Verdict
Wednesday found Tonks drowsy and drinking coffee like it was her only life-force after a long, sleepless night. However, her fatigue disappeared instantly when she heard the name of the first witness for the defense.
Severus Snape.
Snape, the double agent. Snape, the former Death Eater. Snape, the Order member. Snape, the man who was supposed to be on their side.
But then again, so was Dumbledore.
Shaking her head, she settled in to watch and listen, expecting they'd brought him in as a character witness. It was soon clear she was right, and she grudgingly admitted it was a smart move. Snape, as his teacher and Head of House, was most likely the adult with whom Malfoy had spent the most time over the last six years, even more so than his parents. His answers weren't any surprise.
"Mr. Malfoy has been a model student, rarely in trouble and if so, nearly always at the fault of another. He was appointed a prefect last year, and I have no complaint with his service as such. He scored well on his O.W.L.s and was taking many N.E.W.T. classes. He occasionally spoke of a career with the Ministry."
Tonks had to stifle a snort at that. Malfoy's idea of a Ministry career probably mirrored that of his father's—pouring gold into all the right pockets.
"He's popular amongst his housemates and played Quidditch for four years in the position of Seeker, quitting this year to focus on his studies."
To focus on serving as a Death Eater, Tonks amended.
Snape went on for a bit, answering the questions that Wilkes served up on a silver platter, and the deep drone of his voice began to lull Tonks into a stupor, just as it had years ago during those hated Potions lessons. She only hoped it was doing the same to the Wizengamot.
When Wilkes and Finneus switched places, Tonks jerked awake, throwing back the now-cold dregs of her coffee. The moment Finneus picked up sheaths of parchment from their table, she breatheda sigh of relief. So they had been successful in obtaining Malfoy's school records. Excellent. Hewasted no time in bringing up repeated incidents of Malfoy in detention, painting a picture of him as the bully he was.
"The fifth of February, 1994. Mr. Malfoy received detention at a Quidditch match. Why was that, Professor Snape?"
Snape glowered. "He and his companions played a harmless prank."
"It says here they dressed up as dementors in an attempt to intimidate a player on the Gryffindor team. Given the strong feelings many people have about dementors, it hardly seems harmless to me. Why do you say so?"
"No student received harm from the prank. Thus, harmless."
And so on. Finneus focused in particular on the time Malfoy spent as a member of something called the 'Inquisitorial Squad', which apparently had been formed during Umbridge's tenure for the express purpose of snitching when a student broke one of her many Educational Decrees. Finneus did his best to evoke an image of a group of petty students running roughshod over those they didn't like; Tonks was unsure of his success in that venture, but given Umbridge's widespread unpopularity, she hoped it would at least serve as another black mark against Malfoy.
Finneus finished with, "As you can see, Mr. Malfoy hardly has a spotless record during his years at Hogwarts, yet you, Professor Snape, called him a model student. Can you explain how a model student would have a steady record of detentions?"
"If you had worked with children for sixteen years as I have, you would know that not even the most perfect of students behaves appropriately at all times. I've never known Draco to engage in anything besides normal teenage mischief."
"Normal teenage mischief," Finneus repeated. "Very well. Thank you, Professor Snape. You may step down."
Scrimgeour called for an early lunch, and Snape swept out of the courtroom ahead of the crowd. With some judicious jostling, Tonks was on his billowing coattails, accosting him in the corridor.
"What the hell are you doing, Severus?" she demanded quietly.
"I'm attempting to leave, Nymphadora."
She rolled her eyes. "No, you berk. Why would you testify for him?"
"Because I do not believe he deserves a cell in Azkaban," Snape replied as if it were obvious.
"He has—" She moderated her voice, glancing at the crowd heading for the lifts around them. "He has admitted, under Veritaserum, to having the Dark Mark. It's not exactly something one gets for a lark. You should know that."
He briefly rubbed his left arm, and she wondered if he was conscious of the gesture. "And you should know that the Dark Mark is not always indicative of the bearer," he said with a sneer. She lifted her head to stare at him, lips barely moving when she spoke. "Are you saying he's a spy?"
"I'm saying you don't know as much as you think you do. I had hoped that would be a habit you grew out of when you left Hogwarts. I must go. Good day, Nymphadora."
"Good day, Snivellus," she mocked childishly under her breath as he strode away from her. The git.
What the hell was that about? How was she supposed to do her job in these circumstances? If only Snape and Dumbledore weren't so damned secretive Doubt rose inside Tonks, but she squashed it.
