AUTHOR'S NOTE: The first couple chapters are going to be really short, but I promise they'll get longer. R&R please!

Disclaimer: Hello and Welcome! I own nothing :) Some lines in certain chapters are taken directly from the texts of OotP and HBP only for the sake of keeping the story in a more proper timeline. The story is constantly being revised- huge chunks are being added and erased to make the story as wonderful as possible. I love love LOVE reviews as it totally makes my day *wink wink* lol. I try to get back to anyone with questions, or critiques, and if you'd like me to respond, just let me know! Please be nice- it's my very first fic, and I think the only one for a looong while :)

Enjoy!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: (04.08) WOTCHER! I have decided to revamp this story throughout the 2008 summer season and either add on or create a sequel that will travel through Deathly Hallows :( Hope everyone enjoys it!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: (03.09) Hello again all of you! It is now Spring of 2009, and I'd just like you all to know that your glowing reviews and helpful nudges are all that made writing this story possible. Many of you (to my flattery) have requested that I write a sequel that travels through Deathly Hallows… *deep breath* Here's the deal with that. I've read OotP and HBP till I had to glue gun and duct tape the spine together again, more times that I care to admit… and I've read DH once. I found it so heartbreaking that the little talent I may have could not possible touch the events of DH. For the time being, I will say this: I am going to re-read DH and see if I may take a shot at the end of our ship's story, but I do say this with a lot of love: keeps your hopes to a dull roar lol. Thanks again, and I hope that in the smallest of ways that this story will be further proof to all of you that read it that Nymphadora Tonks, and Remus Lupin will always remain if not alive, then at the very least Unforgettable to us all ;)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: (01.14) I'm back ;) Time to brush this beastie up a bit.

- .Marauder

It was a normal night for London: cool, with a dense fog. A slippery street, beneath the drops of rain softly hitting the faces of it's numerous inhabitants. The dark twists and turns of cobbled city were calm now and settling, all ready to recover for the Londoners that would wander them at the crack of dawn. The birds in the treetops were quite silent now, huddling together in the sleepy warmth of their nests. The mothers cooed softly to their young between the gusts of wind that rustled softly through their surrounding leaves. All looked as if in a painting, capturing the slick stone and stillness of the dark.

The drizzle landed softly on the great city's rooftops as the young Auror skipped up the creaking steps and down the hallway to number 204. At the top of the wet stairs, Nymphadora Tonks put her bag down beside her feet and leaned against the door to her flat. She sighed heavily, breathing in the thick air and brushing her long side-swept bangs out of her eyes while recalling the events of that evening. She had gone out with some friends after a long day at the office, only to find that she once again came home alone despite a particular Auror's numerous advances. She groaned in annoyance at the thought of Kingsley's drunken drawl, placing his arms around her, and cooing at her. He had even tried to kiss her goodnight when ex Auror Alastor Moody came to her rescue, and offered to help the wasted Kingsley home. Needless to say, she was glad Moody had met them at all. Tonks had always admired Kingsley, as well as Moody, but Kingsley hitting on her was just too weird. She knew facing him at work the next morning was going to be a ghastly experience- not just because of this night's events, but because the senior Auror was never exactly pleasant when hung over. Slipping through her front door, she moved to her couch to take off her damp socks and favorite boots. She always loved the sound of the rain hitting her shoes, but between that and the cold she wished she had experienced less of it. She looked out her window and to the street below. Seeing the deep grey color of the sky, she thought it was the perfect moment for a cup of spiked black tea, and sleep. Her gaze almost broke from the window when she noticed a small shape breaking the silhouette of the now steady rain dancing beyond it. Curious, she moved tiredly closer. Not a moment later, she realized there was a tiny golden brown owl fighting the downpour with it's little wings, determined to get to her window. She slid the glass up silently, and let the little owl enter and swoop around till it found a comfortable place on top of her kitchen counter.

"Now what" she grumbled wiping her tired eyes, heading toward the little creature. "A little over excited, aren't we?" she asked as the owl hopped in place, obviously pleased with itself for having arrived in one piece despite the 'storm'. The little owl responded only by shaking the droplets off of it's feathers, not unlike a small dog after a bath.

'hoot', it replied.

