Tonks limped up the steps of Grimmauld Place, leaning heavily on a cane.
"Hah!" Moody snorted after he ascertained her identity and gave her entry, his magical eye revolving faster as he examined her stance. "Never, never trust a green Auror at your back – they'll get you every time. A friend of yours is here on Albus's business – very peculiar woman."
"Moody, he's been an Auror a year longer than I have! And it wasn't really his fault, some old man's Voldemort-in-the-privy turned out to be a Boggart-in-the-privy," Tonks replied virtuously. She couldn't help but smirk at the memory of Pratchett Gilhooley's pop-eyed horror – the other Auror had made no secret of his disdain for Tonks's mixed blood and slapdash manner, and it had been satisfying to see his excessive reaction despite the pain his misfired hex was causing her. "Friend? Who?"
"Name of Hooch. Quidditch mistress at Hogwarts. Worked for the Order last time around, unofficially as it were, too, but refuses to join it full-fold for 'family reasons'." Moody grunted suspiciously, clearly not pleased at this, but unable to find any other reason to mistrust Hooch.
"Aces, didn't think I'd get to see her this week, with this hip. And she's half Hyter Sprite – because it's a human conflict, if she joined us, one of her gente would have to join Voldemort's lot to balance it out, and we don't need that." Tonks smiled, turning more quickly in her eagerness to get to the kitchen – her meetings with Hooch were becoming by far the best part of her week, even when she didn't succeed with the fighting stances she was learning.
Unfortunately, she moved too quickly with her bad hip and dropped her cane against the wall and portrait – she felt a simultaneously shooting pain down her side and resounding in her head as her aunt's loathsome portrait started to shriek:
"Degenerates! Mudbloods! Disgraceful castoffs, shames to the family name, sub-human perverted freaks, traitors..." Moody growled and forced the curtain over it again to muffle it, mostly unsuccessfully.
"Tonks!" Molly Weasley rushed through the door, scolding in exasperation even before she saw Tonks. "Dear, can you not try to be a little more graceful?! Every time... How is anyone supposed to get anything done around here! If it's not the children, it's the grown Aurors..." Tonks stood uncomfortably, teeth gritted as she cocked her head, smiling sheepishly – she was quite fond of the Weasley children and of Arthur Weasley, and she respected Molly, but she was growing increasingly exasperated with Molly Weasley's belittling treatment of her.
"She couldn't avoid it because she's injured, Molly," came a sharp but welcome voice as Madame Hooch, still wearing her Hogwarts robes open over her preferred comfortable trousers and blouse, pushed past the red-headed woman to reach Tonks's side. She smiled down at her, placing a supportive arm around her waist to allow her to take the weight off of her foot, concern clear in her mild hawk's eyes.
"What was that?" she queried, with a disgusted nod towards the now-covered painting.
"Eh, it's not so bad," Tonks protested, relaxing a bit against the other woman's side. "It'll be fine in two days. And that was my lovely first cousin once removed, such a sweet soul she was."
"Well, you'll be staying here tonight, where we can keep an eye on you," Molly said firmly, reaching to touch her other arm. "I'm so sorry, dear, you know my temper, and then you are forever setting her off..." she half apologized, with a disapproving look up at the covered portrait.
" 'Sno big thing, we're all stressed. And thanks, but I'll not be staying here tonight, thank you very much – I haven't been in my own bed in a week." Tonks said just as firmly, straightening her good leg and balancing upright against Hooch's arm to show her determination.
Molly temporized, pulling herself up and tightening her chin to say, "You very well will stay here, my girl, you never look after..."
"She won't stay here, and she won't stay alone," Hooch interrupted, looking back and forth between the two women. "I'll stay at home with her. We're friends, and I'm Mediwitch qualified, and she has nothing like that at home to plague her, "with a nod to the covered portrait, "so it will be fine."
"There, it's settled, and now we've a meeting to get to, Molly, and I need to sit, so if you'll excuse us?" Tonks said, taking her cane from Moody and stepping away from Hooch.
Molly snorted and stepped through the door, "Well, come and eat properly then. And it's all ready, so we don't need help!"
Tonks bumped lightly against Hooch as the redhead turned her back, crossing her eyes slightly with a silent sigh when the other woman looked at her. Hooch chuckled softly and Moody snorted, looking back and forth from the two of them. "Good woman, but very motherly. Not what you need or want, eh, Tonks?" He smirked at the two of them, widening his whirling eye meaningfully.
She stared at him in puzzlement as she leaned on Hooch, responding, "No, I don't need another mum, if that's what you mean. And she's a lovely woman, just very... sensitive. To noise and such, I mean."
Tonks always tried to be tactful, but she found Molly's attempts to manage her increasingly irritating and offensive. She was also fairly convinced that Molly's conviction that Harry, Hermione, and the Weasley children must be kept ignorant of the Order business and related trials had helped to lead to the Ministry incident, though in a very small way. After all, the woman couldn't have had any real effect on Dumbledore's opinion on the matter, but she could reinforce it, and possibly increase the younger wizards' and witches' resentment of the situation.
She felt Hooch sigh a little above her, fluffing her spiky hair, as she said, "And I don't want to play Mum, so let's be on, shall we?" Tonks agreed and they moved towards the kitchen, clutching her friend's steady arm.
"I always seem to be injured when I run into you outside of Hogwarts," Tonks murmured to Hooch as they found seats together on a flat bench crammed at the end of the tables pushed together. She looked around a little sadly – though nearly every seat was filled with a member of the Order, although they certainly weren't all present, but no matter how crowded the room, it would always seem empty without Sirius.
"And I always seem to be taking care of you – although I certainly don't object," Hooch said back to her softly. "Speaking of, you should eat something – that fish stew smells good."