Malfoy's Veritaserum interrogation had been very informative; he was a Dark Mark-branded Death Eater. No question about that, and tomorrow the Wizengamot would hear it from his own lips. It made her head ache. Glancing at her wristwatch, she decided to snag lunch from a vending machine two floors up, digging her in her pocket to make sure she had enough Sickles. She wanted a good seat for Narcissa's testimony. However, when she returned to the dungeon, she found someone already saving a seat for her.
"Mum?" she questioned as the accepted the empty chair, noting her mother still wore her Healer robes. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see Narcissa's testimony, so I switched shifts with Holly Watson."
Andromeda was pale, even for a Black. "Are you alright, Mum?"
"I'm fine."
Tonks didn't believe her for a second, but as she was well-versed in delivering that same untruth lately, she let it pass. "Crisp?"
"It was just lunch. How can you possibly be snacking already?"
"It is my lunch."
"Nymphadora, I swear—have I taught you nothing about nutrition?"
"You've taught me plenty," Tonks informed her cheerfully. "I just choose to ignore it."
"Cheeky child," Andromeda accused her, not quite hiding a fond smile. "I never thought I'd say this, but it's nice to hear."
"Hmm?"
"You being cheeky. You've been so uncharacteristically gloomy and withdrawn lately, I rather think you're depressed."
Tonks chewed slowly, trying to think of what to say. Having one's therapist say as much was one thing; having one's mother agree was another. "I'm just confused, Mum."
"About what?"
"Everything." She paused. "Everyone. Myself."
Andromeda ran a hand over her daughter's hair. "Is it Cooper, or did something happen with Harry, or "
"Yes," Tonks said, hoping the one word would suffice. Cooper and Harry and work and Malfoy Somehow she'd become unable to separate any of it in her mind.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not right now. Have a crisp, Mum."
"Well, alright. One won't hurt."
Tonks grinned even as she knew her mother was humoring her, but five minutes later she wasn't sure whether to be amused or annoyed when Andromeda finished them off.
Narcissa Malfoy—blonde and beautiful, cold and poised—took the witness stand as the room fell to silence.
It took very little prompting for Narcissa to deliver what was no doubted a carefully prepared testimony. Her tales of Malfoy began from his birth, describing a child who was sweet and bright though admittedly spoiled. Points for honesty there.
"I expect he was often lonely, with no siblings or cousins around," she said.
Although everyone was quiet, Tonks was sure she was the only one to hear Andromeda's murmured reply.
"And whose fault was that, Cissy?"
The talk turned to Lucius; Malfoy idolized him ("as all boys look up to their fathers") and was heartbroken when his renewed service to Voldemort was revealed and he went to Azkaban. Malfoy flushed at this.
"He's just a boy," Narcissa said in a soft yet penetrating voice. The entire courtroom was mesmerized. "We all think we're grown-up at sixteen, but any adult in here knows that's not true. He's a scared boy who watched the man he looked up to get taken away and had his own life and those of his loved ones threatened. He's nearly of age, but he's still only a child." A single tear slipped down her cheek, and she did not raise a hand to stop its progress.
At least one witch of the Wizengamot raised a handkerchief to her eyes, and everyone was subdued. Even Tonks was touched at her testimony, for it was what was left unsaid that was most powerful. Was he trying to redeem his father, make him proud, save his life Narcissa offered no excuses nor explanations, simply showed them Malfoy through her eyes, the eyes of a mother: a young boy trying to be a man who had gotten in far over his head.
It was, in fact, very close to the same thing Tonks herself had said to Malfoy months ago. Finneus would have to be careful. Anything close to what could be interpreted as bullying the mother, and he would lose favor faster than the Cannons lost a match.
Amazingly, he asked but one question: "Where were you?"
"I'm sorry?" Narcissa queried, furrowing her elegant brow.
"You said Draco was threatened, that he's only a boy. Where were you when your child was being threatened, was making decisions about following in the footsteps of his father, when he was frightened? I'm simply curious about the extent of your role, Mrs. Malfoy. Where were you?"
Tonks inhaled sharply. A risky move.
Narcissa opened her mouth once before taking a measured breath and collecting herself. "I have always supported my son, and I always will," she said in a dignified tone.
"Very well. Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy."
Tonks let the courtroom empty around her, deep in thought as she tried to evaluate Narcissa's testimony. She was no witness expert, however, and as much as she tried, she really had no idea which way the Wizengamot was leaning. All depended on Malfoy's testimony, the only one in which they could legally compel him to take Veritaserum, thanks in part to Harry.
"Nymphadora? Are you coming?" Andromeda peered at her with concern.
"What? Yeah."
