Deconstruction

Chapter Five: Waking Dreams

He was back inside his white cell again. He always avoided sleeping because it was there that his dreams would attack him. The only time his mind was really clear was when he was talking to Dr. White, but she had already gone home. He was too much of a cynic to believe that she really believed what he was telling her. However, he was confident that he would make her a believer before it was over.

He was laying flat on his back as he raised his left arm to look at the scars on his wrist. He traced them with his right index finger before lowering both arms. He tipped his head back as far as he could as he closed his eyes in an effort to block out anything he could see. The lights were turned off at the same time every night and turned on the same time every day. He shifted onto his side after a few minutes.

In less than five minutes he was asleep, but he never slept for very long. He could stay awake for hours at time. None of the doctors ever took the time to prescribe that medication be given to him, and Dr. White said she was interested in any dreams he might have. He didn't want to tell her anything about the dreams that he had been experiencing, let alone discuss himself. That's what he hated about psychologists.

Dr. White wasn't the first psychologist or psychiatrist that he had ever encountered, but she was more doggedly determined to find out about him. She was pushy. A quality that at one point he would have admired because he had possessed this as well. Dr. White was very much like him. It would be a shame if she turned out anything like him in the end, but he doubted that would happen. There was something refreshingly innocent and deep; but also something ultimately sad about her. In truth, he wanted to know as much about her as much as she did about him. If only he didn't have to give her something in return for it.

She was very much like someone he had known before. Someone who was long dead and gone from him. He felt his chest contract in his sleep as he moved again to find a more comfortable position, surrendering to the constant exhaustion that he was feeling.

"She's dead?" said Kingsley as Tonks passed him the scroll. He read it more in depth. "It says here that she was murdered."

"Yes, in Muggle London. Her body was found outside her sister's flat, which was five stories up," whispered Tonks as she pulled out her quill and jotted done some notes into her notebook. "It seems that every lead I get, I end up in some kind of dead end. They led to no where." There was a hint of frustration in her voice.

"Maybe, you should check this out anyway," suggested Kingsley. "I mean it could lead to something. Did Oliver Wood say anything helpful? By what you just said, it sounds like he didn't."

"Nothing really. It's the same as everyone else, but a different perspective. It seems that he was closer to Percy than any of Percy's own relatives. Oliver could see things that they couldn't. That was something unexpected. He did say that Percy did have a change of behavior. He was more secretive, but he said it could have something to do with working under Fudge so closely." Tonks sighed to catch her breath as she continued, "He never mentioned Penelope either."

"Everyone has more depth once you start to look at them closely," said Kingsley. "You're making the mistake of assuming you know him, but you don't. Perhaps, you should look this up. Look up Penelope Clearwater." He shrugged. "You never know maybe her death was the reason why he became so secretive."

"Her murder was never solved by the Muggle police and her family are Muggles. They wouldn't know how to get hold of wizarding resources to look into it for them. I guess, I'll just have to investigate this myself," agreed Tonks as she put away her notebook and quill. "I'll have to go and check the place that processed her remains before they buried her and go and talk to the Clearwaters."

"Be tactful Tonks. Their grief is still fresh after a year," warned Kingsley.

"I always am," said Tonks with a slighty smile as she walked off. She donned her coat before beginning to walk off. "I'm going home and I'll start fresh tomorrow."

"Not so fast. I forgot to tell you that there's a meeting tonight," said Kingsley as he got to his feet. "I guess I got wrapped up in this, too."

"I don't know if I should go. I really don't want to tell them anything. Especially this," said Tonks as she shook her head.

"It's mandatory. Dumbledore ordered it."

Tonks sighed. She was tired, but she didn't have much of a choice. "Okay, okay. Let's go."

Molly Weasley busied herself, preparing the meal for the Order of Phoenix meeting. Charlie was helping her in the kitchen as Bill prepared the dining area. Her two oldest boys knew their ways around the kitchen because they used to help out when they were younger. However, both seemed distracted as they helped her tonight.

"Are you two all right?" she asked them again as Charlie absentmindedly continued to peel an already peeled carrot.

"We're fine," they said in unison. Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George had agreed not to say anything about Tonks' investigation to their mother because if she knew there was one, she would be hysterical. All of them always assumed that Percy was her favorite, even though she constantly said that she loved them all equally. Fred and George hadn't arrived yet, so they didn't have to face her yet.