She began to untie the small envelope attached to the creature's leg while it continued to crow and peck at her until it was free or her grasp. She glanced at the neat, loopy handwriting on the parchment and wondered who it belonged to. She had never seen the handwriting before, and examined the envelope as carefully as if dealing with a bomb. "Someone really must've wanted this here fast, or else they'd have waited till morning."

The seal was gold and red; inside of it the silhouette of a phoenix in a grand heap of shining flames. She knew she had seen this symbol before, but when she realized that it was the supposed symbol to the legendary Order of the Phoenix, she froze.

No way...

This had to be a joke. She'd heard tell of the organization but knew it had disbanded with the fall of You-Know-Tho. She tore the envelope unceremoniously open, as if expecting to read over someone's idea of a practical joke. And despite the countless re-tellings from Moody that the Order no longer existed, she always had wondered... Moody had drunkenly spoken of the Order re-banding but she had never thought to have taken him seriously on it. Her eyes scanned the parchment frantically as she read, her eyes growing wider and glossier with every word:

Dear Ms. Nymphadora Tonks

It is my duty to inform you that a mandatory meeting for the Order of the Phoenix has been called for tomorrow evening. We will meet at the home of Arthur and Molly Weasley to receive further instruction, unless otherwise notified. Sir Albus (Percival Wulfric Brian) Dumbledore has had me send an owl to your superior, Kingsley Shacklebolt to escort you safely to the Burrow. I suppose now is as good a time as any for you to know that Kingsley has already been long since involved, but I would not recommend discussion of this at your place of employment so as not to have tomorrow's location fall on unwelcome ears. Further details as to where the official headquarters are established will be released at tomorrow evening's encounter at the Burrow. Dumbledore insists you arrive promptly at 7:00 pm, and reminds you to take extra precautionary measures to uphold the safety of the Weasley family. The Order knows of your position in the Ministry of Magic, and understands if you are unwilling to accept this invitation that we are to take it with the highest amount of grace. More details will be disclosed to you tomorrow evening.

On a more personal note, I have not been instructed to do so, but I feel you should be prepared: expect surprises tomorrow.

Cordially,

R. J. Lupin

Assigned representative to the Order of the Phoenix

She read and re-read the letter over and over again, staring incredulously at it's lines. Me? A part of the Order?!

But there was another matter...

"Who the bloody hell is R. J. Lupin?!" she spoke aloud to herself, thinking hard.

The small owl hooted softly as if in response to her question. She knew she had heard that name before, but for the life of her she couldn't remember where from. She gave the owl an old apple core as a token of thanks, and closed the window safely behind it. Expect surprises... Were they warning her of something? And why would they be? Surely if it was a meeting for the Order it would be well protected... unless... Could this have been a trap? It would make sense that it was a trap as she was told not to discuss anything at her place of employment even though she had been told her Boss was in on the whole thing.

The clock struck 5:00 AM, and to her disgust she realized she had to be at work in three hours time. She groaned even more loudly this time, traipsing into her bedroom and throwing herself face first onto her bed. Her dress shuffled around loudly against the sheets, but she could care less. The last thing she needed was for Kingsley to escort her anywhere, let alone to a house full of unknown people like R.J. Lupin; Or well known people for that matter- she had known Albus Dumbledore since she was at school, and was quite shocked he had even remembered her at all! True, she knew of Arthur Weasley from the Ministry- in fact she would bet it was he who had recommended her to Albus Dumbledore in the first place, along with Kingsley and Moody. She tucked the letter safely under a weight on her bedside table as if to make sure it couldn't fly away during what was left of the night; she did after all upon awakening want proof that she hadn't just dreamed the whole situation up.

And though she could not put her finger on why, she seemed very intrigued by the writer of her letter, dozing off to sleep with thoughts of who the unknown author could be.

Many dreams crawled into her head throughout what was left of the night, most involving old faces of friends or relatives she had long not spoken to. Quite a few times her favorite cousin Sirius Black appeared, in his teenage form, shaking hands with a lanky looking boy with bright blue eyes. Visions of her school days and bittersweet memories continued through her mind for the next few hours until her brain had finally shut down for the evening. Little did she know that that particular pair of bright eyes would become more familiar than she ever thought, as would she also soon realize that there was much more to the name of R.J. Lupin than what was written in ink.