Wrongful Imprisonment: By Thoughts and Pondering

That's the way the world is now.

Chapter Eight: The Eye of a Storm

Ninth of August 1995.

Woozily, Tonks opened her eyes. As soon as she saw the blinding white of the walls, a hand shoved a huge lump of chocolate in her mouth. Hacking as the chocolaty goodness tried to go down her windpipe, she managed to swallow it. Opening her eyes wider, she saw Amy on the bed next to her, twiddling her thumbs, staring at the cracks in the ceiling in a air eerily reminiscent to James's it was scary.

Remembering the Dementors she sat bolt upright. Feeling beads of cold sweat on her forehead, she gasped and fell backwards as she realised she had a damp bandage on her head. A Healer came running in. Fiona. The brunette looked happier than Tonks had seen before. She cheerfully walked to Amy and added a vial of substance to the jug on her bedside table, going to the candle and replenishing the wax. She then edged to attend to Tonks's bandage with the jug of water.

Her eyes caught Tonks's and she jumped, nearly sloshing half the contents of the jug down her front. "Merlin's beard, you gave me a fright, I didn't know you were awake yet. Here, let me sit you upright."

"I'm fine, I'll do it myself," she said sluggishly, trying to force her self to sit up. Her body ached all over, and felt like she had been trampled by a herd of rampaging hippogriffs. Feeling like there was something she was missing, she immediately remembered. "Fiona," she started hoarsely, and then clearing her throat, continued, "Fiona, what happened to that Muggle, er...Sam, or something."

Fiona set the jug back on the table, giving Amy a wet rag. Her features smoothened, and in an oddly distant voice, she said, "You can't save everyone, Miss Tonks." She retrieved some pillows from a vacant pillow and gently helped Tonks into an upright position, leaving the pillows behind her for support.

Tonks noted when she said her name, she sounded oddly Dolores Umbridge.

With a horrible, sinking feeling in her stomach, she asked, "Did that Muggle lose his soul then?"

Fiona looked uncomfortable about all the talk of Dementors, shifted a pile of parchment away from a burning cauldron on the bench, and with her back turned to Tonks, replied, "Yes. And you're lucky the same didn't happen to you!"

"What do you mean?" Tonks asked, mystified. "I only passed out."

Fiona turned around quickly, her eyes wide and bulging, making her look very like her elder cousin. Her face had paled a couple of tones. "Only passed out? Do you have any idea what you're talking about? You nearly lost your soul to that Dementor; if you had been one second earlier...there would have been no going back..."

"Explain this to me. I nearly died? What happened...did I lose part of my soul or something?"

Fiona shook her head, causing her messy bun to wobble. "No, no, you have your whole soul. You..." she sad with a kind of shine in her eye. "You were...for lack of better words...nearly lost...we had to employ an experimental potion, or you would have drifted into a coma. You have an...allergy of sorts...to Dementors."

Feeling her heart jump into her throat, she calmed down and figured out that she was breathing and had control of her thoughts and was very much occupying her body, so thus the experimental potion must have worked. "God, you really know how to scare a person, don't you?"

Fiona smiled and walking back to the water jug, and pouring herself a cup of water, said, "It is acclaimed that most psychiatrists acquire some sort of mental problem, Miss Tonks."

Feeling like there was some side to the story Fiona wasn't telling her, and not caring how it had happened, she realised she could see the whole ward from this position. The ward had eight beds, seven including her own being currently occupied. She knew that this ward was specialised in Dementor victims. What the hell had happened?

"Fiona, why are there so many people in here?" she asked, trying to move her body but failing miserably.

Fiona, who was moving away with the jug of water, didn't look back, but replied, "People recovering from the Dementor attacks of last week."

"Seven people!" Tonks exclaimed, horrified. "Have they found the Dementors yet?"

Fiona, mopping the brow of a person slightly out of Tonks's sight made to reply, but someone interrupted her. "I went after them myself, Tonks," said a weary voice. "No cigar. Another team of Aurors managed to dispatch the Dementors back to Azkaban yesterday, luckily." She recognized that voice. Rufus Scrimgeour? He had been attacked by the Dementors? Public morale must be at an all time low.

There was a knock on the door, and slightly hassled, Fiona moved to open it. Only when she walked past did Tonks see that she had black circles around her eyes, she looked horrible, like if she hadn't slept in three days.

"Oh, hello Mr. Potter, Mr. Lupin, Mr. Shacklebolt," Kingsley and Remus entered the room, kind of dragging James between them.

James and Kingsley, (who Tonks realised was still holding James in an Auror's Escort grip), walked in. "Wotcher, Remus," Tonks said tiredly. He walked over to her, while James and Kingsley walked over to Fiona. If she had been here for a week...then it must be time for his weekly check-up. He looked fine.

