And Tonks did laugh, then. A lot. Maybe more than she should have. It was the mental images that did her in, really. She had to fight for composure, closing her eyes and finding that only made the images in her mind worse which made her laugh that much harder. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," She gasped, "Just.." And she took a deep breath, hoping to steady herself even when the effort to not laugh was downright visible, "When he's being sweet and domestic, does that come with a frilly apron?" And she laughed again, covering her face with her hands, "No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't poke fun. Just um. Tell me," She looked at him through her fingers, "Does being an attentive nurse come with a uniform? And does that uniform include a miniskirt? And are there pictures?"
"Oi!" She gasped, trying not to laugh, "We do a lot of things between standing around guarding stuff and dueling!" It wasn't a good sign when Tonks had to stop and think about those things for a second, "...Once we gave Moody a make over. And then there was the time we completely filled Scrimgeour's office with bouncy balls. Manually, mind you!"
If the man was mad then his madness was almost as infectious as his good humour, and Tonks was somewhat surprised to find herself at ease under such a serious topic. Normally she wasn't one for serious anyway, but this wasn't exactly a normal conversation. Still she took a sobering breath, trying to remind herself this was business, after all. "I know they do it anyway, but are they legally allowed to turn werewolves away in Mungos? Despite the pressure from the public about infections and things?"
Auror or no, Tonks actually found herself somewhat shocked by the raw intensity of the scar on his arm, and she tried hard not to think too much about how it had gotten there. "Now, see. Something like that would pass the time between those boring Guard Duties in the DMLE right quick. You could win a hell of a lot of scar bragging contests that way. Free drinks."
Tonks shook her head, sighing dispassionately and flopping back. "That's the problem. Neither I nor MLE knows anything about James. No leads, no clues, nothing and I can't help but wonder if that isn't suspicious. For one, there have been no demands. Nothing. No rhyme or reason as to why this happened, or why." No assurances that James was still alive, either, but that she didn't want buzzing about Lupin's head, no matter how strong willed he seemed. Not yet. Not until she had something more solid. Tonks sighed again, "For two, we have a list. A list of names, three families we're sure were tied to old leatherface. If James was on somekind of hitlist because of what happened back then, these people would know it. But here's the problem: We can't touch them. Every time we try putting in anything for an interrogation or a search of their house we get turned down." She shook her head, making an aggravated sound, "It's ridiculous. Impossible, even. What about you, you knew Pettigrew. You have any idea why he'd do this? Hell, or even if he'd been capable of doing this on his own? I remember from what Sirius used to tell me the rat wasn't the biggest go-getter out there. Hard picturing that man as some scheming criminal mastermind able to easily take down James Potter."