So here it is! Part 2 of the Daughter of an Outcast series. I had such wonderful, beautiful reviews that I KNEW I needed to hurry up and get this one up. This story is set in Harry Potter's 4th year, and therefore Lizzie's 5th year along with Katie. Fred, George, Angelina, and Lee are 6th years.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters, plots, etc are property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros.

"Something is coming," the man says. At least, it looks like a man. It's really just a shadow, or an outline. Something shaped like a person with long hair.

"What?"

"Something is coming," he says, and a strange tapping sound starts to sound somewhere distant.

"What's coming?"

Tap. Tap. Taptaptaptap.

TAPTAPTAPTAP!

A flood of light.

I open my eyes and shut them tight again quickly.

"Get up, little flower," says Uncle Remus, walking over to the window and pushing open the curtains, "I made breakfast."

"Someone's in a good mood," I grumble, still half asleep.

"I wouldn't say the same for this one," he answers, opening the window to let in my owl, Cleopatra.

"So that's what that was," I yawn, getting up slowly.

"Get dressed. I'll go wake your mother."

"Her door is locked," I answer as he walks out. Mum always locks the door at night. She never did before, but I think she's afraid her face will betray what her voice can't at night. It's not to say that our voices might not betray us anyway. We both live in fear of saying something, anything that could cause suspicion. We've been doing far too well to get security heightened now.

I pull on a robe and walk toward Cleo's cage. She holds up her leg stiffly and turns her head away from me.

"Come on, don't be mad. I'm sorry I didn't open the window," I coo at my offended pet, "Did you enjoy the Weasley's?" She ruffles her feathers and turns to the water bowl.

I change quickly, pulling my hair back into a ponytail and rushing down the stairs of our new (and hopefully temporary) flat in London.

While it may be large for a flat, it's quite smaller than our house. I had to leave Dad's old library behind, along with many of my own books and other things that don't fit in my new bedroom. There are only two bedrooms, meaning that on the rare occasion that Uncle Remus stays, he has to sleep on the couch. To make matters worse, we can't go to his flat to take care of him after a full moon, since Ministry regulation says that only trained Healers can tend to werewolves after a full transformation. Uncle Remus has no Wolfsbane Potion and no one to take care of him.

As if I wasn't missing home enough, I might as well be living here alone. Mum has practically shut down since the day the Ministry started watching us. Seeing Dad and having to say goodbye to him was too much for her.

It was the day after I returned from school, and the sun was just starting to creep below the trees, casting a soft orange glow on everything. Dumbledore had managed to buy us two or three days without surveillance.

I had gone outside in search of flowers to put in the kitchen when the sound of four soft feet touching down on the grass caught my attention.

"Snuffles!" I yelled, unable to contain my excitement. Hopefully no one was watching, and they wouldn't find it strange that I knew the name of this stray.

The dog barked back and ran toward me. I kneeled and hugged its muzzle.

"Are you hungry?" I asked in a soft voice, careful not to drop the dog act now. He barked back, and I got up, motioning for the dog to follow me into the house.

The door opened silently just as I reached it, and Mum and I led the dog silently to the end of the hall, where the house seemingly ends. Just a touch of Mum's hand against the wall, and another door appeared, welcoming us into a large room with about a dozen chairs. When my dad built the house, he created this hidden room as both a safe room in case of an attack and a place for emergency order meetings, in case the location of Headquarters ever became compromised. Once or twice, it served as a place for Uncle Remus' transformations when he had nowhere else to go. Now, it's full of Dad's old books, his clothes, old family pictures, and anything else that could pass on as suspicious in a Ministry raid.

I walked toward the back wall of the room, where an old wardrobe sits, dusty and closed. Behind me, I heard the whisper of a shape shift and the sigh of a tired man before my mother took him in her arms, desperate to hold her husband again. I took my time picking out clothes, allowing them to make up for twelve years apart.

"Lizzie," Dad smiled after a few moments.

"Dad," I smiled back and flung my arms around him, "Where's Buckbeak?"

"He's hidden deep in the woods," he assured, "I can't stay long. I flew back as soon as I read your letter. I knew that if I didn't come see you now, it might be ages before I did."

"I'm glad you did," Mum smiled, taking his hand in hers.

"Here," I handed him the clothes, "I'm sorry we can't offer you a shower. The Ministry might get here any minute."

"I understand," he nodded, "I've taken a few baths in some streams and I think I managed to get most of the grime out of my hair."

"Well, you do smell better than last time," I joked, and he laughed a hearty laugh that made me feel warm from inside right out to my toes.

