A Long Memoried Woman

"Grandma! Grandma! Tell us a story!"

The old women laughed, amused at the eagerness of the three children crowded round her. "Tell you a story? About what?"

The eldest, a tall, strawberry-blond haired girl in her early teens, leaned against the chair her Grandmother sat in. "Tell us about your past."

"About the war!" Her younger brother chimed in. "Tell us about how you fought in the war, and about the Order of the Phoenix!"

"You can't be interested in that. It all happened so long ago...." The old woman paused, her voice trailing off. "I wasn't interested in history when I was a kid, you know."

"But Grandma.... you're a hero!"

"Heroine. Duh." His older sister gave him a withering look as she spoke, before turning back to her Grandmother. "If you can't remember, that's ok."

"Can't remember! I'll have you know, my memories are as clear as they ever were! Can't remember. Huh." The old lady huffed at them, pretending to be offended.

"Tell us then. Please Granny." The youngest of the trio spoke up for the first time, staring with an avid attention. The old woman's face softened as she reached down to stroke her fingers through the child's hair.

"It all happened such a long time ago. And things were very different then, very different indeed. And I was just a girl, really, although I thought myself all grown up."

"So tell us about it, please!" The children spoke up again, determined to get their story.

She leaned back in the chair, stretching her legs out in front of her. Taking a deep breath, and giving her grandchildren a gentle smile, she started to speak. "For me, it all started one fairly ordinary day......"

* * * * *

"Wotcher, everybody!"

"Wassup, Tonks!" I slapped my hand into Annie's, noting the disapproving frowns from the older Aurors around us.

"Nymphadora, you are late," said Old Scrimgeour, who had to be retiring soon. It wasn't my fault I was late. I'd tripped over my chair leg in the kitchen, smashing my bowl and sending cereal everywhere, and then the cleaning charm went wrong, and my owl arrived at just the wrong time with more post than usual, but who needed to know that?

"Sorry! Any emergencies gone down in which my presence would've been essential?" His scowl deepened. "Thought not."

Mainly because I was newly qualified and expertly clumsy, the vast majority of the other Aurors thought I was a hazard to be avoided at all costs. I mean, yesterday, all I did was copy out documents for someone whose quill had broken! And then accidentally tipped over his inkpot.

I think some of them were starting to wonder why I was here, and of what use I could possibly be. After all, I couldn't even be trusted to get the tea without spilling it!

I started to walk to my cubicle, but Annie grabbed my arm before I'd taken more than a few steps, and pulled me into hers. I was the youngest here, but she was second. I vaguely remembered her from Hogwarts - a Ravenclaw a year above me. She was the kind of girl I'd never have hung around with them, deeming her no fun, with her straight, deep red hair, serious brown eyes and glasses.

"So?" She spoke, giving me a teasing grin. "Why were you late?"

I groaned, dramatically rolling my eyes at her. "Just one of those mornings that make you wish you'd never bothered getting out of bed."

She nodded, stretching and giving me a wry grin. "You have them quite a lot, don't you Tonks?"

"Not my fault."

"Nah, of course it's not. I almost didn't get up this morning."

"How come?"

"Just couldn't be bothered. It's not like they give us anything important to do round here. There are too many of us, and not enough problems, that's the trouble. You hear all these people saying You-Know Who's back, but have you noticed any increased activity? Load of bollocks, if you ask me."

"Well, I'm sure that if you asked nicely, You-Know-Who would go on a destructive campaign and do lots of killing and maiming."

"Oh, shut up! They'd still probably leave us with the paper work anyway."

I laughed at her pouting expression. Unfortunately, that gained the attention of the more senior Auror at the next desk, who tutted and glared.

"Oops," I whispered. "Better go then. But I'll meet you for lunch, ok?"

"Ok, sure."

I walked away across the room, passing other Aurors. Most seemed to be busy at work, but some looked up with a smile and a wave. They weren't all bad.

I swung into my cubicle, and started drumming my fingernails against my desk. Of course, it wasn't half so effective and clicky as it would be if my nails were just that bit longer... I scrunched up my nose in concentration, watching as my nails grew longer, feeling the odd tense, tingling feeling I always felt grow under my skin. And what colour? Blue? Purple? Nah. Yellow, definitely not. Pink? That would work!

Examining my newly long and pink nails, I was surprised when someone gave a polite cough at the door to my cubicle.

"Are you doing anything?" Kingsley Shacklebolt's voice suggested he thought the scenario of me doing anything even vaguely useful was very unlikely. Twat.

"Not at this exact moment in time, no." I straightened some parchment on my desk, trying to make it look like he was very lucky to catch me at a time when I wasn't doing anything because I was normally super busy.

"Look over this for me, then. It's a report on, on, um... Muggle weapons. From Arthur Weasley. It's very important. Could help to catch Sirius Black. I want you to read through it, make notes on how effective these things are, and how likely it is that he'll be able to get one."

And he left. Just like that. No please, no thank you, just a 'do this'. Honestly, if I'd known this was what being an Auror was like, I'd have done something more exciting. Like, working in the Centaur Liaison Office.

Giving my best disgusted sigh, I plonked my feet up on my desk and settled down to read.

* * * * *

And read. By the time I'd even got halfway through, everyone else was packing up to leave. Course, as Annie had commented, my three-hour lunch break could've had something to do with my rate of work - but was it my fault departments had lunch at different times, and that lots of people wanted me to eat with them? And that the Muggle café down the street outside happens to have much nicer food? It was also that I could never concentrate when I was bored.

And it was boring! Most of it was useless, just Arthur Weasley going on about how fascinating Muggles are. Fascinating my arse. I'd never been so bored in my life!

I flicked onto the next page, feeling I should probably try to get just a bit more done before heading home. And then froze at the writing there.

This parchment was slightly different from the rest, slightly thicker, and of a slightly different colour. Enough to stand out if you were looking for it, not enough if you weren't.

But it wasn't the parchment that made my blood freeze. It was the writing on it.

Kingsley, the headquarters are finally open! Sirius swears that the basement is finally fit for human habitation. Molly's making meatballs to celebrate, come along.

You'd better burn this with the other, just to be safe. We're going to have to find a new way of communicating - this is just too risky.

I didn't recognise that handwriting, but it was obvious that it wasn't quill-written. It had to be Arthur Weasleys.

And Sirius? There was only one Sirius I knew of - the Sirius that I was reading this report to try and find, my mother's cousin, Sirius Black. The criminal, the murderer, that Kingsley was trying to track down! There had to be some mistake. Sirius was a rare name, but that didn't mean there wasn't another, not dangerous Sirius. He possibly worked in a shop. Completely harmless.

And headquarters - probably just slang, an in-joke. It couldn't mean headquarters as in, headquarters for an evil group of psychopaths who secretly worshipped You-Know-Who.

Kingsley couldn't be a traitor, could he? A Death-Eater? It had to be impossible. They screened Aurors for that kind of thing.

But what other explanation was there?

Should I give this to someone? Show them, and get it out of my hands? Except it wouldn't be. It would get out, that I'd passed it on, and how stupid would I look if it were harmless? I'd never get anywhere - maybe I was clumsy, but at least I was smart. If people thought I was stupid as well, I might as well marry my desk.

But what if it wasn't? Should I confront Kingsley myself? Surely that would be stupid - unless I did it in a public place. He couldn't kill me in a public place, could he?

Well, he could, but would he be stupid enough to?

Maybe I should sleep on it. I'd probably wake up, full of brilliant ideas as to what to do, and everything would magically solve itself without even a wave of my wand.

Yeah. That was the best plan.

* * * * *