As I helped Tonks regain her balance, my hand still resting at her waist, she let out a small, embarrassed huff of laughter.
"I really ought to stop tripping over air," she muttered.
"Or," I said lightly, making no move to release her just yet, "you could accept that destiny clearly enjoys throwing you directly into my arms."
Her blush deepened instantly, spreading across her cheeks as her hair flickered through three different shades before settling stubbornly back into pink.
I smiled. "Speaking of destiny, it's about lunchtime. Since fate has brought us together again, how about we go eat together?"
She hesitated, biting her lower lip as she considered it, eyes darting briefly toward the busy corridor behind us. For a moment I thought she might refuse.
Then she sighed.
"Alright," she said. "It is my lunch break too. But it has to be short." She pulled a face. "I've got work waiting. Those stupid reports aren't going to write themselves."
I finally stepped back, hands lifting in surrender. "My condolences. Bureaucracy truly is the most insidious dark art."
She snorted, shoulders relaxing. "Tell me about it."
As we started walking toward the exit, I glanced sideways at her. "Auror work isn't quite as thrilling as they make it sound, is it?"
She made a vague, dismissive gesture with one hand. "Not unless you count filing hex damage assessments and rewriting witness statements for the fifth time."
I winced in sympathy. "I had a very similar revelation when I started teaching at Hogwarts. I thought it would be standing in front of a class, dazzling young minds with practical demonstrations and the occasional inspirational speech."
She shot me a sideways look, clearly amused.
"Unfortunately," I continued, "there's an alarming amount of work that exists outside the classroom. Essays to grade. Patrol duties. Staff meetings. Endless staff meetings. Honestly, it's practically a full-time job."
She laughed. "Practically?"
"They should really pay more for it," I finished gravely.
Tonks nodded vigorously as we reached the Ministry exit. "Exactly! Everyone thinks Aurors are chasing dark wizards all day, but most of the time it's paperwork. My first year was different, though."
"Oh?" I prompted as we stepped into the elevator that would take us up to the small, unassuming telephone booth.
"I was apprenticed to Mad-Eye Moody," she said, pushing the door shut and dialing with far more force than strictly necessary. "So everything was exciting. Terrifying. Occasionally explosive. It was honestly great. Even if he is completely mental."
The elevator rattled as we ascended.
"But once I became a junior Auror," she went on, voice dropping slightly with the motion, "I realised Moody was a special case. He doesn't drown in paperwork like the rest of us."
"Tragic," I said solemnly. "To glimpse greatness and then be buried under forms."
The booth doors opened onto Muggle London, the sudden noise and movement a sharp contrast to the Ministry's controlled chaos. Without breaking stride, we both transfigured our robes.
Tonks's Auror uniform shimmered and reformed into a fitted leather jacket, dark jeans, and heavy boots. I opted for a black trench coat over a crisp shirt, the fabric settling comfortably around my shoulders.
She glanced at me approvingly. "Not bad."
"I do try," I replied smoothly.
She tilted her head toward the street. "You okay with fast food? There's a burger place around the corner."
"That sounds perfect," I said without hesitation. "It's been ages since I've had a proper burger and a soda. I barely spend any time on the Muggle side these days."
Her expression brightened immediately, her steps gaining a bit of bounce. "I don't know how wizards survive without it. Muggle food is amazing."
"Careful," I teased. "That sounds dangerously close to heresy."
She waved a hand dismissively. "Wizards are so antiquated. Same meals, same recipes, century after century. No innovation. No experimentation. Meanwhile, Muggles invent a new way to deep-fry something every other week."
I laughed as we turned the corner, the smell of grilled meat already drifting through the air. "You make a compelling argument."
She grinned up at me, pink hair catching the sunlight. "Just wait until you try their milkshakes."
For once, paperwork, politics, and the weight of the Wizengamot felt very far away.
…
The place was small, bright, and loud in that comforting Muggle way; grease in the air, the hiss of a grill somewhere behind the counter, and music playing just loudly enough to be impossible to ignore. Tonks relaxed the moment we stepped inside, shoulders loosening as though she'd crossed some invisible boundary between duty and freedom.
She stepped up to the counter without hesitation.
"Cheeseburger, chips, and a chocolate milkshake," she said cheerfully, leaning her elbows on the worn laminate.
I followed suit. "The same," I added, then paused. "Actually, make the burger double. And extra bacon."
Tonks snorted, glancing sideways at me. "Of course you want extra bacon."
"Ambition applies to all aspects of life," I replied solemnly.
The cashier rattled off the total, and I reached automatically for my pocket.
…And found absolutely nothing useful, only a handful of galleons and sickles that definitely couldn't be used as Muggle currency.
I froze for half a second, then turned my head slowly toward Tonks, offering what I hoped was an endearing smile rather than a guilty one.
"Would you believe," I said lightly, "that I seem to have neglected to bring any pounds with me?"
