Nymphadora Tonks and the Liquor of Jacmel

1. First Impressions

Monday, 6^th July 1994

Tonks tilted her head sideways and looked critically at her reflection in the mirror. Her current hairstyle had been selected carefully from a number of trials; it was brown, shoulder-length, with a slight curl at the ends. The idea behind this one was to look smart but conventional, the better to make a good first impression on the first day in her new job. It wasn't anything remotely like the styles she normally favoured, which tended to run to spikiness and eye-catching colours..

"Hmmm ... I don't know," she said meditatively. "What do you think?"

"It'll be fine, dear," replied the mirror patiently, for the fourth time that morning. "They don't really bother about how you look, do they? Didn't you say even the Minister wears a funny hat?"

Tonks smiled mischievously. "He probably thinks he looks like a typical Muggle businessman, but I bet not many of those wear green bowlers. Anyway, I don't suppose I'll run into anyone senior my first day." She gazed at her reflection thoughtfully. "You sure you didn't think this look was better?" Her face creased briefly, and her hair lengthened considerably and became silvery-blonde.

Mirrors weren't supposed to be able to cringe, but this one somehow managed to give the impression it was doing so. "No, I didn't. Just play it straight, you said. Try not to seem as if you're making a big entrance, you said. I wouldn't call your Veela look inconspicuous. You might as well go as Celestina Warbeck, sign autographs in the foyer, and have done with it." Mirrors weren't supposed to be sarcastic, either, but this one had had to put up with years of experimentation and agonising over questions most mirrors never had to bother with. Then again, most mirrors hung in the bedrooms of people who couldn't change their entire appearance on the slightest whim, and occasionally even the finest of looking-glasses had to be just a little terse with their owners.

Tonks blushed slightly. "Oh well, I guess you're right." The hair changed back to brown, and she strode out into the kitchen, feeling a little uneasy. Getting things right on her first day was very important to her.

Breakfast, she thought. Right. Yes. I really should at least have some breakfast before leaving. Good idea. Don't want to do this on an empty stomach. She waved her wand in the general direction of the bread-bin, with mixed results; several slices flew towards the toaster and bounced off, but eventually she guided a couple into the slots, and it started itself up automatically. Another jab of her wand started the kettle going, and Tonks leant back against the wall and closed her eyes. She hated to admit it, but there was a jumpy feeling in her stomach, and it wasn't caused by a Peppermint Toad.

Of course, if she'd known what the next few months would bring, she might well have been even more nervous. Then again, she might not. Nymphadora Tonks was an unusual young woman in many ways, even allowing for the fact that she was a witch.

Firstly, she was newly-qualified as an Auror, one of the elite of magical law enforcement, which was something she took great pride in. She'd dreamed of being an Auror for as long as she could remember; and still couldn't quite believe that she'd finally made it through the challenges of the training and the rigours of the examinations, let alone the misgivings about her motivations that she'd needed to face before the Ministry would even accept her onto the training course.

Well, at least I will be able to take great pride in it - just as soon as I get to work this morning, she reflected. Technically, she had become an Auror as soon as she passed the final examinations; but Tonks knew it wasn't going to feel like it until she actually started the job. It had to be this step into the unknown that was causing the uncharacteristic attack of nerves.

Secondly, she was a born Metamorphmagus, and so (unless seriously distracted) able to change her appearance at will. As far as she knew, Metamorphmagi were very rare; certainly none of her instructors in the Auror training classes had taught one before, and most of them had given the impression of working hard to avoid letting her know how highly impressed they were with what she could do.

She thought this talent was quite likely unique among current Ministry employees, and that it was probably going to be immensely useful to her in her new career. It had certainly got her past the Concealment and Disguise exams without any trouble at all. The slightly confused examiners, who had been expecting to test candidates on their skill at self-Transfiguration with a wand, had scratched their heads and finally decided that if she could change her appearance more easily without one, that was probably even better. They had shrugged, awarded her top marks, and passed on to the next candidate.

Thirdly, however, she was extremely clumsy, with an uncanny ability to trip over any solid object that happened to cross her path. In her more reflective moments, she sometimes wondered if this was actually connected to her Metamorphosing ability. It could sometimes be hard to sense where your feet were when your legs were six inches longer than usual.

Then again, even when she was in her normal, natural, everyday form, it still tended to happen, so she had eventually ruefully accepted that it was probably just the way she was. This 'talent' probably wasn't unique, but it promised to be a serious career handicap unless she took great care where she put her feet. It still made her wince to remember the near-disasters on the Stealth and Tracking practical during her final exams.