They heard approaching footsteps. It was Tonks and Kingsley. Normally, Tonks was so quick to offer Molly any assistance she needed despite her clumsiness. However, Tonks held back as she greeted them, "Hullo Molly."

"Tonks, dear. It's good to see you. It's been a while since I've seen you," greet Molly fondly. "You must be very busy with your work."

"I am," said Tonks as she avoided looking at Bill or Charlie. "I'll just wait for dinner in the other room. If you'll excuse me." She made an almost obviously hasty exit from the kitchen without saying anything more.

"She must be tired," said Kingsley in a hurried tone. "So, what are you making for dinner?"

Tonks didn't hear anything else as she walked towards the meeting room where everyone would be having dinner and the meeting. It was there that she found Remus Lupin. He was sleeping with a book open on top of his chest. The spine told Tonks that it was one of those defense books that he frequently read as a way to come up with some defensive tactics for those in the Order.

Tonks quietly tried to make her way to her usual place at the table. Unfortunately, she accidentally ran into a corner table that had a vase on in it that fell, making loud crashing sound as it hit the marble floor, waking Remus. He woke with a start and smiled calmly at Tonks. "I was wondering when you'd get here."

"Oops," muttered Tonks as she took out her wand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you, Remus. Reparo" The vase was put back together instantly and Tonks carefully placed it back on the table. Her cloak almost hit it again, but she was able to stop herself this time. She cursed under her breath.

"It's all right, Tonks," said Remus reassuringly. He got to her feet and walked up to her. "How are you doing?"

"I'm all right. I'm just really tired from work that's all," she replied.

Remus' eyes jotted around a bit at the door Tonks had entered from then the asked, "How are you along with finding him?"

"I guess Arthur told you?" said Tonks. "Not very far. What makes it so hard is that no one reported him missing for three months. That means that his trail has been cold for that long. And the more I look the more I find out that he might have left on his own. Just walk out on his life. How can anyone do that?"

"That's the perplexing part, isn't it?" asked Remus thoughtfully. "What do you think he did?"

"That's it. I don't know what he did," muttered Tonks as she raked her fingers through her hair. "The more answers, the more questions I get. It's like pulling weeds and finding more roots. His family's a dead end, so was his flat mate. And the only person who might have something has been dead for a year."

Remus' lips were in a thin line for a moment as he looked thoughtful. "Who might that be?"

"Maybe you know her. Or knew her from when you taught in Hogwarts. Penelope Clearwater," answered Tonks. "Tomorrow, I'm going to look into her murder. That was the Muggles' ruling anyway, but I still have to look into it. Maybe, the Clearwaters know something about him."

"Yes, I remember her," whispered Remus in a soft voice. His face was expressionless. "She was a very bright student from Ravenclaw. I didn't even know that they were dating. I had suspected it when I saw them in the halls, but I was too preoccupied with Harry at the time. She was head girl the same year that Percy was head boy."

"So, she was an overachiever, too?" said Tonks. "I looked up her records. She was training to be a healer at St. Mungo's." When Remus didn't say anything else, she glanced at him and asked, "It's hard to hear that one of your former students is dead, isn't it?"

"It's not the first time I've heard," replied Remus in an almost hollow voice. "How was she murdered?"

"Someone threw her out a five story window. They found her body at the bottom of the flat. Witnesses didn't see anyone suspicious at the time. That's what the small blurb on her records say. I'm not doubting the Muggles' techniques, but I don't think anyone from our side has looked into it."

"Until now."

Tonks looked at Remus and nodded, "Until now." He gave her an unreadable look as he closed his book shut. "Where are you going?" she asked in a quiet sort of voice. She had felt guilty about not talking to him very much. After Sirius had died, Tonks had given Remus so much space that it was hard to go back to the way they were before.

"To put this back in the library," he replied as he held up the book. Tonks settled into her chair and closed her eyes. She wasn't kidding when she said she was tired. Someone coming in kept her from dozing off all together.

"I'm sorry," said Arthur in an apologetic tone. He looked as tired as she did. His presence made her sit up immediately. "But I wanted to talk to you before the meeting."

