Chapter Nine: Bloodlines

"Harry? Tonks is here," Ron said as he entered Harry's den early one December afternoon.

"Good..." Harry glanced over his shoulder. "I need a minute, Ron."

"She's with Ginny and Mione in the kitchen. What's wrong?" Ron asked, seeing the pensive look on Harry's face.

"Don't you find it strange, Ron, that the ferret hasn't contacted us to gloat?" Harry asked after a moment. He was standing near the windows, looking out at the light snow that was falling. "I mean, Malfoy always has to gloat. There have been nearly thirty halfbloods and muggle-borns killed or injured in the past three months... and not a word."

"I don't know, Harry. He obviously knows that you know he's happy about the... outcomes. Maybe that's enough for him. Maybe that's why we haven't heard anything from him."

Harry shook his head, turning away from the window and looking at Ron. His green eyes were shadowed with doubt. "Something feels funny... like he's... something's not right."

"Your scar?" Ron enquired, watching him closely.

"No... nothing like that," Harry said. "Just... an odd feeling."

"Odd, how?"

"I'm not really sure," Harry admitted. "It's... like I'm missing something."

Ron looked at him curiously.

"Never mind," Harry shook his head, "I'm just being... well, whatever. Tell Tonks to come on in whenever she's ready."

"Do you want me to sit in?" Ron asked.

"If you like," Harry looked up, and seeing the strangely self-conscious look on his best friend's face, grinned. "Unless you've got something... more interesting... to do?"

"I... well, no..." Ron flushed.

"You know that you're welcome to sit in on the meeting, Ron," Harry said, a little more seriously. "But I don't need you to be there."

"Well, perhaps I'll skip it then. Hermione's asked me to... well... help her with something."

"Abandoned for a pretty face," Harry sighed dramatically. "How will I survive?"

"I'm sure you'll manage," Ron said dryly, not appreciating Harry's teasing. "You're sure you don't need me?"

"Apparently not like Hermione does," Harry grinned. "Go, I'll bring you up to speed later."

Ten minutes later, there was a soft knock on his door as Tonks stuck her head around it. She had pale blonde hair today, and blue eyes. Harry suspected, after all the years of knowing her, that this was her 'natural' look. She certainly carried the family resemblance with it.

"Harry?"

"Tonks, come on in," Harry stood.

"What's up?"

"A couple of things I need to discuss with you."

"Oh?" Tonks closed the door behind her and then hesitated as Harry cast silencing and privacy charms. She looked at him, concerned. "Harry?"

"Relax, Nymph," Harry smiled. "I just want to keep this private."

"From Ginny and Ron?" Harry didn't keep much from Ginny and Ron, and Tonks knew that full well. She looked doubtfully at him as she sat down carefully. She still had some residual pain from the injuries she had suffered during the fight with Mahood. She had been forced to withdraw from the auror ranks, and was now trying to adjust to early retirement. For someone with Tonks' level of energy, it wasn't easy.

"From everyone, Nymph." Harry replied, sitting across from her in his leather armchair.

"So? What is it?" she asked quietly.

"I need to ask you some questions, but I will understand and be perfectly okay with it if you choose not to answer."

"Okay..."

"It's about your family, Tonks."

"Ah," she nodded. Tonks' relationship with the Malfoy and LeStrange families had always been an issue for her. Her own mother, sister to the women of those families, had married without ambition, and worse, married a muggle. Neither points had gone over too well with the other two.

"Lucinda Maddox." Harry stated, watching for her reaction. Strangely, there wasn't much of one, other than a slight raising of her eyebrows. Surprise?

"What about her?"

"Are you close?"

"No. I haven't spoken to her since we were children. My mother didn't have much to do with her family after... well, after the first rising. You knew that, Harry."

"I knew she didn't have much to do with Narcissa and Bellatrix, but..."

"She didn't have much to do with any of them," Tonks said.

"But she is your cousin? And Draco's?"

"Yes."

"Was she...?"

"Her father was a fence-sitter, Harry. He worked both sides in whatever way it benefitted him, financially," Tonks said quietly. "He wasn't exactly... well, he would never have taken the dark mark, he wasn't that... dedicated, but he certainly didn't have a moral problem with what Voldemort was doing, so long as he had an opportunity to gain from it."

"And Lucinda?"

"I have no idea. Like I said, I haven't seen her or spoken to her since I was about six."

Harry nodded.

"I appreciate your telling me what you know, Nymph. I know it must be hard..."

"Harry, they may be blood, but they're no friends of mine. I hope you know that."

"Of course. I was... unsure about Lucinda and her family... I need to know what side they're on, and I had hoped that you could shed some light on it for me."

"I have no idea," Tonks admitted. "Shack told me what was going on, with Kilborn... to tell you the truth, I had no idea she was married at all, much less to a Ministry official. I... you know that I don't talk to any of them."

"Yes," Harry nodded. "How are you doing, otherwise?"

"Well," she smiled. "Really well. I have some bad days, and I'll never be an auror again..."

Harry watched as the light left her eyes and she took a deep breath.

"What are you doing to keep busy?" he asked.

"Well, I've been doing my therapy... my range of motion is much better than it was. I'm concentrating on that right now, until something else comes along."

"How would you feel about... a project?"

"A project?" her eyes lit. "What kind of 'project'?"

"I have..." Harry sighed. "I have need of some information, Nymph... and I need someone I trust to pull it together for me."

"Oh?" Interest lit her eyes further.

"I think you might be perfect for it..." he said. "I want you to do a little geneaology project for me. I want you to develop a sudden interest in your family, and I want you to research it."

"Why?"

