Title: Tonks Restored
Rating: K+
Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter world or its characters. J. K. Rowling does.
Summary: Tonks is held prisoner, and Remus has to rescue her. TonksRemus friendship. Not romance. Remus's POV. HBP spoilers. Mild slashy references, RLSB and NTHJ. One shot. Complete.
When the truth hit me with its terrible implications, I couldn't look at Tonks, and for a moment I couldn't say anything that made sense. I repeated what I had been saying all year, then Molly made some stupid remark, and I got a grip on myself again. Hagrid came in, and everyone's attention turned to him, so I took the opportunity to get Tonks and me out of the room, telling her we needed to have a talk, or some such hackneyed phrase.
One room that was likely to be empty was Severus's office. On the way there I told myself what a fool I had been. How could I have missed seeing what was right under my nose for nearly a year? Well, quite easily, really. I had been so wrapped up in my own grief, and so sunk in self-pity over my wretched life with Greyback and the werewolves, that I had failed to notice what should have been blindingly obvious. And because of my negligence, someone I should have been looking out for was suffering and might die – might already be dead –
I hung back so that Tonks preceded me into the office, and immediately I disarmed and immobilised her. After I had secured the door with a charm, I said "I know you can hear me, Peter. So we'll just wait, shall we? It can't take more than an hour. Probably much less."
Tonks's eyes were wide and frightened, looking into mine as I held my wand ready. Sure enough, in less than fifteen minutes the eyes started turning light blue, the hair paled and receded, the nose sharpened, and one hand – the mark of his terrible servitude – turned silver. I released him from the spell but kept my wand pointed at him.
He spoke first. "How did you know?"
"Polyjuice lets you imitate a person's physical appearance, but you can't fake their character. Tonks has dignity and self-respect, and you have neither. I would have seen it months ago, were I not preoccupied."
"But you called me Peter."
"That is your name, is it not? One of your names. If you prefer to be called Wormtail or Scabbers, I will of course……"
"I mean, how did you know it was me?"
"You gave yourself away when you grabbed my robes. I remembered when I had seen something like that before; in the Shrieking Shack when you begged mercy of each of us in turn. You abased yourself in much the same manner then. But I'll ask the questions now. Why did you do it?"
"I was to get close to you, to find out what you were really up to. They didn't trust you, they thought you might be an agent for the other side. I was to spend as much time as I could with you when you weren't with the werewolves, day and night if possible, and get you to open up to me."
"And of course Polyjuice couldn't give you the Metamorphmagus ability, so you reverted to her basic appearance. But if it had worked – if I had responded to you – that would have put you in an awkward position."
"Not really." He stared defiantly at me. I didn't understand, at first.
"Oh, no," I said, beginning to grasp his meaning. "How long?"
"Since – I don't know – the beginning."
"But it was James, always James you hero-worshipped. And what about Mel? The girl we thought you loved, the one you were going to marry?"
"I admired James. And I did love Mel. But I lusted for you."
For a moment I was overwhelmed by pity and shame for my own lack of perception. I had made him suffer, not on purpose, but nevertheless……how much had my careless treatment of him contributed to his treachery?
"This is……this is……it's wasting time, that's what it is," I said finally. "The important thing now is, what have you done with Tonks? Where is she?"
"What if I don't tell you?"
"What if I make you?"
He laughed then. "Cruciatus? You don't have it in you," he said.
"You'd be surprised," I said, but that was bravado. I wondered if I would. Imperius? Yes, I cast rather a good Imperius. But he would fight it, and that would take time, time Tonks might not have. I immobilised him again and left him, putting a strong locking charm on the door.
Slughorn was not amenable, even when he remembered who I was, even when I emphasised that it was Andromeda's daughter whose life was at stake.
"Couldn't possibly, dear boy, veritaserum is strictly controlled, more than my job's worth, I could be sent to Azkaban for less! Nothing would make me do it, not even the Imperius curse itself!"
The sly devil, I thought. I saw his meaning. Covering his back, shifting all the responsibility on to me. Fair enough, it was my idea. "Imperio."
I was right. For an old, strong, experienced wizard, he put up no fight at all. I commanded him much more easily than I should have. Within three minutes we were in Severus's office administering the veritaserum and questioning Peter.
"Snape's place at Spinner's End," Peter said. "In the cellar."
At that moment we heard Hagrid calling: "Professor Slughorn! Where are yer? Yer wanted in the headmaster's office, right now!"
I released Slughorn from Imperius – not that I thought it necessary – and he hurried to obey the summons, leaving me with the problem of what to do with Peter. In part I wanted to take him with me - I might need his further help in locating Tonks – but the need to keep him under control would hinder me to such an extent that his presence would probably be more trouble than it was worth. I Stupefied him and locked him in a broom cupboard with a particularly powerful locking charm, then, taking two serviceable-looking brooms, I left the castle.
