AN: Thoughts are still flowing thankfully.

Disclaimer: It's up there.

Tonks stretched her arms, yawning. It had been a long three days interviewing Whately's family and friends. Not that he'd had many friends, mainly just work colleagues, which was leaving them without many leads. There was no way his parents could have done it, given their health, so it was looking to be almost certainly a hit.

What they did no was that someone had somehow dropped through the ministry wards, apparating straight into Whately's office, killed him and shredded practically every sheet of paper in the room, then apparated out again. It was a nightmare. Alastor thought it was probably an attempt to cover up something to do with a squib. The catch with that was they now had to track down every squib out there to check on them and the only one who'd had the papers on any of them was Whately. It was a nightmare.

Moody looked over a her, frowning. "You've been at it pretty hard Nymphadora. Call it a day."

Tonks felt like objecting, both to the use of her first name and her dismissal, but quickly pulled her head in. She shouldn't really complain. She was working on her first case and doing more than most of the other trainees on duty.

"Yes Moody," she said, scooping some files up and putting them into the messy 'to do' pile on one side of the desk. A thought crossed her mind. "Hey Moody?"

"Yes?" he asked, looking at her with his magical eye while pouring over yet another file. Apparently he wasn't willing to clock in just yet.

"I was thinking," she began nervously. "You know how the papers were cursed to be unrepairable?"

Moody grunted, still focused on his work. "Yes. So?"

"Do you think it was to cover up that something was missing or to cover up that something was never there in the first place?"

"You're suggesting someone did it to pretend to be a squib." Moody's tone was flat and unreadable, making Tonks feel very nervous.

"Well, yes." Her voice sounded doubtful, even to her.

Moody stopped what he was doing and looked up, properly this time. "I won't say it's impossible, but why would anyone want to pretend to be a squib? They have practically no power and most of them are disinherited. How would it benefit anyone?"

"Well if they wanted to disappear-"

"Then why would they put so much effort into such a difficult hit?" Moody sighed, running his hand over his face. "It's an interesting thoery, so we won't discount it, but I don't think it's likely. What's more likely someone wanted to blackmail a family using information on their squib relations. You know how much most families would fear that being exposed, especially some of the dark ones who've knock theirs off."

Tonks nodded, disappointed. "Yes boss." She'd thought her theory was a good one. She supposed she could keep looking into it, but knew Moody wouldn't be likely to believe her and though she wanted to prove herself, didn't want to become a laughing stock. Then again, if she kept it on the back burner and kept up with the rest of her work... Tonks resolved to look into the matter herself.

HPHPHP

Gornuk blinked up at the wooden ceiling. It didn't look familiar, so Leonard must have moved them. That was good. He frankly didn't want to have Death Eaters busting down the door any time soon. That would be unpleasant, especially since he'd only just woken up and found his arms and legs had been hoisted up into odd positions. They felt fine now, but that probably meant he'd had a lot of broken bones from the trip back.

He wondered who made it. Leonard obviously, since they'd made a move and possibly the waitress and those two children, but their mother and grandfather were almost certainly gone. How had Leonard dealt with them? Had he simply dropped them off in a town somewhere, or had he thought to wipe their minds? Gornuk wasn't certain that was necessary, but felt it would probably be better if he had, just in case they'd seen something.

A sound came from the other end of the room and he looked up to see the waitress from the cafe entering the room. She looked exhausted, her dark hair pulled back in a tight bun at the base of her neck and a serious expression fixed on her face. "So, you are awake?"

Gornuk wasn't certain what to say, but he nodded. What was she doing here? Why hadn't Leonard simply left her behind? Maybe he had and the Death Eaters had come for her. That would make sense. "Hello."

She walked over and made a few minor gestures with her wand. Finally unslung, Gornuk was able to sit up properly and take a good look around. It seemed to be a country cottage of some sort. "Where are we?" he asked curiously.

"My home," replied the girl. "Mr Lockhart recommended we find somewhere secluded when the Death Eaters started chasing us. I had a stalker a while back, so I had the place heavily warded. Not even my family know where it is any-more."

This last comment held a hint of sadness, but he ignored it. There were bigger things to worry about. "Who else is here?"

