The Inadequate Life

Tonks shuddered dramatically. “It’s a brilliant idea, Harry,” she said. “But Merlin! I feel like I need a shower!”

Harry nodded, moving to place some items they’d been using back on the shelves. “I get that,” he said. “So think you can pull it off?”

“Oh, definitely,” Tonks agreed offhandedly. “I’ll need loads more practice, though.”

“Well, sure,” Harry said. “I figured that. We’ll have to have you come back whenever you can.” He hesitated with his hand still on a shelf. “We could keep going now, if you’d like…”

“Can’t,” Tonks said apologetically. “I only got your message this morning, and I had to juggle my schedule just to get the morning free.”

“Er… yeah, sorry about that,” Harry said. “We only really thought of this last night.”

Tonks shrugged. “Well, I have a shift starting at one, and it’s almost noon now. I’m supposed to meet up with Remus for lunch.”

Harry noticed Tonks’ slight blush and grinned. “So you and Lupin are still…?”

“Yeah, we are,” Tonks said, slightly defiant. “Even though he still feeds me crap about being too old or too broken or too werewolf-y every other day. Mostly I just tune that stuff out. Or snog him until he shuts up about it.”

Harry laughed. “Good. I think you’re well-suited to him. And too bloody stubborn to take no for an answer.”

“You’ve got that right,” Tonks said with a grin. “And by the way… thanks. I know it was you who took out Fenrir Greyback. You have no idea what that meant to Remus… Greyback was one of Remus’ personal demons. I think he kind of felt like it was his responsibility, his fault, every time Greyback bit another person. Knowing that’ll never happen again… it’s like a huge weight’s been lifted off him.” She smiled. “And for Bill too. I think if Fleur knew it was you that did it, she’d kiss your cheeks raw.”

“She’d better not, or Ginny will hex her upside down and inside out,” Harry chuckled, and Tonks brayed with laughter.

The smile slid off her face quickly, though. “Tonks?” Harry asked. “Is everything all right with you and Remus?”

“Wha…? Oh,” Tonks said, breaking out of her thoughts. “Yeah, it’s great—that’s not why I was frowning.” She fixed Harry with a stern look. “Harry, you know I respect you, right? I think you’re clever, and way more mature than just seventeen. I wouldn’t have agreed to be in on your little war or let you put that geas on me if I didn’t think you could handle everything, and actually do some good.”

Harry quirked his lips. “Are you coming on to me, Tonks? Because I’m married, you know.”

Tonks barked out a surprised laugh. “Hardly,” she choked. “I like older men, didn’t you notice?” Harry snorted. “I’ve been more than willing to help out when I could,” she said, sobering, “but now that it’s coming to the big end, I need you to do something for me.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “You know I’m limited in some ways by the need to stay secret,” he said.

Tonks nodded. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, I’m not going to ask you to blow your cover,” she assured him. “This is for me. You brought me in today—all the way in, told me some of what you’ve been doing, and that you want me to have a part in the big showdown with You-Know-Who. I’m good with all that—I’m in the Ministry and the Order, and I can tell you have a better chance of pulling this thing off than either of them do right now. But Harry, if I’m going to be in this all the way, than I want Remus here with me.”

Stunned, Harry sat down heavily in chair. “But—look, don’t think it didn’t occur to me to ask for Remus’ help,” he said carefully. “He’s a good wizard, and I’d trust him in a fight. But he’s a big risk, Tonks—with all the danger he’s putting himself in, running with the werewolf packs, he’s running a real chance of being captured, and if they found out about the D.A. because of it—”

“Yeah, I know,” Tonks said impatiently. “But all that doesn’t matter if you put the geas on him, too.”

Harry was surprised. “Do you think he’d let us?”

“I know it,” Tonks said smugly. “If Remus thinks I’m in danger, he’d do anything to protect me. It’s kinda cute, in an overprotective sort of way. Plus, he’s been all out of sorts, hearing everything that’s happening to you—well, everything that the public hears about, anyway—and not being able to do anything about it. I think he thinks that ever since old Padfoot died, it became his job to be your godfather or something.”

Harry felt a wave of guilt wash over him. “I’d rather had him as a friend than a godfather,” he said quietly. “I’ve had enough people in my life trying to protect me so much that I ended up too sheltered.”

Tonks snorted. “Considering that you didn’t even know wizards existed until you were eleven? Yeah, I’d say ‘sheltered’ is a good description.” She smiled a bit sadly. “I bet Remus would be a lot happier being your friend, too, Harry. But you’ve got to tell him, or he’ll just go on trying to protect you.”

“Okay, fine,” Harry said, just a bit reluctantly. “If Remus will agree to the geas, then I’d be happy to have his wand on our side when the battle comes. How about you bring him along next time you come for a bit of practice? We can put him through the Veritaserum and the geas, and then fill him in like we did for you.”