Together they left the courtroom in silence, riding an empty lift to the first floor. On their way out, Tonks turned to her mother.
"I—"
A hand closed around her wrist and spun her around to face the frosty blue eyes of Narcissa Malfoy.
"You did this," the elder witch said through thinned lips.
"Let me go."
Her long, thin fingers tightened their grasp. "You are responsible. Do you understand what you're doing?"
"Don't touch—"
"He is a boy, he is your cousin, and you are going to send him to Azkaban."
"Let go of—"
"You did this," she repeated in a snarl.
"Cissy, if you don't unhand my daughter, I swear by Merlin I'll use every curse Bella ever taught us."
Only then did the hand on Tonks' wrist drop away. Both Tonks and Narcissa gazed at Andromeda, the former with astonished eyes, the latter with angry.
"Have you any idea what your daughter has done?" Narcissa hissed.
"My daughter?" Andromeda repeated, stepping closer. They were exactly the same height, Tonks noticed, nearly nose to nose. "My daughter is doing her job. My daughter is protecting those she loves."
"And my son has done the same."
"There is an enormous difference between an Auror and a Death Eater, Cissy." Andromeda raised her chin, looking down her nose at her younger sister. "As big as the difference between you and I."
Narcissa narrowed her eyes. "If he—if he goes—if he's sent away, I want you to know who I'll hold responsible. When you lay in bed at night, Nymphadora, I want you to think about the sixteen-yearold boy sleeping in a cold, dark, wet cell because you put him there."
"You should have thought of that before you let him play with the big boys," Tonks retorted sharply. "Now stay away from me, and stay away from my mother. Oh, and tell your other sister the same, would you?"
Holding her mother's arm, she pulled her away, aware of Narcissa's eyes on them all the way to the fireplaces. Only when they emerged into London did she stop, snapping her fingers in front of Andromeda's eyes.
"Oi, Mum!"
Andromeda jumped, blinking. "Yes?"
"Are you alright?"
"Quite, I'm sure. It's only strange to see her after so long." She gazed into the past. "I find it hard to reconcile the angry, bitter woman with my baby sister. She was so very affectionate as a girl."
She continued to stare blankly, her forlorn expression causing Tonks much more hurt than anything her aunt said.
"Well, that girl is long gone. Come on, Mum, let's go home. I'll cook for you tonight."
As planned, that snapped her out of it. "You'll do no such thing. I intend to live long enough to have grandchildren." Tonks laughed. "But you will eat with us, won't you, baby?"
"Of course, Mum."
Harry's nightly recap would have to wait. Someone else needed her now.
Thursday was the day. The day the trial would be decided, even if the Wizengamot didn't hand in a verdict until Friday.
Malfoy looked very small in the middle of the room, all alone. His normally impeccable hair was slightly awry, small blond strands setting themselves apart from their brothers.
Alex gave him the Veritaserum with no fanfare, simply giving his word that it was the truth serum and nothing else. Malfoy drank the clear liquid with a shudder, yet Tonks knew from experience it had no taste.
Finneus began abruptly. "Do you bear the Dark Mark, Mr. Malfoy?"
His voice was dull, almost as if he'd already given up, and he stared at the floor in front of him sullenly. "Yes."
"Please show me."
Methodically Malfoy pushed up the left sleeve of his robe, unbuttoning the sleeve of his shirt and rolling it to his elbow. The vivid red tattoo seemed to pulse amidst the pale flesh. The audience broke out in murmurs, which annoyed Tonks. Did they think the DMLE would have gone this far without proof? Not to mention the pictures she'd taken.
"When did you receive this mark?"
"Last summer."
"Were you forced into it?" Malfoy paused; Tonks expected he was trying to find a way to answer it against the limitations of Veritaserum. Thankfully, Finneus, too, sensed this and elaborated his question. "Were you forcibly held down and given the Dark Mark against your will?"
"No," Malfoy replied through gritted teeth.
"Okay. What were you doing at Hogwarts while serving You-Know-Who, the one you call the Dark Lord? What was the purpose of fixing the vanishing cabinet?"
"To allow access into Hogwarts."
"Access for whom?"
"Anyone."
"Anyone including your Dark Lord?" pressed Finneus.
Malfoy shrugged. "If he wants."
"What does he want in Hogwarts?"
Again Malfoy could be seen struggling against the truth serum. "A person," he finally admitted.
"Who?"
Tonks leaned forward. They'd been unsuccessful in getting this answer out of him earlier, but she hoped the pressure of the trial and the courtroom would make him crack.
"I don't know the Dark Lord's wants," he said stiffly, and Tonks cringed. No doubt the sentence itself was true so long as Malfoy meant it in a broad sense.