He stayed for half an hour, talking, eating, and never letting go of our hands or shoulders or waists. After a long and tearful goodbye, he turned back into a dog, and Mum and I wiped our tears long enough to stand outside and watch him disappear into the woods. I smiled, keeping up the act of having just fed a stray. Mum, meanwhile, stood with a hardened face. She was masked in emotionless features, sobbing inside and unable to say a word.

The smell of pancakes reaches my nose as I walk downstairs now. Uncle Remus is setting three places at the table. It's pointless, really, because we'll be lucky if we can get Mum to drink half a glass of juice.

"Good morning," he smiles.

"Did you wake Mum?" I ask, taking my place at the breakfast table.

"I tried," he says in a low voice.

I hold in a sigh. Before, it would have been Mum who woke us up and made us pancakes before we left.

"Are you all packed?" asks Moony.

I nod, "I finished last night. You?"

He points to a large pack by door, "All there. Did you get the tent out?"

"Yes."

Uncle Remus and I are leaving today for the Quidditch World Cup. I managed to get excellent seats near the Top Box for the two of us, and we're to arrive this afternoon, a day before the match.

"The car will be here at eleven to take us to the house."

Since the majority of the Ministry of Magic thinks that Mum and I still live at home, our Portkey was set up deep in the woods that are next to the house. And seeing as we're not supposed to go anywhere that the Aurors can't watch us, we're being driven in a Ministry car back to my house with an Auror, who will then walk us to the Portkey.

I take the letter that Cleopatra was carrying out of my pocket.

"It's from Fred."

I rip open the parchment a bit too enthusiastically, making Uncle Remus raise his eyebrows in suspicion.

Dear Lizzie,

I hope I catch you before you leave. Dad told me you managed to get a campsite right next to ours! That's brilliant!

Bill and Charlie arrived a few days ago, Hermione got here yesterday, and we'll be picking up Harry this afternoon. Are you still coming to stay with us after the match? I hope your mum and uncle don't mind. I guess you'll tell us at the match.

Say hello to Professor Lupin for me. We'll see you tomorrow.

-Fred

"I can still stay at the Weasley's for the rest of the summer, right?" I ask. I'm dying to get out of this hole.

"Of course," says Uncle Remus. As of late, he's become more responsible for me than Mum, "I will send all of your things there when I get back home."

Mum walks into the kitchen then, silent as always. Her hair stands out in strange places, and her face is stained with yesterday's make up.

"Go wash your face, Mum," I say, sounding a bit harsh. She turns around silently and walks back upstairs. Uncle Remus looks at me with slightly disappointed eyes, but says nothing. Mum returns ten minutes later, dressed in long green skirt and black blouse, her hair in a ponytail and her face clear of makeup.

At eleven o'clock, the honk of a car horn sounds outside the building.

"Mum," I turn to her, gripping both her shoulders, "Listen to me. Are you listening?"

She nods.

"I said are you listening?" I ask forcefully.

"Yes," she croaks, looking at her hands.

"Look at me. Mum," I force her head up, "Look at me. Uncle Remus will be back in two days. Take care of yourself. Eat. Sleep. Take a shower. I will see you at King's Cross on September 1st."

Unable to look at her anymore, I turn on my heel, grab my backpack, and walk out the door. Uncle Remus takes a while to say goodbye to Mum, and then we're both down on the street and being helped into the Ministry car by the driver.

"Mornin' Miss Black," the auror says from the passenger seat. I recognize her from the day we moved out of the house, mostly because of the bright purple hair. She was a seventh year Hufflepuff when I started Hogwarts.

"Er, hi…" I struggle to remember her name. I know it's something long and weird.

"Nymphadora Tonks," she smiles, turning in her seat to face me as my uncle slides into the seat behind her, "But don't call me Nymphadora."

"Then what do I call you?" I ask warily. Aurors are not exactly my favorite people in the world lately.

"Tonks," she laughs, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, "And who might this be?"

I'm 100% certain she knows exactly who he is, since she's been watching our house for the past few weeks, but I introduce them anyway.

"This is my uncle, Remus Lupin. Uncle Remus, this is Auror Nymphadora Tonks."

"We've met," says Uncle Remus, before seemingly realizing he's made quite a big mistake.

"We have?" Tonks asks in confusion, her head tilting to the side.

"Er…you were just a little girl…wouldn't remember…" Uncle Remus stampers.

The young auror swallows, her eyes going slightly wide, "Oh. Yes. I remember now. Yes, we've met before."