Tonks took as much time as possible over her toast and marmalade, but couldn't really work up an appetite. She checked the letter from the Ministry again for about the fourteenth time. It still said to be there to report to the Central Division commander's office at 9am. And it didn't ease her nerves that as far as she could tell, she would be the only one starting in the London office, actually in the Ministry itself. Her friends from Auror training seemed to have been scattered to postings all over the country.

When she'd forced down as much food as she could, she glanced up at the kitchen clock again. It was still showing only quarter-past eight, probably from sheer cussedness.

Tonks decided, after a few moments' thought, that she might just as well arrive bright and early. The longer she sat around at home waiting, the more nervous she was going to get. She looked around carefully to make sure that she had everything she needed. Wand. Check. Letter. Check. Brains. Check. She swung her cloak around her, intending to Apparate into work, then stopped the motion half-way through. It really wouldn't do to risk appearing on top of somebody, and looking like a complete idiot on her first day. No, a nice safe Floo journey seemed in order.

Tonks had needed to have her fireplace specially installed; non-wizarding flats generally didn't come with them as standard, and the landlord had asked a lot of funny questions about fire regulations before reluctantly accepting her statement that it was there purely for decorative purposes. It was probably the fact that it didn't actually connect to a chimney that swung it for her. "Incendio," she muttered, and a fire sprang up in the hearth. She grabbed a handful of powder and flung it into the flames, took a deep breath, and stepped in, with a loud shout of "Ministry of Magic foyer!". It was only then that it dawned on her that the usual spinning around associated with this means of transport wasn't going to help her feel any less queasy.

Still, it was a fairly short journey across London to the Ministry, so Tonks managed to emerge in one of the fireplaces lining the walls of the Atrium without feeling too dizzy. She carefully stepped out of the flames and started towards the main gates at the end of the long hallway. Unfortunately, she'd overlooked the raised edge of the grate - at least until it came to her attention when she tripped over it.

She shot forward as it caught her ankle, and tried desperately not to fall over, but couldn't help colliding with a older wizard who was hurrying across the foyer and paying no attention whatsoever to the people popping out of fireplaces. Both of them sprawled headlong on the polished floor, to the accompaniment of laughter from the other commuters arriving at the Ministry.

"Oh, sorry!" she cried, slightly flustered by this hitch in her plans. "It was the grate, I just forgot it was there, are you OK, I didn't mean to jump you, I mean fall on you, I'm dreadfully clumsy ..." At this point, her ears finally managed to get the message across to her brain that she was babbling, and she hastily clamped her mouth shut.

The wizard picked himself up somewhat gingerly. He'd obviously taken great care with his appearance, with a neatly trimmed toothbrush moustache, and pinstripe robes that had been perfectly pressed until they encountered Tonks. "Never mind, never mind, I haven't been hurt," he said brusquely. "Just be more careful in future. Some of us have to work here, you know." He brushed himself down and strode off at high speed towards the golden gates at the end of the hall, with Tonks following him dejectedly.

Somehow, they found themselves in the same lift. Tonks tried to ignore his pursed lips and obvious disapproval, instead concentrating on keeping an eye on the floor indicator, attempting to avoid the paper aeroplanes flying in and out, and trying to read the upside-down headline on somebody's folded copy of the Daily Prophet. Yet another sighting of Sirius Black. That only made about fifty in the past year.

She hoped fervently that the neatly-dressed wizard wasn't going to turn out to be her boss. Her luck held as he left three floors before her, to her considerable relief. That could have been worse, she thought. That could have been a lot worse. That really would have been a great start to my brilliant career.

She got out at Level Two and headed along the corridor. Exceedingly violent winds and rain were battering on the windows lining its walls; she stepped back in alarm for a moment before she remembered that they must be at least a hundred feet underground, the windows were magical, and there wasn't really a major natural disaster going on outside. On the other hand, the storm wasn't exactly helping to lighten her mood.

In front of the entrance to Auror Headquarters, she stopped for a moment to gather herself. She'd been in here before, of course, but only on guided tours and relatively short training exercises. This was the real thing. She couldn't quite make up her mind whether she wanted to stride in confidently as if she knew what she was doing, or edge in and hope no-one noticed her for a while. With another deep breath, and the feeling that whatever happened it was best to just get it over with, she pushed open the double doors and stepped in.

