to their advantage, but you've kept true to yourself. And because of that, the beauty inside of you shines all the more brightly."

Tonks got it then, but she still didn't know quite what to say in reply. What could she say? "So - you think - Nic and I -?"

Mrs. Weasley laughed. "Don't worry about that - you've got better and less obvious things to think about than him." There was a second's pause. "But, of course!"

Tonks smiled, and then Disillusioned herself. "I really must get going - work in five hours!" She shook her head, but she knew Mrs. Weasley couldn't see her well enough in the dark to catch the gesture. "Thanks for everything."

"No problem, dear," she replied, looking over Tonks's left shoulder. "Don't forget, bring Nic's broom back!"

"You know I won't forget to!" Tonks kicked off into the cold night air and the shining stars spread out around the moon, and for the first time in a long time, she felt very, very happy.