Tonks turns back toward the windshield as the car starts, and I chance a glance at my uncle, who shakes his head almost unnoticed. I'll have to ask later, once we're at the campsite and away from hearing devices and surveillance spells.

Halfway to the house, Tonks chances at talking again, "The Quidditch World Cup, eh? I wish I could go see it."

"Were you unable to get tickets?" Uncle Remus asks.

I'm only half listening as they chat about work hours and ticket prices. Instead, my mind drifts to my dad, as it usually does when I'm faced with a moment to myself. I wonder where he is. Harry mentioned the arrival of a letter by tropical bird in his last letter. According to the will Mum showed me years ago, when I still thought my father was dead, he owns a small island near the Bahamas. If he were a free man, as he should be, what would he be doing now? We'd probably be at home, preparing to take a Portkey to the Quidditch World Cup together. Mum would be happy. She would sleep, eat, laugh, maybe even sing and dance about like she usually does.

The Ministry car drops us off outside the house, and I do my best to hold in the tears that spring to my eyes when I take in the grimy windows and the overgrown garden.

"We've not been gone a month, and it already looks abandoned," I whisper, knowing that Uncle Remus will hear me anyway. It's been three days since the last transformation, so his senses and reflexes are strong, but his body is still a bit weak.

"Come, little flower, we don't want to miss our Portkey."

Tonks walks ahead of us, leading us through the woods so that we don't get lost. It's pointless, really. I know these woods by heart. How many times have I been out here looking for unicorns with my mother?

Halfway to the stream, Tonks stumbles over a tree root. My uncle lashes forward, his advanced reflexes making his arm a blur as he catches her by the elbow.

"Sorry. Dead clumsy," she laughs, "The only reason I passed my stealth exams is because I'm a metamorphagus."

"A what?" I ask.

"Someone who can change their appearance at will," Uncle Remus explains before she can. His voice takes on a playful, reminiscent tone as he adds, "They are very rare. Nymphadora is one in five of all of Western Europe that have this ability."

Tonks whips around quickly, almost tripping again but managing to regain her balance, "I knew it! I knew it was you!"

Uncle Remus smiles rather grimly, "You're not going to place surveillance on me, as well, are you?"

"No."

"Can someone please explain to me what's going on?" I ask, waving my hands.

"Your uncle used to help your father babysit." Tonks smiles, turning forward again and continuing to walk.

"Babysit? Who?" I ask.

"Me!" she laughs, "I'm sure I caused them a few premature grey hairs."

"You were the most unruly six year old in history," Moony laughs and turns to me, "She used to make Snuffles give her rides around the back yard for an hour, and if we didn't give her what she wanted she would hold her breath until we did."

"I would even make my face turn blue for effect."

"That's how you knew each other," I say. They nod and it goes quiet again.

"Tonks?" I ask after a minute.

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember him?" I chance, hoping that I'm not making a huge mistake.

"Your dad?" she guesses without turning around, "Yeah. I remember him. I remember him pretty well. And…can I tell you a secret?"

"Sure," I shrug and turn to my uncle. He's holding his breath.

"I know I was only about eight when they took him, but I have a rather good memory, and the man I remember would have never betrayed Lily and James. And he sure as hell would have never done anything that would keep him away from you."

"What are you saying?" Uncle Remus asks warily.

"I'm saying that the only reason I joined this bloody surveillance force was so that I could look for clues to prove that my cousin is innocent," she says forcefully. My heart flies to my throat in excitement. We have an ally, and she's a part of the Ministry. But as her words sink in, my heart sinks back into the pit of my stomach.

"Good luck with that," I say bitterly, "The only piece of evidence in his favor is a rat missing a toe who is hiding in who knows where. And unless you have a way of examining every single rat in all of Britain, I wouldn't get too hopeful."

"So I've heard," she says, "After the incident at Hogwarts, I overheard the Minister saying that Harry Potter and Hermione Granger had been cursed into believing that Sirius was innocent, and that for a moment he actually thought Dumbledore had believed them. So I went to Hogwarts and talked to the Headmaster myself, and we came up with as many ways as we could to postpone the surveillance, and I made sure that I was the only one watching when Sirius came to visit you."

"You've been helping us all this time?" I ask.

"Of course," she says, "Families have to look out for each other, don't they? Mum hasn't talked to Regina in ages, but she's wanted to. I suppose she just didn't know what to say. This is it."