"But you do know that he wants to get inside Hogwarts?"
"Yes."
"And it's your job to facilitate that access?"
"Yes."
And Tonks nearly jumped out of her seat. The merest, briefest of tics had jumped on Draco's face the moment he answered. There was something there, something more, something important. Finneus didn't appear to have caught it, and judging by his expression, Alex hadn't either. She willed them to pick on up on the clue, all but waving her arms at them, but the moment passed. Damn it. She rubbed her eyes. Was she so desirous of his guilt that she was starting to see things?
His testimony continued, but for Tonks, who had listened to his original interrogation, it was uneventful. It was established that he was a true Death Eater and he was helping Voldemort to endanger Hogwarts students. That should be enough for the most obdurate witch or wizard on the Wizengamot. Finneus stayed away from Katie Bell. Although Tonks was convinced of Malfoy's involvement, he had answered with an unequivocal no when asked if he imperiused her. To everyone's surprise, Wilkes didn't cross-examine his own defendant. Tonks supposed he thought Narcissa made a more effective witness as to Malfoy's lack of a choice in the matter than a sulky teenager.
"Very well. I believe that is all the witnesses?" Scrimgeour asked, looking at each solicitor in turn, both of whom nodded. "Good. We'll adjourn for the day. Closing arguments in the morning—and I expect them to be brief, gentlemen—and then the Wizengamot will have the case. Let's wrap this up before the weekend."
As he was escorted away, Malfoy looked right at Tonks, holding her gaze until he was out of sight. Whether it was meant to be intimidation or a plea, she didn't know, but it left her thoroughly unsettled. The entire case was affecting her far more than she liked.
The trial, or rather the impending verdict, was going to keep her up all night. She hoped her preoccupation wouldn't affect that evening's session with Beaky too much. Not that she cared, but she had only just progressed from 'hostile' to 'distrusting'. At this rate Harry would be an Auror before she was allowed back to field work.
The April night air was not as cold as some nights Harry had spent on the Astronomy Tower, but it still held a chill. He gazed over the clear night, moonlight dancing on the gently rippling water of the lake, an eerily graceful Thestral taking flight over the forest where a flock of birds suddenly burst from the trees, startled by some unknown source.
"Do you think Grawp is still there?" asked Hermione, breaking the heavy silence.
Harry shrugged. "I suppose."
"Yeah, he is," Ron confirmed. "Hagrid brought him along in our last Magical Creatures class to act as an 'assistant'. Grawp stepped on a Brazilian fire slug halfway through and burned up half of Hagrid's garden before we could put it out."
Harry chuckled. Good old Hagrid. Regret seeped into his amusement; with all that had been going on, he hadn't found much time to see Hagrid this year, and he missed his half-giant friend with the love for any and all creatures, including those that wanted nothing more than to rip him to shreds. The silence returned, as pressing as the darkness. Hermione sat against the wall, her knees to her chest, while Ron walked around and around. Harry leaned over the battlements. Too many memories on these towers. A man flying away on a hippogriff the sight of a teacher taking four stunning spells at once a woman stepping backward off the edge
"She is coming, right?" Ron asked.
"Of course," Hermione replied before Harry could. "You read her note. She promised to come regardless of the verdict."
Tonks had sent a note summarizing the events after each day of the trial, all delivered via Hedwig and charmed with a code word. Thursday's note promised to meet them on top of the Astronomy Tower if she wasn't back by dinner. So far they had been waiting for almost two hours. Much longer and they would have to depart before an Astronomy class arrived.
Hermione was now practicing transfiguration, conjuring and vanishing various objects without any uttered word. For a few minutes, Harry amused himself by vanishing her creations before she could, hiding his wand under his robes. When she caught on to him, Ron picked up. Harry was still grinning when the door opened.
"I'm sorry, I'm late," Tonks burst out. "I thought I'd never leave that dungeon."
She paced back and forth, rambling about the Wizengamot and solicitors and Ron's brother Percy and robes and something about pizza until Harry finally stepped in her way. "Are you okay?"
Her eyes, brown today, were wide and slightly wild. "I'm great. I've had a lot of coffee today. A lot. And I haven't eaten since lunch, so I think I'm a little jittery."
She fumbled in a pocket before bringing out a cigarette, trying to light it with her wand. When Harry noticed her hands were shaking, he took pity on her and brought a carefully controlled flame to the tip of his wand, holding it out to her.
"Thanks, Harry," she said gratefully, taking a long drag. "Er, what?" For both Ron and Hermione were unabashedly staring. "Oh. Sorry. I'll put it out if it bothers you. Unless you want one?"