Tonks agreed, and promised to send Harry a message with a time for hers and Remus’ visit. Harry left the conference room with her, and escorted her downstairs to the kitchen, where Tonks could take the Floo back to the Ministry. “Harry,” Tonks said quietly as they walked down the stairs, “don’t you think it’s time for the D.A. and the Order to—I don’t know, compare notes? I mean, don’t you want the Order helping in the final battle against You-Know-Who?”

“No,” Harry said sharply, startling Tonks. “There’s too much risk. Thanks to Snape, Voldemort”—he ignored Tonks’ shudder—“knows everything about the Order. But there’s still a lot of secrets the D.A. has managed to keep, and I want it to stay that way.”

“But Snape’s gone,” Tonks responded with a frown. “It’s not like he’s still passing information to You-Know-Who.”

“Just because he isn’t doesn’t mean no one is,” Harry replied flatly.

Tonks stopped dead on the stairs and stared open-mouthed at Harry. “You think there’s still a spy in the Order?” she gasped. “Who?”

“I don’t know who,” Harry admitted. “But I’ve got good reason to believe it. Be careful what you say to who, Tonks. Remus is okay, and I’m pretty sure about MGonag—er, Minerva, but be suspicious of anyone else.”

Tonks looked unsettled by Harry’s statement, but didn’t comment on it again. When they reached the kitchen, she took a handful of Floo powder, said a distracted goodbye and Flooed away.

Mentally shrugging, Harry turned back to the stairs. He had to go and find Ginny, Ron and Hermione—it had occurred to him that he really should have discussed it with them before telling Tonks it was all right for Remus to help them. He was fairly sure they’d all agree, but the four of them had made a point of talking through everything thoroughly before proceeding—in fact, it had been Harry’s idea, and he was a bit embarrassed that he’d just forgotten about it completely.

Harry re-ascended the stairs. He was pretty sure that Ron was supposed to be in one of the practice rooms with Lee, becoming proficient in using Fred and George’s latest inventions. Hermione was in her room. And Ginny—

Harry shivered a bit when he thought about Ginny, who was working with Hermione in her room. He’d been slightly skeptical when Ginny had told him that the “completion” of their marriage hadn’t happened until she’d taken Harry’s name. But since she’d mentioned it, Harry had been paying attention, and he couldn’t deny that he wanted to be around her even more with every passing day. He’d felt mildly irritable for no good reason all day, and he’d finally realized that it was because it was the first time he and Ginny had been apart for more than an hour or so since she’d become Ginny Potter.

Ginny Potter… It still sounded odd to him. Ginny had always been Ginny Weasley. But it sounded and felt right, and Harry had to admit it filled him with satisfaction and contentment every time he thought of it.

Harry had reached the second floor, still musing happily about Ginny; he was about to knock on the door to the first practice room when Susan and Hannah came down the stairs from the third floor. “There you are!” Susan snapped. “Harry, I have to talk to you right now!”

Alarmed, Harry lowered his hand and turned to greet the girls. “Er… Hi Susan, hi Hannah,” he said cautiously. He was unused to Susan being angry, since he’d always known her to be quiet and a bit shy. But she’d been irritable since the incident with Neville and Pansy. “Is something wrong?”

“Of course something’s wrong!” Susan retorted loudly. “You haven’t given us anything to do! I’m going stir-crazy in this stupid house!”

Harry caught Hannah’s eye. The other girl looked mildly embarrassed, but wasn’t refuting Susan. “You’re supposed to be practicing spell-casting—” Harry began.

“I can’t spell-cast for sixteen hours a day!” Susan shot back furiously. “I need to help, Harry, and not just passively! I need to know that I’m actually making a difference by being here!”

Harry hadn’t anticipated this kind of reaction. He knew that a lot of it was because Susan was still angry with Neville, but Susan’s reaction was at least partly borne out of a real need to do her part. Harry had tried to impress upon the D.A. how critical everything they were doing was, especially since they’d discovered the last Horcrux (not that most of them knew that), and apparently he’d gotten that message through to Susan loud and clear.

“Okay,” Harry said, relenting. “I’ll give you an assignment tonight. Look,” he said when Susan opened her mouth, most likely to say that that wasn’t good enough, “I have to figure out what job it would be best to assign you both to! I’m off to talk with Ginny, Hermione and Ron right now. I’ll talk about the two of you with them and we’ll make a decision, okay?”

“Oh. Okay,” Susan said, mollified. “Um… thanks, Harry.” Now appearing a bit embarrassed by her own outburst, Susan turned and headed back to the stairs quickly. Hannah gave Harry an apologetic little grimace and followed.

Sighing, Harry turned back to the practice room door. He wished that, just once, the D.A. could get through a day or two without someone flying off the handle.