Tonks

Suddenly there's a series of crashes and clangings from the pantry. (Clearly someone is failing Mad Eye's warning. Hopefully Tonks won't be the one blamed.) The slatted wooden doors fly violently open, spitting a tall, curve-backed, gangly man out backwards into the kitchen. His wand's in his hand—and despite his unthreatening figure and (ragged) librarianlike choice of clothes, there's clear technique in how, no matter how he stumbles, the wand never loses its aim. Another surprise: the resonance of his voice when he shouts, "Oh, no, you don't!" and he dives straight back in. There's further scuffling, a distinctly nonhuman screeching, and the man shouting out spells so rapidly they're almost unintelligible.

Then, silence.

The doors swung softly open; and the man stepped out, much dishevelled, wand now down at his side. His other hand was raised, holding a crystal on a chain. The instant he spotted another figure, his wand whipped back up to dueling stance—then he actually saw Tonks and lowered it again.

"I'm so sorry!" he said. His voice and expression were now very gentle. Also, sheepish. He looked from her to the pendant, then awkwardly held it out. "Um… can I offer you a Gringwart Goff trapped in a crystal palimpsest?"