"Oh my God, are you a member of the Order of the Phoenix? I've always wanted to join, but they disbanded ages ago," Tonks said excitedly.
"No, I'm not actually a member, but I do help them out sometimes. And the Order hasn't really disbanded—you might still get your chance one day," Sullivan explained.
Tonks looked skeptical. "Really? But You-Know-Who's dead. Would they even recruit new people now?"
Sullivan didn't push the topic any further. They ducked into an alley, and he pulled a Bentley toy car model from his bag, setting it on the ground.
With a light tap of his wand, the little car inflated like a balloon and quickly grew into a full-sized real one.
Tonks eyed it curiously but teased, "Sullivan , you've been tampering with Muggle artifacts. That's illegal in Britain!"
"So, are you gonna arrest me?" Sullivan put on a perfectly pitiful expression.
Tonks blinked and grinned mischievously. "Of course not~ I'm not from the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office—this isn't my department."
Sullivan stowed his luggage in the trunk and asked, "Front seat or back?"
Tonks was still admiring the car. She looked up. "Is there a difference?"
"Front's just like a normal Muggle car," Sullivan said. "The back's something I modified—it's basically a whole apartment in there."
Tonks thought for a second. "Front, then. I've never ridden in a Muggle car before."
Once they were inside, Tonks turned into a total kid in a candy store, poking and prodding everything. "I can't believe it—Muggles actually built machines that can drive themselves."
Sullivan started the engine and said, "Never underestimate Muggles. The strongest weapons they've got these days could wipe out all of London in a single second—nothing left but scorched earth."
Tonks stared at him for a long time, trying to figure out if he was joking. Finally she said, "No way—that's impossible!"
Sullivan knew there was no explaining that kind of thing to a pure-blood witch, so he changed the subject. They chatted casually as he drove them to his place on the Thames riverbank.
It was a classic British red-brick standalone house—low and cozy. Even after more than a decade, the Muggle-Repelling Charms and Confundus Charms were still working perfectly; no Muggle could ever notice it was there.
When they stepped inside, the place was huge—five levels including the basement—but it was a total wreck. Floors, ceilings, walls: everything was covered in scorch marks and blast damage from old spells.
"Merlin's beard, Sullivan ! How many Death Eaters did you fight in here before you left?" Tonks exclaimed, staring at the devastation.
"Heh, not that many—just about ten," Sullivan said lightly, waving it off like it was nothing.
"You were all alone?" Tonks's eyes were practically sparkling with admiration.
"Of course. Barging into an alchemist's house uninvited is never a smart move. Sure, it was just me, but the house was full of my little gadgets."
"If I remember right, two Death Eaters died and four were injured in that fight," he added, rattling off his score.
"How'd you get away in the end?" Tonks asked.
"Portkey," Sullivan said. "From the first day I started opposing Voldemort, I knew something like this might happen. So I prepared one in advance. It took me straight to France, and from there I made my way to America."
As they talked, they headed down to the basement. Sullivan rummaged through the rubble until he found a small black bead. His face lit up—he pocketed it happily.
"Alright, next job: get this place back to normal. As payment, you can have permanent rights to one of the rooms. That way you won't have to hunt for a flat nearby," he told Tonks.
"That's a massive project!" Tonks said, frowning.
Over the next three days, the two of them worked nonstop in the house, casting Reparo over and over to restore everything.
Purely physical damage would've been easy enough, but most of it was magical—lots of it dark magic at that. Even after all these years, the evil residue lingered. Sullivan ended up crafting a few dark-magic absorbers before they finally cleared it all out.
With his magic level jumping two grades in the process, Sullivan could feel himself getting even smoother and more confident with alchemy. It probably wouldn't be long before he hit Alchemy Level 9 on his own.
For the month after that, Sullivan pretty much camped out in the newly fixed basement, buried in his research.
His main project was still the magical phone. It had plenty of problems right now: first, it was crazy expensive—raw materials alone cost ten Galleons.
Second, the crafting process was insanely complicated. One tiny phone had to pack in Floo-transfer runes, information-processing runes, display runes, input runes, and more. Everything had to be done by hand, and it took forever.
Finally, the features were super limited. Without a central server, it was basically a bare-bones version of WhatsApp—just adding friends and simple chatting.
Even after a full month of work, he hadn't made any huge breakthroughs, though he did manage to build a few more units.
At the end of August, Tonks came to find him. "Sullivan , the Ministry's latest orders—they're pulling my protection detail. I think I have to go."
"Oh? Why's that?" Sullivan asked, genuinely curious. Of course he knew this so-called "protection" was just a polite word for surveillance.
Him showing up in Britain as an alchemist cooperating with MACUSA naturally made the British Ministry of Magic see him as a suspicious foreign wizard. What he didn't get was why they were suddenly dropping the watch.
Tonks shrugged. "Probably because Professor Dumbledore vouched for you to the Ministry. He promised he'd be responsible for your safety while you're at Hogwarts."
That made sense—old Dumbledore stepping in. Sullivan nodded. "Fair enough. I'm heading to the school in a couple days anyway. Before you go, I've got two things for you."
After a month living together, Tonks and Sullivan had become real friends. He really liked her personality—kind, straightforward, honest, optimistic, and sometimes a little clumsy in the cutest way.
"What are they?" Tonks asked, eyes lighting up. After a month around him, she knew exactly how incredible his alchemy skills were.
"First one—you've been eyeing this for ages, right?" Sullivan pulled out a Colt Python revolver.
Tonks nodded like a bobblehead. She still remembered clear as day how he'd taken her down with something like this in just a few shots.
"Is this the same alchemical tool you used to beat me?" she asked excitedly.
Sullivan rubbed his nose. "It's a magical handgun—same series as the one I used back then, but a slightly different model."
"Channel magic into it and pull the trigger to fire spells. Six chambers: Expelliarmus, Petrificus Totalus, Incendio, Langlock, Stupefy, and Confringo."
"You'll get the hang of it with practice. My advice, though—only use it if you really have to. It won't do your actual spellcasting skills any favors."
"Got it, got it!" Tonks took the gun happily, stroking it gently like a kid with a brand-new toy.