Her eyebrows shot up.
"You're serious?"
"I'm devastated," I assured her. "Truly."
She stared at me for a moment longer, then burst out laughing and slapped a few notes onto the counter. "Unbelievable. The great Gilderoy Lockhart, reduced to sponging lunch off a poor Auror."
"I prefer to think of it as… strategic reliance on capable allies," I said as we moved aside to wait.
"Oh, don't try to spin it," she teased, folding her arms as we leaned against the counter. "You're broke. Completely helpless. One missed cheeseburger away from ruin."
I placed a hand over my heart. "This humiliation will haunt me forever."
She grinned at that, eyes bright, hair flickering briefly to a mischievous turquoise before settling back into pink. I watched it absently, still not entirely used to how expressive she was even when she wasn't trying to be.
"I'll make it up to you," I said smoothly. "Next time, I'll take you somewhere extravagant. Candlelight. Wine. Ridiculously overpriced food served in portions small enough to offend."
Her grin turned sly. "Next time, huh?"
I blinked, then smiled wider. "Well, yes. Fair's fair."
She tilted her head, studying me, then her expression shifted suddenly into exaggerated enlightenment. "Ohhh. I see."
I raised an eyebrow. "Do you?"
"So this was your plan all along," she said, pointing an accusatory finger at my chest. "You weren't broke. You were securing a second date."
I laughed. "Now that's just slander."
She leaned closer, eyes sparkling. "Was it?"
I met her gaze without flinching. "Did it work?"
She huffed, looking away as her cheeks warmed again. "You totally got me there."
A moment later, she glanced back, jabbing her finger at me once more. "But you'd better make it worth it, Lockhart."
I inclined my head solemnly. "I would never dare do otherwise."
Our order number was called then, saving me from having to prove that claim immediately.
As we collected our tray and headed for a small corner table, I couldn't help thinking that fate, or clumsiness, at least, had remarkably good timing.
And if this was what my lunch breaks were going to look like now?
Well.
The Ministry might finally start growing on me.
…
When our food arrived and we finally sat down, I barely waited before taking a bite of my burger.
Merlin.
I very nearly moaned.
Juice, grease, melted cheese, crispy bacon, absolute perfection. I swallowed hastily, vaguely aware that making that sound in public might send the wrong message.
Across from me, Tonks took her first bite as well, and for a brief second I noticed her hair flicker through three different colours before settling back into pink.
I raised a brow. "You know," I said mildly, "shouldn't you try to hide that in front of Muggles?"
She shrugged, entirely unbothered, chewing happily. "You'd be surprised how much you can get away with by just saying it's a trick of the light. Muggles themselves come up with excuses to pretend everything is perfectly normal."
I opened my mouth to argue when she suddenly leaned forward and shook her nose.
It reshaped itself into a duck's beak.
I froze.
She turned casually toward a small boy at the next table. The kid gasped, eyes wide, then tugged on his mother's sleeve.
"Mum! That lady's face…!"
His mother barely glanced up. "It's just a trick, Bobby. Eat your chips."
Tonks turned back to me, one eyebrow raised smugly, nose already back to normal.
"See?"
I snorted, shaking my head. "You still should be more careful. You never know who's watching."
She rolled her eyes, popping a chip into her mouth. "You sound like my mum."
I smiled over my burger. "Then she must be a very smart woman."
She paused for half a second, then laughed, leaning back in her chair.
…
We kept up the easy rhythm of small talk and shameless flirting until the clock on the wall betrayed us.
Tonks glanced at it and groaned softly. "Merlin's beard… I really have to go." She hesitated, fingers lingering around her milkshake cup longer than necessary. "This was fun, though. And-" she tilted her head, eyes flicking up to meet mine, "-about that dinner date you mentioned…"
I leaned in just enough to make the moment feel intentional, meeting her gaze steadily. "I'll owl you the details."
Her eyes brightened instantly, like she'd just cast a Lumos with them. "Alright," she said, smiling wide. "I'll be waiting. But don't you dare make me wait too long."
There was something in her tone then; light, joking, but with a faint edge that suggested she'd been disappointed before. I chose, wisely, not to poke at that.
"I wouldn't dream of it, Tonksie," I replied smoothly.
She blinked at the nickname, clearly caught off guard.
Before she could recover, I reached for her hand, lifting it just enough to press a brief, deliberate kiss against her knuckles. Not rushed. Not exaggerated. Just enough to make a point.
"I can't wait for our next meeting."
The effect was immediate.
Her blush bloomed furiously, hair flickering bright red before settling back into pink. "I, bye!" she blurted, turning far too quickly and nearly tripping over her own feet again.
She caught herself at the last second, shot me a flustered look over her shoulder, and hurried out.
I leaned back in my chair, watching the door swing shut behind her.
Chuckling softly to myself.
Yes.
This was definitely going to be interesting.
…
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