Fiona, on the bed opposite Scrimgeour's, was pushing someone back into a bed. "You need sleep. You need to recover," she said softly, coaxing the person back into the bed.

"Fi, I'm fine," said a cheerful, though exasperated, voice. "I want to help." Fiona did not say anything, but pushed him gently back.

Amyller? He was in here too? For from Tonks's point of view, that's who it certainly was.

Fiona waved to James and Kingsley, and mouthed, "I'll be there in a minute." She walked over to Tonks and poured her a cup of the greenish water that had the potion added to it. She gave it to Remus, and whispered something she could not hear to him. Remus accepted the glass of water and smiled. He lifted it in front of her face, while obscuring his own. She could see the blurred outline of Remus's features through the glass.

"Tonks, you need to drink this," he said kindly, tipping it towards her mouth.

Tonks did not open her mouth, keeping her lips tightly sealed. "I'm not thirsty," she said stubbornly.

Remus smiled, brown eyes twinkling through the glass. "That's alright, it's not meant to quench your thirst."

Looking around, her eyes darting from place to place, (she could only move her face, the rest of her body was too weak to move) she saw that everyone else in the room was very much occupied. She looked to Remus, her chocolate brown 'natural' eyes pleaded at him. "Will I be alright?" she asked in a hushed whisper.

Remus bit his lip and did not respond for a few seconds. "Come on," he coaxed, "This potion'll make it all better."

Tonks opened her mouth slightly, and Remus held the drink on an angle so it trickled down her throat. Tonks felt a little drowsy. "I feel fuzzy," she said tiredly.

"It's one of the side effects of the potion. Go to sleep and you'll feel better in the morning."

His voice sounded so hypnotizing that Tonks obeyed, closing her eyes. As soon as she did so, she fell asleep. Before she did, she was aware of one thing. He was holding her hand.

Dream/Flashback.

"Nymphadora, please behave. Mummy's trying to help her work friends get more money for our work." They were in the Atrium of the Ministry, the rest of the Department of Magical Transportation were lining up with picket signs and wands, all of them blocking the fireplaces. Some of them held brooms in their hands, some pots of floo powder. One adventurous person had acquired a magic carpet, which had paint scrawled across it, in a message with a spell on it Tonks didn't recognize.

Andromeda Tonks tutted, shaking her head, her long brown hair that had been passed down to her only daughter, waving behind her.

"A strike." Tonks declared, looking at the blocked fireplaces longingly. Why couldn't she have gone with her dad to work instead...she could have gotten lots of free lollies. She loved Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. She loved surprises. She straightened her robes and wandered off; her mum was involved in a conversation with one of her work friends.

Looking around, she wondered if there were any other children here. In the corner, she saw a cluster of children. Three of the girls had their hair in plaits. Shaking her own multi-coloured braids, Tonks looked at them with distaste. This was too boring.

Suddenly, there was a clanging sound like a gong, but it only lasted for a few seconds. Tonks jumped, and then looked around to see if anyone had seen her flinch. No-one had, but the adults were looking concerned. Over in the far corner near the fireplaces, she saw her mother tutting, shaking her head and muttering some inaudible words to another person. The person's worried look disappeared immediately, and she passed the message onto another person. The message went around the room, and all the concern was gone, the adults were striking with renewed fervor yet again.

The short eight year old easily disappeared among the throng of adults. She was short for her age, but she didn't mind. She liked being short. Smiling as she tugged on her braids, she moved silently to the other corner of the room.

Then there was silence. A long horrible silence where everyone in the room stared at a spot Tonks could not properly see from her rather short stature. Standing on her toes, she lost her balance and fell over, toppling into a fireplace as she did so. After inhaling a mouthful of ashes, she slowly stood up again. The room was still silent.

Then, only seconds later, the screaming began. Before she could even understand what had happened, there were spells flinging in all directions, though since most of these were aimed at grown wizard's chest, they flew harmlessly over Tonks's head. Hearing some anguished cries in one corner, and sobbing in another, Tonks quietly slunk into the only fireplace that mantelpiece did not land a risk of breaking off and hitting her on the head.

Feeling faint and shivery, Tonks hugged her knees, glad that she was able to fit in the fireplace. She tried to see where her mother was out of the corner of her eye. She was at the furthest fireplace from Tonks, crouched precautiously on the mantelpiece looking like a cat ready to pounce. Brown eyes darting from place to place, Andromeda lifted her hands up and pulled herself up onto the window ledge two metres above.

Tonks buried her face into the bottom off her robe. If anyone looked into this ash-filled fireplace, they weren't going to see her cry. She was going to be strong. She was going to try and live. She was going to try to stop crying. But more warm tears fell on her robes, leaving trails of dirt on her already grubby face. Looking at her plait, she saw it had turned brown. She could not deny that she was scared. She was scared. She shivered. What happened if she was stuck in here...and no one found her? What if she died of starvation?