"Because, you're connected to one of the oldest pureblood families in our world, Nymph, and given your current situation, no one would suspect you in your sudden interest in family ties. Your brush with... mortality could easily explain your sudden need to know your heritage."

"Harry?" Tonks sat forward, her eyes intense as she stared into his. "Don't pretend... don't mince your words with me. I am fully aware of how close I came to death, please don't sugar-coat it when you're around me, okay? We've been friends for too long for you to feel uncomfortable saying it like it is."

"Fair enough," he looked at her, admiring her forthrightedness. "The attacks are on half-bloods and muggleborns, Nymph. I want to know the background of every known witch and wizard in our world. I think, if we know that, we might be better able to protect the prospective targets.

"But," he sighed. "As Minister of Magic, I know full well how my asking for a census of every family in the wizarding world and their bloodlines would go over. I can't do that... they'd think I was... concerned about such things, for the wrong reasons. Not to mention, don't particularly want to tip of Malfoy. So, that's where you come in. We need the information, but it can't be an offical project. With your family background, you'll be able to access a lot of things others might not be able to, in an unofficial capacity."

Tonks nodded, her eyes glittering.

"Will you do it?"

"Absolutely," she nodded. "And thank you for thinking of me, Harry."

"Ron?" Hermione laid on her bed, playing with the sparse hair on Ron's chest.

"What, love?" He shifted so her head was more comfortably nestled against his shoulder, and sighed with satisfaction. The times they laid together like this Ron could almost forget what was going on in the world around them.

"Do you ever think about dying?"

"What?" He started, looking down at her awkwardly.

"Do you ever think about dying?" She turned soft brown eyes up to look at him.

"Where in bloody hell did that come from?"

"Well, we all die eventually. Do you ever wonder..."

"No!" He said. "Why would I think..."

"Because it's there, Ron. We lead very dangerous lives. The likelihood is, if this continues, one of us will be killed..."

"Mione!" Ron turned, pulling her against him. "Do not think about that, okay?"

"Ron, Harry might die this time," she said gently, her brown eyes filled with tears.

Ron was silent.

"What would we do without him?"

"Go on," Ron said quietly. "Support my sister, love each other, and go on."

"I do love you, Ron," she sighed, nestling in closer to him.

"I know you do. I love you, too. But please, stop talking about death, okay?"

"Are you superstitious?" she asked, a smile in her voice.

"No," Ron said. "I'm not. But there is no sense taking the chance that I'm wrong, is there?"

Hermione grinned against his chest, "No, love. There isn't."

"Harry?"

"Come in, Ron," Harry didn't bother looking up from the papers scattered over his desk.

"Can I talk to you?"

"Of course," Harry finally looked up, seeing his friend standing nervously in the doorway. "Ron? What is it?"

"If someone..." Ron glanced over his shoulder, then came further into the room, shutting the door behind him, and continuing in a quieter voice. "If someone were to want to get married... say... soon... What would they have to do?"

"Get a licence, find an official to perform the marriage, say your vows..." Harry paused and looked at Ron through half-closed eyes. "How soon?"

"Like... tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" Harry barked, shocked.

"Keep it down!" Ron glanced over his shoulder at the door.

"Ron, if one were say... hypothetically suggesting that they were considering holding a wedding, say, here... hypothetically, of course..." Harry looked sternly at the man standing across from him. "One would first want to make sure that one's fiancee was aware of their plans... and almost more importantly, their mother, who, I assure you, will lose her string if she isn't allowed to prepare something..."

"No, Harry... I..." Ron swallowed. "What is involved in getting a licence?"

Harry stared at his friend for a moment, then took a cleansing breath and opened a drawer of his desk. Pulling out a file folder, he opened it, took out a form and looked it over. Taking up a pen, he filled in a few places, and then, signing it with a flourish, handed it over to the red-haired man standing in front of him.

"That," Harry said. "Is your licence."

"You can issue these?"

"I'm assuming so, Ron, seeing as Ramona included it in the file of standard forms I needed to be familiar with. Consider yourself lucky, normally it takes three weeks to be approved. I would suggest... strongly... that you discuss this with Hermione immediately. While women seem to be thrilled to be surprised with a proposal, I assure you, my knowledge of Hermione tells me that she would not be thrilled with a surprise wedding. Women are funny about things like that, Ron."

"That's it? That's a marriage licence?" Ron looked down at the single sheet of paper in his hands with surprise clearly showing on his face.

"What did you expect? Something with chains and manacles?" Harry said, leaning back in his chair.

Ron flushed, "Thanks, Harry."

"Ron? I would suggest you go and talk to Hermione. Right now."

Ron grinned and opened the door to the hallway, heading out and nearly colliding with Snape, whose fury was showing clearly on his face, his black robes billowing out behind him as he strode angrily into Harry's study.

"What the hell is this I hear about you tracing the lineage of every witch and wizard in England? Are you insane, Potter?"

GiGiFanfic: As I said before, I'm glad you're back. I was worried I'd lost you after reading your comments over at James' fic... I realize this story is very different than Power of Truth... but it had to be!

Whimsical Firefly: Ah, yes... the power of evil... And hey, don't dismiss ANY possibilities until you see the word "finis"!

Elise: If you've read the prequel, you know that anything is possible...

Larna Mandrea: "Boy-who-was-a-loser"? HEY! GET HER!!!!!

Merlindamage: Don't I always?

Shotgunn: And how is my little conspiracy theorist today? LOL – you did it, baby – you were the number one reviewer on the last chapter. As to Fred and George – I said they weren't QUITE the pranksters... I said NOTHING about them following the straight and narrow ALL the time (grin). And who said Malcolm was referring to ton-tongue-toffees? All will be revealed in time. I promise.

CQ