The noise hit her first; a general background of chatter, and on her left raucous laughter coming from a group of wizards and witches gathered around a cubicle. The occupant popped his head out as his audience turned to look at the newcomer; he was about thirty, perhaps, with his long hair tied in a ponytail, and wearing robes of an eye-hurting shade of scarlet.

"Hey, it's our newest recruit!" he cried. "Now that's more like what I signed up for. No offence meant to present company, of course." Two witches rolled their eyes. "Bentley Williamson's the name, Ben to those who know and love me."

"So that'll be no-one then?" said one of the witches (slightly too innocently) in a Welsh accent. "You must be Nymphadora Tonks - I'm Rhiannon Davies, a little bit senior to our Bentley here and far more sensible." She didn't look particularly senior, with an impish grin and a lot of curly blonde hair. "Welcome aboard, love, and don't let him put you off. All charms and no wand, look you!"

"Ouch. You are so cruel sometimes, Auror Davies. Anyone would think you didn't adore me really."

Tonks grinned. "Wotcher, Auror Williamson. I guess it's good training for the job. They told me I'd need to cope with all sorts of hideously unpleasant things." This feeble sally appeared to strike the right note, as the whole group, including Williamson, roared with laughter.

"Right, then, love, let me give you brief intros to the dream team here - you never know, you might be working with some of them," said Davies briskly. Williamson cheered and Davies rolled her eyes again. "Of course, if you're really lucky, you might not be. Anyhow, you've met Ben - I'm sorry he had to be the first person you saw, obviously. This is Eleanor Finchley." She indicated a plump witch with brownish hair, who smiled at Tonks pleasantly enough. "This ... rogue here is Donnacha O'Gregan." A dark-haired wizard grinned at her words and winked at Tonks; the obvious source of his name was backed up by a set of emerald-green robes with a large Ballycastle Bats badge pinned to the front of them. "And this is Arnold Cornworthy." A tall, slightly balding wizard with a hang-dog expression, he nodded at her.

"Did they tell you what I'll be assigned to?" asked Tonks hopefully.

"Not yet," said Davies with a shrug. "You're a bit early, aren't you? Tell you what, I'll take you up to the boss's office, he'll be glad to see you're making an early start. No doubt you'll see this bunch of reprobates around the place. If they aren't out visiting dodgy pubs disguised as a stray Crup, of course."

"Hey now, we only do that for work purposes!" called Williamson after them in a mock-insulted voice as she guided Tonks away. "And not more than once or twice a week! Well, three or four maybe. All right, five tops, unless it's a special occasion ..."

His voice faded out into the general background noise as they walked across the office. Rhiannon Davies introduced the Aurors in the cubicles that they passed, reeling off a series of names and current cases. Tonks tried to remember a few of them, but soon realised that her memorisation technique had gone rusty since she'd finished her final exams. Most of the Aurors glanced up to see who their new colleague was, and a few waved cheerily. A bald black wizard - Davies had called him something like Shackleton - looked at her with particular curiosity, and with what seemed to be (but probably only in her nervous imagination) a disapproving expression.

Davies stopped at the far end of the office in front of an oak door bearing a small brass plate reading "Commander of Aurors, Central Division, EGBERT CLAYMORE". Tonks suppressed a smile at the first name. It wasn't as if she was really in a good position to make jokes about such things.

"Claymore's a decent enough sort once he's convinced you can do the job - unless you really screw something up, of course," whispered Davies. If that was meant to be reassuring, it wasn't very effective. "Like I said, he should be pleased you've arrived for work nice and early. He's a stickler for duty himself; I'm not sure if he doesn't just Transfigure his desk into a bed and sleep here sometimes. Good luck."

Davies knocked on the door and a terse voice from within said "Come!".

"You're on, love," she said. "Try not to be put off if he's a bit brusque."

Tonks nodded; she'd recognised the name. And the voice. "I know. I've been on the receiving end of it before," she said shortly. "Thanks ... er, Rhiannon."

Rhiannon Davies raised her eyebrows in inquiry, but Tonks just took yet another deep breath (it seemed to be the morning for them) and stepped in. She wasn't really looking forward to meeting Claymore again. Not after the last time.

***

March 1991

Tonks had seen, as soon as she stepped into the interview room, that it had been carefully set up to feel intimidating. She sat on a chair in the middle of the room; the desks at which the other occupants were sitting were arranged around it in a semicircle, with two of them uncomfortably placed (for Tonks) on either side of her, just at the edge of her vision. All were slightly too far away for her to rest her hands or elbows on without stretching out and looking foolish.