Tonks grimaced, saying "You think anything with fish in smells good; I swear you're half pelican." She loathed fish stew, although she was fond enough of fresh fish. She'd had an unfortunate experience with a hex involving fish eyeballs and stew as a student.
Hooch snorted, responding with "You're not far wrong, actually – my gente tends to osprey rather than hawks or vultures."
"I can see that," Tonks replied, reaching up to brush lightly at spiky silver hair framing clear golden eyes. Hyter Sprites could sometimes become vultures, or buzzards, or hawks, or even clouds of tiny bees. They'd never discussed this – Tonks looked curiously at her friend, wondering, her hand coming to rest on the other woman's upper arm. "So, can..."
A loud harrumph interrupted, and she turned to see Molly looking at her severely. She glanced around quickly to find that the doors were closed and Dumbledore was seating himself at the other end of the table. Moody was smirking irritatingly down the table at her, and Lupin was smiling tolerantly, as the others sat quietly, except for Mundungus's ever-present cough. Tonks flushed, feeling unreasonably defensive, as she scowled back. She pulled her hand down to her lap and adjusted her bad hip, which she now realized had been throbbing painfully ever since they'd sat down on the hard bench. She'd been too distracted to notice.
Dumbledore smiled down the table, tired eyes twinkling at them, as he suggested that they eat first. They ate quickly as they talked, with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Tonks picked at her stew, but stole most of Hooch's biscuit, pushing over her half-full supper bowl in apology when the other woman hissed lightly at her.
"We have received word from a most excellent source that Voldemort has an interest in a certain object in East Anglia. Queen Elen of Colchester, whom you may recall from History of Magic, was either an elf, a spectacularly powerful witch, or something other than mortal, who had great talent with the manipulation of souls. She left behind a fetish, a bit of horn and silver fashioned into a talisman, that may or may not allow the wielder to separate the soul from the body – either to send it on a journey, or to destroy it." He paused grimly, allowing the shocked reactions to pass. Any kind of magic affecting the soul was considered the Darkest of the Dark, even the type of shamanic soul journeying that had been permissible in Elen's time. Even Avada Kavada only killed its victims, and it had actually been developed as a kinder form of euthanasia – the original intent had been medical, not evil at all.
"And how, pray tell, do we know that this object exists and is effective?" drawled Hestia, looking doubtful. Tonks smirked a little – Hestia was a very good Auror, but she had always been very skeptical of anything developed previous to the last hundred years, especially if it was old enough to be folklore. She reminded Tonks of her favorite Muggle uncle, a psychologist who believed that anything older than ten years was hopelessly outdated.
"This object is known to the Headmasters of Hogwarts, though it far predates our office. I am sorry to say that it is quite real, and potentially quite dangerous. What was acceptable when Queen Elen was a shaman is considerably more sinister in our age." Dumbledore sighed, looking tired. "However, we have our most excellent Madame Hooch from Hogwarts here to help us with the this situation. Madame?"
"Quite clearly, it is in our best interest to prevent Voldemort from acquiring this... fetish. It is currently being kept Underhill by a small group of Seleighe Shee in the fens of northern Cambridgeshire. They're Seleighe, but they won't just pass it on to us, and they may offer it to Voldemort, if he doesn't take it first." Hooch paused to drink her wine, looking up as Severus Snape spoke.
"Shee? In England, long enough to have this? And how do you know this? And why would they have such an artifact? If they're Seleighe, or "good" elves, why can't we just leave it with them?" he asked, not quite sneering. Kingsley nodded, looking curious – Shee were generally considered Irish fay, and not English.
"There are Shee enclaves all over Europe – they simply don't always use that name, or make themselves known. Seleighe just means that they won't cheat or attack other Shee, or go out of their way to harass humans or other non-Shee, not that they will necessarily get along with them. They might easily decide to give it Voldemort to avoid trouble – this lot tends to want to stay isolated. They have it because Queen Elen gave it them." Hooch responded patiently. "I know all of this because I grew up spending half my summers Underhill with my grandmother – she's a Hyter Sprite, and she married a man of the Shee, from another enclave."
"Lucky Umbridge didn't know that, aren't ye?" commented Rubeus Hagrid, looking fascinated. "Can ye turn into a bee, or a buzzard? And"
"Now isn't the time for this, Hagrid," Snape interrupted, looking irritated. "Hooch, what do we need to do to get the thing before Voldemort, or get them to protect it from him, as that's clearly where this is going?"
Hooch chuckled, saying, "This really isn't the time, but I can't turn into a bee, Hagrid. And you won't be doing anything, Severus. I and one other will go get it from them, as emissaries from Dumbledore."
"And I can't be this other?" Severus asked, scowling.
"Stop being contrary, Snape! You just want to go because she said you won't!" Moody interrupted, glaring at the younger man.
"Tonks will be accompanying Madam Hooch, if she agrees and is well enough recovered?" Dumbledore interrupted, looking down the table inquiringly at the young Auror.
"I'll be up for it in three days – is that soon enough? And of course I'll go," Tonks responded, startled but pleased. She would very much like to work with her friend, and she was very interested to see the other half of Hooch's life. Her hip and leg ached fiercely, but she knew from sad experience that they would recover quickly as soon as she took the potions that they'd given her at St. Mungo's – she hadn't taken anything at all yet to avoid falling asleep during the meeting.
"Settled, then. She'll need off for a month, Kingsley, can you do it? It'll probably be less than that, but just in case," Hooch inquired, looking at Tonks's senior.
"She'll be off recovering from her injury. It will become apparent in the morning that it was more severe than first suspected," Kingsley agreed.