Tonks sat up a bit. "I know," she said softly. "I'm sorry, but I'm not that far along. In fact, there hasn't been anything to report. His flat mate, Oliver Wood, said that he had moved all of his things out before he resigned."

"You mean that Percy meant to leave?" questioned Arthur in a shocked voice. "Oliver Wood was his flat mate?"

"They were also best mates when they were in Hogwarts. That's why no one reported him missing any time earlier," answered Tonks. She was carefully not using Percy's name, even though Arthur had slipped up. She didn't want anyone coming and hearing anything they shouldn't have, especially the rest of the family. "If he had left without saying anything, then Oliver would have reported him missing for sure."

"Did you talk to him directly?" asked Arthur. His voice sounded more anxious now.

"Yes, and from what Oliver said he had intentions of leaving on his own free will," repeated Tonks. She put her hand in her pocket over her notebook. It was the only thing that contained her notes of the ongoing investigation.

"I see," murmured Arthur. "Is there anything else?"

"I'm still looking at other leads. I promise to tell you anything important that I find," said Tonks solemnly. It really wasn't lie just a half truth. She was a good liar. If one was good at spotting a liar, one also had to be a good one to start with or develop the skill to become one. Tonks was knowingly withholding information from Arthur and the guilt was already starting to eat at her. But judging by how the eldest Weasley children were acting, she had a feeling that she wasn't the only one withholding information. Molly was completely in the dark.

"Thanks again for looking into this," said Arthur as he got to his feet. "I'm going back to the kitchen to see how dinner is coming along. Care to join me?"

Tonks shook her head as she looked around her. It was very rare that she was alone in the great dining hall of 12 Grimmauld Place. The house had gone to Harry upon the death of Sirius Black. Despite, being a Black by blood, Tonks had never really been on any of her mother's family's property until the previous year. She only came because of Sirius and with him gone, it seemed pointless to her. It hurt her to be there. She hated coming to the meetings because Sirius wasn't there.

There was something about Percy that just made Tonks think that there was something wrong with him. Something had troubled him. The only thing she didn't understand was how anyone would walk away from their life without so much an explanation? Nothing had indicated that he was unhappy, except for when he reported Fudge. Tonks had a bad feeling that Percy's actions had made him a lot of enemies. Perhaps, he ran because he knew that people were going to come after him. Why didn't he just ask for protection? The answer was simple. He didn't trust anyone. What a horrible way to live.

Tonks pulled out her notebook and started to look through it again. She read her carefully written notes. She had a page set aside for theories, but there wasn't anything written in it because she couldn't think of anything. She couldn't think of anything to write, so she wrote her one question on page in a single word, "Why?" That was all she could do. She didn't care about the how or the when. None of them would give her the answers she required.

The meeting began before Tonks knew it. Everyone who had gathered for the meeting talked about the latest news regarding Voldemort and his Death Eaters. At one point in the meeting, Kingsley made the usual announcement.

"Not all of the Death Eaters who escaped from Azkaban are accounted for," he said in his usual deep tone. "The last though is closing as we speak."

Tonks found herself drafting, wishing she was tucked into bed. Of course, she knew not all the Death Eaters were accounted for. Some of them were her relatives by marriage or blood one way or another. She couldn't deny it. The Weasleys had a better chance of denying it than she did. The only person who could have understood that had been Sirius.

At the end of the meeting, Tonks got to her feet and quickly made her way out of the house. She had to escape to avoid answering any questions and she didn't want to linger there any longer than she had to. She didn't really say goodbye to anyone.

When Tonks Apparated home, she felt very much alone. She took a long hot shower and when she emerged from the steamy bathroom, she looked outside at the moonless sky. Tonks saw where she had laid her notebook. It was sitting on the nightstand next to the quill and pen. The sky was empty. She couldn't see any stars.

What was all of this for anyway?

Still as the grave. To him that was always a funny kind of saying. He was wide awake again, having only slept two hours into the night. His eyes were closed, but he was still awake, the noise in the night was sometimes unbearable. He didn't know what was worst total and utter silence or noise.