I flew to Hogsmeade and decided to Apparate the rest of the way to Severus's place, as flying there would have taken hours. I had little fear of finding him at home. I was somewhat apprehensive of encountering Aurors staking out his house, but when I Disapparated in the deserted street I saw no-one, wizard or Muggle.
I approached the building cautiously; it was sure to be well warded. Avoiding the door, I touched the wall with my wand and said "Perspicio". The wall became transparent and by the dim light of my wand I could see into Severus's little sitting-room, cluttered with books but empty of people. My spell – learned years before in Durmstrang – had the additional effect of revealing the presence of magic, rendering it visible as a faint green light, most evident around the door. As I expected, Apparating into the house would be impossible without some very time-consuming deconstruction of the wards. I picked up a broken piece of brick from the rubble on the derelict street, and hurled it through the window, following it quickly. These Muggle tricks come in useful sometimes.
I lit Severus's lamp and looked around, but before I could locate the stairs to the cellar I heard a low growl behind me. Turning, I saw a large black dog with glowing red eyes and unnaturally long fangs which it was baring in a decidedly hostile snarl. It growled again, crouching, then leapt forward, its fangs aimed at my throat. I stood unmoving while the animal passed harmlessly through me and dissolved into the air, as I had been about 99 percent sure it would. I had encountered such guardians before; projections of mental force with no physical being and no power to do anything but frighten. It was interesting, however, and somewhat unnerving, to note that Severus had chosen the form of a black dog for his sentinel.
Searching again for a door to lead me downwards, I observed what appeared to be a mirror hanging on the wall. I knew it for a Foe-glass, and was surprised to see in it only vague, unidentifiable figures moving about at a distance. I would have expected to see myself there in the foreground, and my absence raised the question: did Severus then not consider me his enemy? Interesting. But I had no time to ponder this information.
"Ostia apparere!" I said, trying to speed things up, and two hitherto concealed doors appeared, one opening to stairs leading upwards, and the other the one I sought. The steps to the cellar were thickly overlaid with the green magic-revealing light. As I walked cautiously towards them I heard a plaintive squeaking noise. Turning, I saw a tiny black-and-white kitten on the floor behind me. My impulse was to pick it up and pet it, then look for some food for it. Who would have thought Severus would own such a charming little creature? Who indeed. I stepped away from it. It mewed again, pleadingly. I pointed my wand at it and watched it change shape, becoming a black-and-white snake. Anguis Armata. The rarest and most dangerous magical beast never recorded by Newt Scamander. Only a handful of wizards had ever seen one.
This, then, was the real guardian of Spinner's End. The black dog had been a mere spectre, something to frighten off Muggle thieves and hooligan children who might have thought the one occupied house in a derelict street easy prey. But if I had touched Armata, I would be dead by now. It did not need its venomous fangs, for the poison was in its skin too and the least contact with it was instant death. Even after the snake itself was dead, its skin remained lethal. In a museum at Durmstrang I saw a spear tipped with Armata skin, reputed to have belonged to Salazar Slytherin. It gave out an air of menace from its glass case. It was the deadliest weapon I had ever seen and I did not dare to look long at it, because I could feel an emanation from it attacking my eyes. People have been blinded by looking too long at Armata, dead or alive.
I could not use any conventional charm against the snake, not even Avada Kedavra. Wizards who attacked Armata magically were lucky if they escaped with their lives, because its armoured skin deflected every charm but one, rebounding them on the wizard who cast them. My studies at Durmstrang served me well again. "Ophiopetrificus!" I said, keeping my wand aimed at the snake. A muddled but extremely potent spell, effective against Armata and no other creature. Even so, a little of the charm bounced back, sending a wave of exhaustion washing over me. But when I recovered, the snake was lying immobile. That would hold it for a good hour.
I smelled the sweet scent before I saw the cloud of yellow-green gas, and instinctively employed the Bubblehead charm so that the Lotusvapour drifted harmlessly past me and out of the window which I had fortunately not taken the time to repair. Had I inhaled the gas, I would have been overcome by total lethargy; sunk into a happy apathy I would have forgotten what I was supposed to be doing and sat on the floor, absorbed in blissful hallucinations until I starved to death. As it was, the trace of vapour I had breathed in was enough to induce a rush of euphoria such that I nearly ran heedlessly down the cellar steps. I collected my wits just in time, lifted the Bubblehead charm, and examined the stairs carefully.
There were thirteen. The fourth from the top was particularly perilous; I detected the end of a wormhole. Anyone stepping on it would be transported – where, I did not know. The street outside, or the centre of the sun, perhaps. I had no idea what hazards the other steps represented, and rather than spend time trying to investigate them, I mounted the broomstick and flew down.
Severus – or Peter – must have had a lot of confidence in the guards and booby-traps, because the heavy oak door at the bottom of the steps yielded to a simple Alohomora. Tonks had been kept in complete darkness, so that even the light from my wand combined with the soft glow from Severus's lamp made her blink.