"Good morning, Miss Tonks," said the woman in front of her in a brisk voice. A quill on the desk flipped itself upright and began to record the words as they were spoken. "Presiding: Amelia Bones, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Conducting the interview: Egbert Claymore, commander of the Central Division" - she indicated the man on her right, then turned to her left - "and Bruno Featherstone, head of Auror Training." She waved a hand at the people on either side of Tonks: "Additional observers: Auror Cassidy Brickell and Andrew Podmore of the Hall of Records. Egbert, do you wish to start?"

"Thank you, Amelia," said the wizard, who was slightly balding, with a grizzled moustache. His voice was gruff, with a hint of a Scottish accent. "Now then. Miss Tonks, as you know, this interview marks the final stage of your application for employment by the Ministry in the capacity of Auror. As you should know, this is a highly responsible job, and not to be entered into lightly. This session should assist us in judging your fitness to serve. Clear?"

"Yes, sir," said Tonks. The interview didn't look like it was going to go smoothly. But then, she'd never really expected that it would.

"We have received a confirmatory copy of your academic record from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the results of your aptitude tests, and they meet our minimum requirements satisfactorily. You received six NEWT level qualifications, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir." Tonks said again, in a voice that sounded a lot more confident than she felt. "Grade 'O' in Transfiguration and Charms, 'E's in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions, and Ancient Runes, and an 'A' in Herbology."

"I see. Well, we're not too concerned about the 'A' grade passes, to be honest, but the rest are up to a reasonable standard. If you are to become an Auror, you'll need to know a lot more than they ever taught you at school, and if you're accepted for training we'll bring you up to scratch in the subjects you need anyway. Isn't that right, Bruno?"

"Yes, it is," said the wizard on Tonks' right. His voice was quiet, but carried a distinct undertone of authority that Tonks found very noticeable. "We tend to discover that our trainees have the uncanny ability to forget most of what they learnt immediately after their final examination, but we'll be trying to find out what you've retained later on. Of course, in your case you've had even greater opportunities to forget, isn't that correct?"

"Sir?" said Tonks, caught slightly by surprise.

"It appears from your application form" - Featherstone indicated a piece of parchment on the desk - "that rather than apply during your NEWT year to start Auror training immediately upon leaving school, you decided to spend some time on a sort of world tour. You then started work in a junior capacity at the Ministry, before finally getting round to applying to be taken on as an Auror. Naturally, we do have to be slightly concerned as to exactly what your level of commitment is. Doesn't that sound fair?"

"Er, no sir, it doesn't," said Tonks. At least she'd anticipated this question and had an interview-ready answer prepared and ready to recite. "I've always really wanted to be an Auror, far more than any other career, but I also wanted to take the chance to experience something of the world while I didn't have any ties. I didn't want to find myself half way through training wondering what I might have done if I hadn't started straight away. I didn't apply right away when I got back because I was told the next training course wasn't due to start for a while, but when I did I was absolutely sure that this was what I wanted to be."

"I see," said Claymore. "You're saying you've got the wanderlust out of your system now. Is that what you mean?"

"Yes sir. And it's all good experience, isn't it?"

"I don't know, Miss Tonks. Where did you go? What did you do?"

"Oh." This was another expected question. "Well, first I did Europe on the grand tour ... all the touristy things, I suppose, like riding gondolas in Venice, visiting the Parisian Apothecaries, looking round the Black Forest Museum of Sorcery. Then I went to America and travelled coast to coast, just Apparating from town to town, staying a night or two in each place. I camped out for a while in South America, doing odd jobs, helping the local ministry look for wild Vipertooths, that sort of thing. Treated myself to a trip round the Caribbean, then came back and got a job here while I waited for the application to go in."

Claymore didn't look especially impressed by this listing of destinations. "Quite adventurous. And you consider this will be useful?"

"Well, sir, I've learnt things that that I'd never have learnt on a training course, practical things that I expect would be useful to me as an Auror."

This reply met with a slightly disconcerting silence. Then Claymore asked "What things?"

"Sir?"

"What things do you think you 'learnt', Miss Tonks? Do you really have any understanding of what an Auror needs to know?"