"It's just us three," said the girl, a painful expression marring her pretty face. "I felt their hands go limp. They slipped from my fingers and I didn't didn't even bother to look back." Gornuk wasn't certain there was anything he could say to a human about that, so he thought it was better to say nothing at all. After a moment she glanced back down at him. "Hungry?"

"Very. How long was I out?"

"Well over a week," said the girl, standing up. "I'll leave you to get dressed. Lunch should be on the table in half an hour." She turned to leave and Gornuk realised something.

"Wait," he called as she reached thee door. "What's your name?"

She smiled weakly. "Does it matter any more? My life's gone to hell and I won't even be able to keep it if I don't want to endanger my family. Plus I don't really trust you."

The goblin frowned. She had a point and he had to respect her priorities. "Then what should I call you?" he asked.

She shrugged carelessly. "Call me Angelique. Everyone does."

"It's not your real name, is it?"

She gave him a rather contemptuous look. "Of course not. Stalker, remember?"

Gornuk smiled. "Of course. Nice to meet you Angelique."

"Nice to meet you too," she replied, sighing. Angeligue stood there, considering him for a moment. "You are a very strange goblin."

"Oh?" said Gornuk, an eyebrow raised. "And how many goblins do you actually know?"

She smirked at him without amusement. "Well I was married to one and I never really got on with my in-laws. Does that count?"

Gornuk blinked, surprised. He'd never heard of this scandal, which must mean that the family had covered it up. Which- ah... "Let me guess," he said carefully. "It was stalkers, not stalker." Her face flickered with fear for a moment and he knew he was correct. "I'm sorry. My kind doesn't usually much care for humans."

"Don't I know it." She stood, looking at him for carefully a moment. "Anyway, like I said, you are a very strange goblin. Relatively polite, non-judgemental, no air of superiority. Everything Lockhart made you out to be. He's the only reason you're still here, you know."

Gornuk nodded, making a mental note to thank his friend later. "I suppose I am a strange goblin," he said finally, smiling a little at the girl. "Thank-you. I know it must have been hard to allow me into your home."

Angelique smiled a little. "Well, you're not the first goblin to sleep in my bed. Get dressed."

Gornuk snorted in humour as she left the room. He thought he could grow to like Angelique.

HPHPHP

Dumbledore and Charles Weasley looked disappointed as the session came to an end. Harry felt much the same. After the initial discovery and destruction of so many horcruxes it was a little disheartening for things to go so poorly. The headmaster thought that the school's magic might well be causing interference and so it had been decided that the next session would be held outside the school grounds, at a specially prepared ritual sight.

Harry wasn't looking forward to it, though it would be a while before they would try it. He was feeling absolutely exhausted and had to keep an eye on where he was going to avoid becoming lost. His legs felt heavy, his arms felt heavy, just about everything felt heavy. He must be on the third floor, right? Harry honestly wasn't sure.

"Hey watch it boy!" Harry came to his senses as he heard the shout. It was the new caretaker, hurrying over to him, mop in hand, a concerned look on his face. "Didn't you see the signs?"

He hadn't honestly, but now he could see what appeared to be some variation on a wet floor sign. Except... was the little man's feet being dissolved as he fell? They were. "Sorry," he said, feeling a little sick as he watched the little character writhing around on the floor.

"You alright?" said the man, looking concerned. Harry could see he was wearing thick dragon-skin boots. "Didn't step in it, did you?"

Harry shook his head. "Why do you use that stuff?" he asked, a hint of horror in his voice.

The pudgy man looked a little guilty. "Easiest way to get things done and I didn't think anyone would be up at this hour. Mind not telling anyone for me?"

Harry nodded. "Sure. I'll just be going." As he continued making his way back to Gryffindor Tower, his mind travelled to the ritual. He'd be doing it after his exams, which was a relief. He didn't know how he'd cope having to do it during exams, especially with Hermione constantly breathing down his neck.

Stepping through the portrait, he smiled at his friends who'd apparently waited up for him. Somehow they'd even managed to wrangle up some food. Though it wasn't a big deal, he was grateful. They didn't have to take care of him, but here they were. He sat down in an empty chair and relaxed. Life was good, even with crazy rituals and madmen out for his head. All he'd have to do is make certain none of the food had been touched by Fred or George and he'd be fine.