What if the men in the black robes and white masks...Death Eaters, they were called, what if they found her first? She didn't want to think about it.

She wanted to wake up. For this all had to be a horrible nightmare, didn't it. She was going to wake up, she was going to be in a warm, comfy bed somewhere, somewhere she was safe, somewhere where all this terror was over, somewhere where she understood.

She clamped her hands over her ears; a desperate attempt to block out the sound of what must be people dying out there, in the Atrium. But who would look in here, for a worthless eight-year-old girl? Maybe her dad would come eventually...when he knew where she was. He and Mum didn't get along very well anymore, always fighting about money, her, family, her, work, her, Krispy (their pet Krup) and her.

Her mother had dragged her here. She wished harder than anything that she were with her father, at Honeydukes, watching him sell candy to little chubby toddlers. She wished...and wished, and opened her eyes. She was still in the dark, with light coming through the grate in the middle that she had squeezed through. Crouching down, she looked through, and it was quiet. Most of the people must have fled or been taken along by friends, because there weren't many people standing up, although there were a little more bodies littering the floor.

She felt sick, but leant back, out of sight of any mean men who may be on the hunt for little girls lingering where they shouldn't be. She felt like she was playing hide and seek, back at her Muggle grandparent's place. They were the only people who ever bothered to play with her. Her dad did sometimes, but he was always busy, working longer and longer for measly wages as a cashier at Honeydukes. He blamed this on her mother, whom he claimed couldn't hold a job down for more than sixth months.

At least when he talked badly about her mother, it was the truth. She loved her grandparents. They were the only people who made her feel special, as well as her father. She had never even seen her mother's family; except for that one time...she had been hiding in the pantry, only a week before, hoping to surprise her mother when she came home from work.

She was late that night. And as usual, everyone had forgotten Tonks was there at all. She had blended in with the walls of the house so well that she might just as well be another spice on the spice rack, for all it mattered to them. Her father was sleeping in a spare room above Honeyduke's, which the owner of the shop said he could use if he ever had the need.

He spent more time there than at home now. And her mother was meant to be home when her grandparents dropped her. She had been with them for a week, and slowly beginning to believe that some of her mother's sharp words were true. Was it really true that no one could handle her for more than a week at a time? They had seen a Magical Development healer at St. Mungo's, and she said Tonks had 'erratic' magic. Magic that flowed out of her, and tried to touch her surroundings, trying to bring magic in them. Everyone's magic did this, hers more than others. She never fully understood, though the Healer had explained, in a kind, helpful voice, is that was why she could change her hair and eyes funny colours.

She was going to learn how to control her magic; she was going to keep her hair a colour she liked. Pink. She had breathed heavily, inching the door open a bit to let out some of the stale air.

Resignedly, she had come to the conclusion that her mother wasn't going to come back for a while, and she had nearly went upstairs when she heard the front door opening. Not wanting to waste this opportunity, she crept back into the pantry. But she then heard two more voices, as well as her mother's, bickering quietly as they stepped inside.

One had been gruff, almost like a man's, but was most likely just a low-toned female. The other was definitely feminine. She had left a small crack in the door to look through, so she could see when the best time to surprise them was.

But there had been something scary about these women. Both of them wore black hoods, but one of them had already taken hers off, blonde hair shining like cats eyes in the darkest caves, she did.

The other one had taken off her hood moments after her companion, and she saw the woman. A heart-shaped face, much like her own, but with heavy-lidded eyes and thick black hair reaching her shoulders in a man's haircut.

The dark one had spoken first, in her masculine voice, "It has certainly been a long time for family to be separated, sister." She had said the final word mockingly, as if she had been challenging her mother to fight back. And Tonks knew her mother was no coward. She would stand up for herself, especially if she had a plate of food on hand.

However, she had just cowered, and glanced at the table she sat beside, she did not even meet the woman's eyes.

"But of course, you wouldn't consider us family anymore, would you...not after marrying that Mudblood scum...as it has conveniently popped up in the conversation, how is that little project getting along?"

Andromeda inhaled, and gave a small incline of the head that could have been a shake or a nod. The dark woman was probably much more skilled at interpreting body language than she, because she immediately replied, in a dark voice which suited her dark looks, "if you do not do the job, then we shall do it for you. It a much more violent manner than you would otherwise prefer..." the woman had picked up a snail that has been slowly ambling its way up table, leaving a trail in the dust. She had held it right in front of Andromeda's face, and had slowly squashed it between her thumb and index finger to illustrate her point.

The blonde smirked, and flicked some of her long blonde hair behind her. "I have seen her progress from afar," she said. "The Mudblood now resides in the Honeyduke's attic. How fitting. A filthy place for filth."

