The Marauders - Order of the Phoenix - Part Two

XLVII: 10 March, 1994

It was Thursday and Remus had taught three classes - first year Gryffindors and Slytherins together (always an exhausting bunch, why Dumbledore thought it smart to pair those two houses together was beyond Remus's comprehension), fourth year blend that contained mainly Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, and finally the motley collection of sixth years who were aiming for their NEWTs.

After the 6th years had left following their lesson, Remus was free until Harry's anti-dementor lesson at eight o'clock, so he went to his office and set himself to grading papers, concentrating very hard on the task. It was a harder job than it ought to have been because there was something that seemed to be nagging at him that he couldn't quite place a name to, and he kept getting distracted, standing up and wandering a lap or two around the office, doing things like tending the fireplace and setting a kettle on or watering the Wiggentree that stood in windows.

"I can't bloody concentrate for shite," he muttered, shaking his head as he shook off the temptation to set a spell to grade the papers laid out before him, rather than grading them properly. The only argument that convinced him was that he hadn't yet read Harry's paper and he didn't think it fair to skip ahead to Harry's and he didn't want to grade Harry's by magic, either, so he trudged onward through Seamus Finnigan's paper, sighing and re-reading the third paragraph at least three times without it's meaning sinking in.

Of course, probably about ten percent of the lack of meaning was on his comprehension skills while ninety had more to do with the content itself... Seamus clearly hadn't read the text. But of course he hadn't - Remus already was aware that Seamus was much better at the practical portion of classwork and he'd already taken that into consideration while doing grading on other assignments, using an adjusted curve specifically designed to fit Seamus's learning style.

But bloody hell, the paper was going to be the death of Remus, he was sure of it.

It was about six when a knock came on his door.

"Too early for it to be Harry," Remus murmured, surprised by the arrival of anybody... 

He supposed it was most likely Percy Weasley inquiring about some assignment or another. The eldest of the Weasley boys at Hogwarts had taken to pestering Remus near to constantly about what would be on this year's N.E.W.T. because he'd heard that Remus had been specially selected by the N.E.W.T. review board to be allowed to design his own exam upon Remus's request that the exam be altered from an all-written to a practical, similar to how Transfiguration and Charms were done.

Remus stood up, slid one hand into his pocket, and opened the door of his office with the other, readying his gentle dismissal for Percy, but he was surprised to find it wasn't Percy on the other side of the door.

"Wotcher, Remus!"

Tonks's hair was  bright cyan-blue, her eye shadow dark purple with opalescent white eyeliner and a jumper that looked like a pink muppet pelt over a denim skirt and black boots like Sirius had always worn, but they tied up to her knees. She was holding a package, wrapped with a huge red bow.

"Happy Birthday, Remus!" She squealed excitedly.

"I - what?" Remus shook his head. It wasn't seriously his birthday, was it? He looked down at the watch on his wrist, which had a date component, as well as a moon cycle component that spun about the edges. 

Bloody hell, it really is the 10th.

"Your birthday, Remus!" Tonks smiled widely, "You know? Celebration of the day you were born??" She danced past him, spinning 'round once inside so she was stepping backwards from where he was, facing him as he closed the office door as he followed her. "I reckon you've done it once a year since - what? '61? '62?