Their anniversary was a hot summer’s night, and Remus booked a table in a little wizard-run restaurant with outdoor tables, on the side of the Thames. Remus, who had promised to bring her a present, had settled for a bushel of roses and a silver necklace with a semi-precious stone in the centre. Tonks leaned across the table, pushing her hair off her neck (it was still bright pink, but for once she had it worn long, with small braids lacing through) and offering her neck so that Remus could put it on her.

“Happy anniversary, Nymphadora!”

“It’s Tonks!”