Tonks gulped, but was relieved to find herself answering firmly enough. "I learnt how to size people up, sir. I found out more about what the, um, seamier side of wizarding life is like than I'd ever had cause to before. I had to learn how to defend myself when necessary, how to translate all the duelling stuff I was taught at school into real life situations. I learnt ... well, when I needed to fend for myself and when I needed to accept help. Now, I know I'll have to learn loads more to be a good Auror, sir, but I reckon that's a start, and a better start than I'd have got coming straight from Hogwarts."

"Not a bad answer, Nymphadora," came a voice from her left. Tonks suppressed a shudder at the use of her first name (wishing, for about the two thousandth time in her life, that her father had won the parental naming argument). She turned to the Auror, Brickell, who continued: "I sometimes wish I'd done all that before I joined. I noticed that you missed out something rather important in that list of yours, though, didn't you?"

Tonks groaned to herself. Oh great, she thought. Now I've probably insulted the interviewer, and she wants to play guessing games. Terrific. "Very probably," she said, sparring for time. "I'd be silly to claim that I know everything I need to know for the job, or that I know the right emphasis to place on the things I do know." This noncommittal reply didn't get any reaction, and she realised that she was going to have to make some kind of stab at it. "I'm certainly weak on the details of our laws, but I always expected to have to study them ..."

"Well, that's the problem, Nymphadora." interrupted the Auror. "It's not just our laws - or rather our world - that you need to know. You've been halfway around the planet, it seems, but are we to understand that you confined yourself to the local magical communities? You won't be able to do that as an Auror - your work would involve a lot of contact with Muggles."

"Well, naturally I spent a lot of time in Muggle communities as well." Tonks didn't like this line of conversation much. It sounded like it had better be tackled head-on. She forced what she hoped was a reasonable facsimile of her usual mischievous smile onto her face. "I wouldn't have seen half the things of interest if I had. And I live in a Muggle flat. Of course, I grew up in a magical family so I'm not an expert, but my dad's Muggle-born so I'm quite at home there." Not that bad an answer, she thought critically. Down a few goals but pulled it back with the Snitch.

"Ah yes, I wanted to get onto the subject of your family at some point," said Claymore, who still hadn't smiled once. "Now will be as good a time as any, before we start talking details. We look closely into the background of applicants for Ministry positions, especially in this department of course, and to be frank in your case I don't very much like what I see."

Tonks turned and looked at him in surprise. "Sir? Are you saying Muggle relatives are a handicap for an Auror? Or any Ministry employee for that matter?"

"No, Miss Tonks. I'm not talking about your blood, or lack or it. I am referring to the fact, that, to be blunt, you come from a family that despite whatever nobility and age it may pride itself on, has displayed frequent criminal tendencies, a family that has caused this particular Department no end of trouble over the years. Especially recent ones." He looked at her sternly. "How can we convince ourselves to trust that you will not, let us say, revert to type?"

Tonks was beginning to feel uncomfortable now. "My family are not criminals!" she said sharply, barely managing to control her sense of outrage. It was true; she tended to include only herself and her parents in the way she usually thought of the word family. "I'd be the first to admit I've not always behaved myself, but I've never crossed the line, or anywhere near it." This was definitely something she hadn't prepared herself for - although she realised now that she really should have seen it coming.

Claymore looked at her sharply. "We know you haven't, Miss Tonks, because if you had you would never have got within a million miles of this interview. I think you may have trouble supporting your first claim, though." He nodded to the man on Tonks' right who had not yet spoken. "Mr Podmore, could you oblige us?"

"Yes, certainly, sir." Tonks glanced at the speaker; a tall, solemn-looking man, with untidy straw-coloured hair that was starting to go grey. He picked up a sheet of parchment and began reading from it. "Let's see. One of your cousins imprisoned for life in Azkaban, who was among You-Know-Who's most senior lieutenants. A cousin I believe your mother was very close to, Miss Tonks, incidentally. His known crimes include thirteen murders committed personally, and the betrayal of his best friends to their deaths at the hands of his master. Another cousin, his brother, also a member of the Death Eaters, and apparently killed while taking part in their activities. An aunt and uncle serving life sentences in Azkaban" - his voice hardened - "for torturing two of our people into permanent incapacity in an insane attempt to bring You-Know-Who back. Three more cousins and one great-aunt convicted of giving assistance to the Death Eaters. Shall I go on, sir?"

"No, I think that's more than enough to be going on with," said Claymore with disgust. "In addition, Miss Tonks, it is a matter of record that your mother's family publicly supported the aims of He Who Must Not Be Named throughout his initial rise to power. Oh, most of them quietened down when the killings began, of course, but we've no reason to believe they had an actual change of heart."