The dark woman had smiled and had lifted her right hand and made a gesture that obviously meant, "give me the money."

She had reached into a pocket of her cloak, dragging out a heavy bag of money. She had undone the string, pouring galleons upon galleons of money into her younger sister's lap.

"Excellent," the dark haired woman had muttered, giving an approving nod to the shiny one. She had then taken a handful of galleons of her lap, and thrown them at Andromeda. "Take it, for finding out how to disable the Ministry's wards. Don't spend it at Honeydukes. A toothache won't be the worst thing that'll happen to you."

She had pulled her cloak back over her face, the blonde following her. She had then woken up an hour later still in the pantry. Her mum had gone to bed already. Yet she was confused. They had all this money...yet she was giving it all to these women...her sisters. If the dark and blonde woman were complete contrasts of each other, then her mother was the piggy in the middle...the third wheel.

She didn't remember much after that, though she did remember waking up an hour later, ad then walking to bed.

But that knowledge didn't help her much now. She was stuck in a fireplace, too scared to go out, but also too scared to stay still like a sitting duck. Awkwardly, she moved her head out of the fireplace and stepped out. There was still some fighting.

Suddenly, she heard someone scream. "MINISTER, NO!" Tonks saw a purple-clad Auror run forward as a body fell downward. She didn't want to look. She just ran. She didn't know where she was running; she could run into a wall and not know it. Most of the strikers had escaped, though some of the Aurors were injured. That was evident.

Another blood-curling scream sounded from above her. There was a sound, a falling sound, rushing wind, and then darkness.

Then, like someone lighting a candle in the corner of the darkness, she found herself in another room. She was wrapped around her father's legs, head buried within the folds of his cloak. She heard her father's voice ask a question.

"Is she going to be alright?"

Tonks continued to cry into her fathers robes. She knew, just knew, and if she looked, she would not like what she would see.

After what seemed to be the sound of a door slamming in the distance, a feminine voice answered, "We're running a diagnosis right now. Broken bones are not a problem, very easy to fix with the right spells, but we suspect she has snapped her spinal cord. Healing injuries like that can prove to be very tricky. It is very hard to try to connect it again. Such attempts can be fatal…and I am sorry if this is a bit blunt, but the fatalities usually outnumber the successes."

Tonks wiped her eyes on her father's robes and looked around her. There were in a ward, most possibly at St. Mungo's. She hated the place. It smelt like eggplant. Or the smell she usually associated with eggplant, only ever seeing the odd shaped vegetable once in her life. Her mother was lying in the bed, in a rather awkward position, since the Healers didn't want to move her too much because that could be potentially fatal.

"So what can we do?" her father asked in a whisper. She hated how his voice cracked halfway as he said this. She hated seeing men cry.

"We can either try an operation, which only has a fifty percent chance of success, or in some rare cases, only known to happen in magical peoples, is that the cord will somehow reconnect itself.

Tonks stumbled out of the protection of her father's robes, looking at the Healer with wide eyes.

The Healer smiled when she saw Tonks. She smoothed her starched white robes, and knelt down to her eye level. "Hello. Would you like a lolly?" she gestured to a bowl on a nearby stand.

Tonks shook her head, resisting the urge to suck her thumb like an infant.

"Hmm…" the Healer muttered to herself as she replenished the candle on the bedside table. She looked at Tonks, who had resumed clutching at her father's leg, then to her father. "Are you sure you want to go through with her Obliviation?" the Healer asked. "She looks awfully young…how old is she?" the Healer asked curiously.

"Eight." Another thing to add to the things she hated. How rigidly her father was speaking.

"Actually, I'm eight and a half."

The Healer's eyes widened, and she stepped backwards. "I don't think there will be any side effects," she said, as she nodded her head vigorously. "But…" she started as she regained her composure, "…are you still sure you want to do this? She won't remember what really happened, although we can organize so she remembers fuzzy details, so there isn't a huge blank when she tries to remember this incident at a later date." She finished hastily.

Her father nodded. "I think it'll be for the best. I hope that when she is older, this whole mess will be over. There's been less…incidents like this now some of the…people involved…have been sent to Azkaban…"

"You may think that, but this is really just the eye of a storm." The Healer replied.

End Dream/Flashback

Tonks woke up bolt upright, falling down backwards as her muscles complained. Trying to reassure herself, she tried to tell herself it was a nightmare, but it didn't work. Playing through the dream in her head like a movie, she realized one thing.

She still didn't understand.

0

0

0

0

0

0

0

Sorry for not updating in two weeks! I rewrote this chapter so many times. I still have the first time saved on a floppy, and it is very different from the final product. Oh, and Tonks's story has a lot do with the storyline, as you'll discover later…

Next chapter: We see James and Harry together again, and Tonks goes home for the first time in two years.

Til next time,

Thoughts and Pondering.