The Ministry was quieter than I expected at that hour.
Most of the chaos had burned itself out with the werewolves safely locked away in reinforced holding cells, layers of wards humming softly around thick enchanted bars. I personally watched the last portkey activate, satisfied only once the cell doors sealed and the containment spells settled into place.
Only then did I turn to Madam Bones.
"Before we part ways," I said casually, "may I borrow Auror Tonks for a few minutes?"
Her eyes sharpened immediately.
"For questioning?" she asked.
"For talking," I replied smoothly.
She studied my face for several seconds, clearly weighing a dozen worst-case scenarios. Finally, she nodded once.
"Very well. You can use my office," she said. Then her gaze flicked sharply between me and Tonks. "But just to talk. No funny business."
Her eyes narrowed in a way that suggested she would personally hex me into next week if I crossed that line.
"I promise," I said, placing a hand over my heart.
Tonks snorted under her breath.
Once inside the office, the door closed with a soft click and several privacy charms activated automatically. The silence lasted exactly three seconds.
Tonks spun on me.
"Alright," she snapped, arms crossed tightly over her chest, eyes blazing. "You have five minutes to explain yourself before I decide to curse your bollocks off."
I instinctively snapped my legs together and swallowed.
"…Noted."
She didn't look amused.
I ran a hand through my hair, buying myself a second to organize my thoughts. "To begin with," I said carefully, "I honestly thought you already knew."
Her brow furrowed. "Knew what?"
"Well," I continued, "considering the articles. The interviews. The photographs. Merlin, there was even a spread in Witch Weekly."
Her hands flew up instantly.
"How would I know it was true?" she exploded. "It was written by Rita bloody Skeeter. Merlin knows half of what that woman writes is either a lie, wildly exaggerated, or stitched together from gossip and spite."
She began pacing the length of the office, boots thudding sharply against the floor.
"I thought it was another one of her slander pieces," she went on, voice rising. "Trying to drag you down after everything you pulled off. I figured it was nonsense. Some made-up scandal to sell papers."
I watched her for a moment, then nodded slowly.
"…Fair enough," I admitted. "I genuinely didn't think about it from that perspective."
She stopped pacing and stared at me.
"Of course you didn't."
I took a breath. "But can you give me a chance to explain properly?"
She scoffed. "You've got about four minutes left."
"I just want you to give this relationship a chance, I promise I'll make it worth it," I said, meeting her eyes. "Can you do that?."
Her lips thinned. "You want a chance?" she asked incredulously. "I can't believe this. When I finally find a man who doesn't want me because of my powers, it turns out he's a complete scumbag who wants me as another addition to his harem."
That one stung.
"Hey," I protested, holding up my hands. "There's nothing wrong with being a bit greedy."
Her eyes flashed dangerously.
"And you wouldn't be just another member of anything," I added quickly. "I genuinely like you, Tonks. I enjoy spending time with you. You make me laugh. You surprise me constantly. That matters to me."
She hesitated, just for a fraction of a second.
Then she narrowed her eyes again. "And the other women? Are they fine with this?"
"Yes," I said without hesitation.
She blinked.
"In fact," I continued, "it was Aurora who proposed the idea of sharing me. She even had me establish a new Magical House so that, legally, we could all marry in the future if we wanted to."
Her mouth fell open.
"You can do that?" she blurted, then shook her head sharply. "Wait, that's not the point. She really did that?"
"Yes."
"That's…" She trailed off, then let out a low whistle. "Wow. I truly didn't expect that."
Silence settled between us.
Her expression softened, she seemed conflicted and thoughtful. Hope flickered in my chest.
Then she sighed.
"I'm sorry, Gilderoy," she said quietly. "I don't think I can do this."
The words landed heavier than any curse.
I looked down at the polished floor, nodding once. "I understand."
That part was true, even if I didn't like it.
"Still," I added, lifting my gaze again, "could you give it some thought before giving me a definitive answer? Just a few days."
She studied my face, searching for something. A lie. A weakness. Maybe sincerity.
Finally, she exhaled.
"…Alright," she said reluctantly. "A few days."
Relief loosened something tight in my chest.
We left the office together, neither of us saying much after that. The uncertainty hung between us like an unresolved spell, fragile and humming with potential.