"No."
"Well, I—no." Ron rubbed his side where Hermione elbowed him.
Tonks laughed. "Good, as death by Molly Weasley is not in my life plan. Although how Charlie has managed to slip that under her hawk-eyed gaze, I'll never know."
"Well?" Ron urged.
"The verdict, Tonks," prompted Hermione with more than a trace of impatience.
"Yeah, that." She took a deep breath and an even deeper smoke. "He's guilty. Ten years in Azkaban."
Ron whooped and pumped his fist in the air. Hermione gasped, leaning against the wall with her hand over her mouth and her eyes round. Harry staggered, one hand on a parapet. It had taken so long, so many months of waiting, from the first suspicion in Diagon Alley in August to now, and not at any point had he ever let himself truly believe Malfoy would be sent away. First they hit wall after wall, and even when the trial was upon them, he knew Malfoy would prove slippery once again.
And Azkaban Now Harry rested his head in his hands. It was not guilt that weighed him down, for he knew Malfoy would have let everyone in the castle be killed if he had been able to follow through with his plan, but with the sheer enormity of the idea that he himself, Harry James Potter, had started something all on his own that had led to someone (someone his own age, at that) spending a decade in what was still the worst prison in Britain, dementors or not. He pulled himself back to the present to find himself smiling. Whatever else, he had stopped a Death Eater plot, and no one had been killed. Even Katie had recovered. Ron was pelting Tonks with questions about every last detail, but Hermione took his arm.
"Ron, these can wait. I think Tonks is tired. I'm sure there will be a write-up in the Daily Prophet tomorrow anyway."
"I'm sure," Tonks echoed with a half-smile for Hermione.
They said their goodbyes and made to leave. Tonks propped herself up in a crenel to finish her cigarette. Halfway through shutting the door, Harry paused.
"I'll catch up. I forgot something."
Ron eyed him doubtfully. "You sure, mate?"
"Yeah."
"We'll wait at the bottom of the stairs," said Hermione, either unable or not bothering to hide her misgivings.
"Dora? Er, Tonks?"
In her moonlight-silhouetted profile, he saw her chin rise, but her head didn't turn. "Which is it, Harry?"
"I haven't decided," he said honestly.
"Mmm-hmm. What's up?"
He approached slowly, telling himself exactly how this was going to go. She stood to face him when he reached her, sliding off the battlement and stubbing her cigarette out against the weather-worn stone.
"Still not a smoker?"
"Nope."
"How many days has it been?"
"Too many," she admitted with a hint of her former mischievous glint in her eyes. "Does it bother you?"
"I wouldn't want to—" He stopped, fully aware of what nearly slipped out of his mouth. Kisssomeone who had been smoking. "—tell you what to do with your body," he finished lamely. It wasn't what he meant to say, and both knew it. "Besides, you look like you've had a hard week."
"I have."
"Yeah, well, I just wanted to say"
And then he hugged her, and forgetting all his warnings to himself, he smelled the citrus scent of her hair and felt the contours of her body against his and breathed in the very essence that was Tonks. Despite everything, she leaned into him, both tightening their grips, and when he closed his eyes, the break-up hadn't happened.
Except it had. They withdrew, and he saw the question on her lips.
"We're still friends," he reminded her. "I want to say thank you. You were the first person to listen to me. We did this, you and I. We were a good team."
She coughed, looking away. "Yeah, I know we were. And I know we're still friends," she said slowly. "It's just I'm trying to figure out how that works."
"When you decide, let me know, okay?" They shared a smile, and then Harry realized that friends probably ought not still hold each other. He dropped his hands, clearing his throat, and she stepped back. "So as your friend, I think it's okay for me to ask if you need to talk, because you don't look nearly as happy as I thought you would be. I'm sorry the trial was hard on you."
"I am happy about this, I am. I'm glad he's going to Azkaban. But Harry, I can't shake the feeling that this isn't over."
"It is. He'll be in Azkaban soon. It has to be over."
"If you say so, Oh Wise One," she quipped with one of those half-smiles she seemed to prefer lately. Harry jerked his head, not wanting this to night to end just yet. "Do you want to walk back with us?"
"No, I think I'll stay for a bit. The air is clearing my head."
"Okay. Good night, er, Tonks."
"Good night, Harry."
He headed for the door, wondering if Ron and Hermione were eavesdropping from the other side, but before he could think about it, he spun around and grabbed Tonks' hand. "Dora? I miss you."
She glanced at their joined hands, not dropping it as he expected but instead squeezing in return. "I miss you, too, Harry."
