LIV: April 18, 1994

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Alastor Moody was in his office, grumbling to himself, going through stacks of owl post, scowling and holding up unopened envelopes, scanning the letters inside with his magical eye.

The office door burst open with more energy than Moody deemed necessary at 8 sharp on a Monday morning. He glared at the entrant - slight of frame, short, but feisty enough to make up for her smurf-like stature - Nymphadora Tonks. As always, she was not wearing her Auror's uniform, but instead had on a pair of muggle jeans with ankles as wide as her whole body, and a tight fitting t-shirt that showed off her belly button. Arms adorned with plastic bracelets and a black velvet choker about her neck with a - was that a flower? - hanging from it... the wildly pink hair pulled up into two balls like mouse ears on her head... She was a bloody walking target.

"What the hell are you wearing?" he grumbled.

"What? You like my outfit?" she pirouetted proudly.

"Going to get yerself killed dressed like that, bloody trip on your own pant legs, ferfuckssake. These kids today..." and he started mumbling under his breath about gogo boots and war time intelligence. "Constant vigilance; that's what I always say, none of this ridiculousness you're wearing ---"

"Mad-Eye," Tonks sang, fluttering into the chair across from him, "I need a change of station."

He looked up at her with his good eye, the magical one spinning about over the letters on his desk still. "What?"

"I need to be positioned inside the castle."

"You've been on me for a month now about making sure you're posted at the Whomping Willow, some bleedin' thing about Gaffney mistreating sacred plant life or some shite like that --"

"It's a very rare tree," Tonks said, nodding, "And Gaffney was blasting it every time the wind twitched its branches wrong!"

"Alright so now what's more important than your bloody tree that you need to go take care of?"

Tonks had spent a good deal of time coming up with this one... and precisely what back-door she would use to get to her ultimate destination.

"It's my hair, sir."

Mad-Eye's magical eye swiveled up to look at her, too, so that both eyes were focused on her. 

"The sun is just doing loads of damages. Look... Look here." She tilted her head. "The whole back is just not as pink as I can usually get it and I reckon it's sun bleached!" Tonks shook her head dramatically blowing a few strands of it out of her face, "I mean blimey, it's a real problem, and I said to myself, who's a man who understands problems with hair -- I mean, look at yours, must've been done in by a thousand battles, 'ey?" she gestured at his wildly unkempt mop of greying yellow-white.

"You know you are an Auror working for the Ministry for Magic, an' not a bleedin' fashion magazine, Nymphadora?"

"Don't CALL me --"

"Tonks!"

Tonks smiled sweetly, "Better. I know I don't work for a fashion magazine - Cosmopolitan just was not hiring, it was my first choice after all; luckily you, my second, were - but does one have to sacrifice one's looks to protect the entire world as we know it from the vile evil bad guys and their despicable, heinous crimes? Besides, you said yourself the Whomping Willow's a pointless position to be coverin', I should think you'd be quite pleased that I'm willing to give up on it."

"Mm-hmm," Mad-Eye was squinting at Tonks, trying to figure her angle. "What's this really about?"

"The Whomping Willow needs no protector! I've seen that nasty tree punt a bird clear across the grounds, sir. Done nothing but sing it's morning tune merrily and what's that bloody bastard of a tree do but whomp it! Nothing but feathers and a streak of blue, like a comet across the sky..." Tonks raised a hand, drawing an arch over Moody's desk that his head turned to follow. "Tw-tweeeeet!" Tonks added, giving sound effect to her imaginary bird.

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