He paused for a moment to gaze at her grimly. "Now, as I'm sure you know, there are many people who are inclined to give members of old wizarding families the benefit of the doubt on behaviour like this. I'm glad to say few of them are Aurors. We're the ones who have to deal with the trouble it causes. Under the circumstances I think you'll see that your Muggle relations are the least of our concerns."

Tonks stared at Claymore open-mouthed; even Amelia Bones was looking at him curiously. The other interviewers seemed to be trying hard to keep their expressions completely blank. Tonks was finding words difficult. "Sir? I have never, ever gone along with the Black family beliefs," she spluttered. "My mother ... she ... she left the family because she couldn't accept them any more! I'm a half-blood myself, if that makes any difference to anyone! It's ridiculous to suppose I would ever be involved in ... in anything like that."

"If you were, you wouldn't be the first half-blood who did, Miss Tonks." This was from Featherstone again, quietly, but with emphasis. "Some of the worst of You-Know-Who's supporters during the war were people disgusted by their own part-Muggle ancestry. People who tried to keep it hidden away where it wouldn't be seen, even by themselves. We find that a person longing to be accepted into the fold despite knowing they are considered inferior, despite believing themselves to be inferior, can be exceedingly dangerous."

"And there were many who supported him for other reasons, of course," continued Claymore. "Fear. Blackmail. Bribery. Peer pressure. You don't need pure blood to be swayed by such things. Please do tell us, how can we be sure that you don't want to follow your family traditions?"

"Because I hate the Death Eaters and everything that they stood for!" This came out so vehemently it surprised even Tonks. "You can't really think it was like 'Oh Auntie Bella, please drop by for afternoon tea, tell us all about who you tortured today'? We always knew she was an evil cow who thought the sun shone out of You-Know-Who's wand, however well she put on an act for everyone else. We were glad when she finally got caught, we thought she'd got away with it!" Tonks knew she was losing her self-control, but didn't seem able to stop herself. "You can't believe that I would actually have wanted to join them? I was only a kid at the time, but even then I knew what You-Know-Who and his ... his ... his scum did to people! As for my precious cousin ... I have never felt more betrayed in my life than when I realised what he'd done. I'd have thrown him to the Dementors myself once I knew!"

She gritted her teeth and forced herself to speak more calmly. "I knew even back then that I would just love to be the sort of person who stopped bastards like that. Sorry, pardon my French. I don't suppose I realise everything yet that I need to know in order to be that, no, but I want to learn. I really, honestly do. Oh, and I couldn't care less what the Black family thought, or think, about me. I barely know most of my mother's relatives, and as far as I'm concerned if they don't like me or my parents, that's their problem and they can just stew in their own potion."

A very pronounced silence followed. To her surprise, Featherstone looked quietly pleased, Amelia Bones nodded approvingly, and even Claymore looked somewhat mollified. "Very well, Miss Tonks. I think you've made your position very ... clear. We'd best leave that there. Perhaps we should discuss some of the things you'll be doing if you're taken on. Bruno? ..."

The three Aurors present now began to direct a barrage of difficult technical questions at her, testing her knowledge of offensive and defensive spells, the uses of potions and the minutiae of their ingredients, and the properties of various types of magical equipment. Featherstone had been right; in the time since she'd left Hogwarts she had forgotten much of what she'd learned. Although she came up with solid answers to many of the questions, she knew she'd struggled on the more complex ones.

Toughest of all were the occasional philosophical questions on the ethical aspects of law enforcement that Featherstone threw in when she wasn't expecting them, forcing her to come up with improvised answers on the spur of the moment. At least her replies to these seemed to go down well with him, which was a definite relief.

Claymore didn't appear to be particularly impressed by anything she said, but by this time she was beginning to suspect that he would barely give her a nod of approval if she revealed that she'd invented a cure for lycanthropy in a quiet couple of hours the previous evening. Featherstone, however, smiled encouragingly from time to time, which she found heartening. Amelia Bones listened carefully and occasionally nodded, and Podmore kept out of things other than to quote regulations when asked, having apparently been invited here for the sole purpose of reading out his notes. Brickell turned out to be a smarmy cow, but you couldn't pick and choose in these situations.

As the interview wore on, Tonks gradually realised that her nervousness had evaporated after her earlier outburst. She began to relax and enjoy the challenge.

For the first time since sending in the application form, she had begun to feel confident that she might actually be accepted for Auror training ...