In his dreams, he walks down the same cold, corridor. He enters the same room with the bright lights. The hospital wasn't any different from what he saw in his dreams. Someone calls him by name there. No one in the hospital calls him by his name. He doesn't have one here. It had been so long since someone had called him by his name that it almost faded away into memory. For nearly twenty years, he had his name. It was his name that people judged him by. It didn't define who he really was. Nor the man he was going to be. Or rather, the man he was now. A shell of a former person.

No. That wasn't the true. He had been living a lie for so long. He had spent a good amount of his life keeping up appearances, even in front of people who already knew him. It was his shield. His defense mechanism against the world to keep people from getting too close. Close enough to hurt him. How could they hurt him, if they didn't really know him? How could they know his vulnerabilities?

Within the four walls of his cell, he was safe and sounded. There was nothing that could hurt him, but he was wrong. Someone could still hurt him. Himself. He was too foolish to realize that. In truth, there was no place for him to go. No where to run. Wherever he went, his nightmares would follow him.

He was almost asleep again, but something jolted him from the peace he needed. It was the vision of a decaying hand, reaching for him. He sat up, feeling his senses going into overdrive. He was gasping for air. He collapsed again, curling into a fetal position, pulling the blankets over his head to create a protective cocoon.

Time was relative to him. His world had already been destroyed by his own making. He had sacrificed everything he had only to end up with nothing. All he had to do was wait. Before long, he could be able to forget about himself.

After all, time was relative, but it could also heal most wounds.

Gwen White had settled down for the evening. She had spent a quiet evening at home, reading and writing up some of her reports from work. It was a dull life, but satisfactory nonetheless. There was very little she could complain about. Then again, there wasn't much going on anyway. Gwen hadn't been living in England all that long, but she had already slipped into the pattern she had been in before.

After enjoying a mug of chamomile tea, she was about ready to go bed when she noticed the picture that was sitting on her mantel above her fireplace. It was the first thing she had unpacked when she had arrived in England. It was a picture of her and her mother. The picture always made her sad because it was the last one she had ever taken with her mother.

Gwen's patient wasn't wrong when he said that she fell into her line of work because of something that had happened to her in the past. Most people did. Gwen's mother was the reason why she did her research almost exclusively on depression and suicide. She hardly ever talked about her mother to anyone, not even her closest friends.

It had started very oddly. Her mother was a socialite, while her father was one of the leading psychiatrist in the Los Angeles. He was always busy working, while her mother had set out to be a leading example of domestic life in the suburb that they lived in. Her mother was always a perfectionist. That wasn't uncommon among those who developed depression or obsessive compulsive disorder.

Then, one day, her mother started to feel sad. It came without warning and reason. Gwen watched as her mother slowly deteriorated over a matter of months. Gwen could feel it, too, sometimes. The overwhelming feeling of hopelessness, but it was much worse than that. It fed off of Gwen's mother like a parasite.

There was something that he had said before. Her patient had mentioned the Dementors, even though Gwen hadn't taken notes that day it had stuck with her. He said they fed on the spirits of people. Souls of people until there wasn't very much left. Even people who weren't wizards could sometimes sense them. Gwen rubbed her arms, feeling the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand on end as she gazed at the picture of her mother. The smile on her face wasn't real.

Her mother had felt utterly hopeless. Not even her own family could save her from it. The power of what was happening to her was too strong. Too powerful. Gwen swallowed a sob and looked away.

It was at that moment that Gwen realized that was starting to believe him. He wasn't lying. He wasn't insane. What had happened to her mother wasn't just an unexplained chemical imbalance or memories and traumas repressed from the past. No. It was something more sinister. Gwen could see it. She reached out her finger to touched what it was in her mother's eyes. A reflection of what she had been seeing before she had poisoned herself, leaving Gwen alone in the world.

She was going to help him. If she helped him, he could help her understand her own demons and nightmares. That was if she could reach him in time.

AN: I've been putting together the soundtrack for this fic like I do with all the other fics. Music that I listen to as I write any particular fic. Jem's 24 as the mental ward patient is trying to go to sleep. There are four characters that will be deeply explored in this story: Percy, Tonks, Oliver, and the only original character who will be dove deep into is Gwen White. I also left room for a slight mystery that if anyone else catches on to, I'll be impressed.

kirikarin. livejournal. Com (take out the spaces)

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. This story belongs to me and cannot be posted anywhere else without my permission.