"Who are you?" she called in a cracked voice. "Where's Peter? Remus, is that you?"
I hurried to her and worked quickly to remove the restraints, magical and physical, which had been placed on her, before helping her to her feet.
"Do you think you can fly upstairs?" I asked her. "I brought a spare broom for you. The steps all seem to be charmed."
"I know. I've seen Peter going up and down often enough. I can guide you. The first step's okay, but you have to step over the second, then step twice with both feet on the third. Then skip the fourth and sixth……" I marvelled at her presence of mind in observing and memorising the safe passage up the stairs; clearly she had hoped to be able to use it if Peter got careless with the restraints one day.
"The tenth one's especially dangerous," she said, "be sure not to touch it."
"I know," I said, "it's a wormhole."
"Whatever will they think of next," she muttered under her breath, and almost laughed. Then we were at the top of the stairs. The Armata snake was still Stupefied. I wished I could give Tonks something to eat, or some reviving potion, but I had not thought to bring anything with me and I would not trust anything Severus had in his house.
In the street, it was still dark and there was no-one about. "We need to get away from here fast," I said. "Going to have to ask you to Apparate, but I'll help you."
Holding firmly to Tonks and the two broomsticks, I Apparated back to Hogsmeade and from there we flew to the castle. In the air, I glanced at Tonks. She was looking much better; some colour had returned to her face and her grip on the broom was expert.
"How are you feeling?" I shouted to her.
"Starving," she replied, grinning.
In the castle we met Nearly Headless Nick outside the Great Hall. "You've missed all the excitement," he said.
"I wouldn't quite say that," I began, but he interrupted me.
"Seems Filch couldn't get into one of his cupboards, so he asked Professor McGonagall to help. She found a very powerful charm on it but managed to get it open and inside there was a man, tied up and Stupefied! The minute she released him he turned into a rat and legged it. I wonder who that could have been?"
"I wonder," I said.
Nick winked at me and disappeared.
I should have been furious, but found myself vaguely, inexplicably relieved. Peter would get what was coming to him in the end, but in some strange way I was glad it would not be now, and not through my doing. I turned to Tonks.
"Come on, let's get you to the hospital wing and ask Poppy to take a look at you."
"I will, honest, but please, can't we have something to eat first? They hardly fed me at all in that place."
Memories of midnight maraudings rushed back as I opened the door to the kitchens, and we were surrounded by curious, chattering house-elves. Only one of them was unfriendly, and him I knew too well.
"Don't give them any food!" Kreacher screeched. "They've no right to eat here! They're not students, they're not professors! Half-blood trash, that's what they are! That one's the daughter of the blood-traitor Andromeda, and the other's a……"
His tirade was cut off by Dobby, who pushed him to the ground.
"Take no notice, sir and madam!" Dobby said. "Please, sit here. Dobby will serve you himself." Turning to the other elves, he said "They are friends of Harry Potter. Any friend of Harry Potter is welcome here."
Sandwiches and pies and cakes were brought, and goblets of pumpkin juice and Butterbeer. Kreacher, heavily outnumbered, retreated grumbling to the far end of the kitchen. While we ate, I brought Tonks up to date, beginning with Dumbledore's death. Embarrassing though it was, I could not avoid telling her the purpose of Peter's impersonation of her, something she seemed to find highly amusing.
"And when you've seen Poppy, you'll be wanting to visit your parents," I said. "They haven't seen you all year. The rat didn't dare go near them, they'd have spotted him for an impostor straight off."
Tonks grinned. "Yes, of course I will. But first I need to find Hestia. In view of what you've told me, I've got some explaining to do."
"To Hestia? But why……Oh!"
"You didn't know about me and Hestia? I think that's one up to me, then. I knew all about you and Sirius."
"Everyone knew all about me and Sirius," I said. That was true. Everyone, including Minerva, Molly and Arthur. I was going to have words with Minerva about her crass remark in the hospital wing. I had thought she was on my side, I thought I could trust her. As for Molly – there was no arguing with monumental stupidity. I just wouldn't be spending much time at the Burrow from now on. I would miss Arthur, but not as much as I would enjoy being free from Molly.
Tonks looked suddenly sober. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.
"It's all right," I told her. "I'm all right. I'm not going to go to pieces because somebody says his name. I can say it myself. Sirius. He was my lover, and now he's dead. He died fighting evil, in the cause of the Light, and if I live my life in the same way, when my time comes I'll be with him for ever. I was with him twice, and lost him twice, but I'll never lose him again."
"You may have years to live yet," she said.
"I have patience."
"You never know, you could find someone else to love in the meantime."
"Maybe," I said, because it was easier than arguing with her.
"Not me," she added hastily.
I laughed. "Not you. I like you far too much as a friend. Did you know, your hair's turning pink again already?"