I look toward the tree she's pointing at. Hidden between the roots, almost impossible to see if you aren't looking for it is an old glass milk bottle. Tonks grabs it and places it between my uncle and me. We're standing at the edge of the stream that marks the end of our land.

"Tonks, will there be surveillance for us at the Cup?" I ask.

She shakes her head, "We managed to convince everyone that there wasn't a point to it, since there would be Ministry officials everywhere and your tent will be stationed between Arthur Weasley and Rodrick Croaker from the Department of Mysteries."

"I know who Croaker is," I nod, scrunching my nose in distaste. "He always gets drunk at the Department Christmas Parties and tries to make Mum dance with him."

"He's not exactly my favorite person, either," says Tonks, "But he'll be drunk and out like a light by nightfall and the two of you will get some peace."

"Thank you," says Uncle Remus.

She waves her hand around as if to wave away his words, "Bah. You better grab hold of that bottle. You're set to leave in forty seconds."

"Thanks again," I say, taking hold of the bottle's neck, "For everything."

"No problem. Have fun," she smiles, and with one last wink she disappears in a whirlwind of colors.

After a minute of colors and wind and a strange sensation in my stomach, my feet hit the ground hard, making my heels tingle.

"Fourteen past twelve from Black Stream."

One of the two strangely dressed men checks us off the list. Uncle Remus hands him the milk bottle, which he tosses into a large box.

"Black and Lupin, is it?"

"Yes."

"About a quarter of a mile in that direction, first field. The sight manager is Mr. Roberts."

"Thank you."

We walk for twenty minutes until we reach the cottage where Mr. Roberts is charging. I turn to look at my uncle every now and then, but he's covering up how tired I know he must be.

"You're the first normal people I've seen all morning," the man says as he hands us our change and a map of the campsite, "Plenty of weirdos walking around all this week. I'd keep a close watch on your daughter, sir."

Uncle Remus nods and grabs my hand, pulling me toward the campsite. Mr. Roberts seems to be right. Having spent a lot of time in the muggle village near the cottage, Uncle Remus and I have got dressing like a muggle down to an art. With Uncle Remus in a light blue jumper and trousers, and me in dark wash jeans and a green hiking jacket, we don't stand out at all the way some other people do.

"Why would they station everybody at a muggle campsite?" I ask, "Isn't it risky?"

"I doubt there's any place in the Wizarding World with enough space for everyone. I imagine they've got plenty of Obliviators taking care of poor Mr. Roberts."

We walk for about half an hour, encountering mostly normal tents, but every now and then there will be a tent so extravagant that there's no reason for Mr. Roberts not to be suspicious. We finally reach two empty spots at the edge of the forest.

"The Weasleys aren't here yet?" Uncle Remus asks as we put down our heavy backpacks.

"They're in the Top Box, so they don't have to get here until tomorrow morning. They'll be picking Harry up later today."

I help Uncle Remus set up the tent, although I don't actually have an idea of what I'm doing. My grandparents used to take him and Mum camping when they were little, so Uncle Remus already knows how to set up a tent the muggle way.

"After you," he says when it's all set.

I ordered this tent from Diagon Alley two weeks ago. The description said it was a luxury tent, and my first look at it definitely lives up to my expectations.

"This thing is nicer than our house," I say when Uncle Remus enters.

There's a large sitting area in gold and purple hues, a kitchen with a granite countertop, an ornate dining table with a crystal chandelier above it, a deep purple curtain to the right that leads to Uncle Remus' room, and a gold one to the left that leads to my room.

"How much did this cost you?" Uncle Remus asks in a tone that says I should not have splurged on it.

"What does it matter?"

"Elizabeth," he half-growls.

"It was on sale, I swear!" I raise my hands above my head, "There's no need to get all animalistic."

"Sorry," he bows his head sheepishly.

"It's alright. I'm hungry. Let's make lunch."

We make lunch in the kitchen, and after we've eaten we go exploring about the camp. The entire place is one giant wizard party. In the evening, we make dinner outside on a muggle fire and turn in early. As I'm crawling into bed, I pull a leather bound book out of my backpack and prop it up against the clock on the bedside table, open to one of the center pages.

"I miss you, Dad," I whisper and touch the younger looking face of my father on his wedding day, "But Tonks is going to help us see you again."

TOOOOOONNNNKKKSS! I don't know about all of you, but I adore Tonks. Mostly because she reminds me that somebody who is awkward and clumsy and different can be awesome and end up marrying the intellectual older man of her dreams. But also because she is too awesome.

So yeah, you can expect lots of love for Tonks in this series.