As she walked away down the corridor, I watched her go, wondering whether this was the beginning of something more complicated.
Or the quiet end of something that could have been.
Only time would tell.
…
(Tonks)
Tonks still couldn't quite believe it.
She had been dating a man who already had two other women.
Two.
And the most insane part was not even that. It was the fact that they knew about each other. Worse, they agreed to it. Willingly. Like it was the most reasonable arrangement in the world.
Bloody hell.
She wasn't one to judge how people lived their lives. Merlin knew the wizarding world was weird enough as it was. But she would have appreciated being informed before she caught feelings. That seemed like basic bloody courtesy. First date material, honestly.
Hello, I'm Gilderoy Lockhart, hero, prodigy, and by the way, I already have two other girlfriends.
That sort of thing should not be an afterthought.
She rubbed her face with both hands as she walked down the Ministry corridor, boots echoing softly against the stone floor.
The worst part was that she really liked him.
That was the part she kept circling back to, no matter how hard she tried to avoid it.
Gilderoy was fun. Genuinely fun. He was clever in a way that went far beyond book-smarts, sharp and observant when he thought no one was watching. He listened to her. Really listened. And he liked her for who she was, not for what she could do.
And Merlin, that was rare.
He hadn't once asked her to change herself. Not even jokingly. Not even out of curiosity.
Which was more than she could say for any man she'd dated before.
Her first boyfriend floated into her mind uninvited.
Charlie Weasley.
She snorted quietly.
He had seemed perfect at the time. Funny, confident, easy to be around. Quidditch captain. Talented with a wand. Brave in that reckless Gryffindor way that made your stomach flutter and your mother nervous.
And then things had gotten weird.
At first, it was harmless curiosity. Could you do this? Could you do that? She hadn't minded. She was used to questions. Being a Metamorphmagus came with them.
But then he'd started asking during snogging.
Could you grow scales?
What about fangs?
Claws?
Could you make your eyes like this?
Reptilian. Slitted. Hungry.
And the worst one, the one that had finally made her shove him away and stare at him like he'd lost his mind.
Could you grow wings and a tail?
While they were kissing.
The bloody degenerate had wanted to snog a dragon.
After that, it had all gone downhill. Every relationship followed the same cursed pattern. At some point, without fail, they stopped seeing her and started seeing possibilities. Other women. Other shapes. Other fantasies.
Change this. Change that. Turn into someone else.
She had learned to spot the signs early. The lingering looks. The curiosity that turned from innocent to covetous.
But Gilderoy?
He hadn't cared. Not once. He hadn't asked her to change. He hadn't even commented on it unless she did something deliberately dramatic. He liked her laugh. Her sarcasm. Her temper. Her stubbornness.
He liked Nymphadora Tonks.
But now he wanted her to join his bloody harem.
She growled under her breath and tugged at her hair, which immediately began shifting through a riot of colors. Pink to blue to orange to something dangerously close to acid green.
"Get a grip," she muttered to herself.
Yes, he was a little narcissistic.
Alright, fine.
He was very narcissistic.
But she had thought that was his biggest flaw. Annoying, sure, but manageable. Almost endearing, in small doses.
But this?
This was not small.
She slowed near her office door, leaning her forehead briefly against the cool stone wall.
She had found what seemed like the perfect man.
And keeping him meant sharing.
Her stomach twisted.
She didn't know if she was capable of that. She didn't know if she wanted to be. Even if the other women were kind. Even if they meant well. Even if they had chosen this freely.
It still felt like standing on unfamiliar ground, unsure whether it would hold her weight or crumble beneath her feet.
Her hair faded back to its usual pink as she straightened with a sigh.
Not now.
She didn't have to decide now.
There was paperwork waiting for her. Mountains of it. Reports to file, statements to review, containment forms for an absurd number of werewolves who were currently sitting very uncomfortably in Ministry cells.
All of which, she noted bitterly, was entirely Gilderoy Lockhart's fault.
She pushed open the door to her office and stepped inside.
Fine.
She would think about it later.
After all, she'd survived worse emotional disasters than this.
Probably.
…Maybe.
She dropped into her chair, grabbed a quill, and scowled at the first report.
"Bloody men," she muttered.
And for just a second, she wasn't entirely sure whether she meant it.
…