And here it is, the next installment. More may or may not come soon, depending on how my schedule works out. I swear, posting takes as long as writing on this stupid thing.
Anywho…
The door bell at Malfoy Manor was rarely used. It reverberated through the whole house, summoning all its occupants and rousing all of its denizens, living, dead, or stuck in a forgotten painting. Expected guests were met, quietly and civilly, by a waiting butler, who opened the door in a way that was generally considered superior to all that waiting around outside while the host scurried from some distant chamber. It had decorum, prestige, all manner of quiet elegance. It had the added advantage of ensuring that uninvited guests had a great deal of difficulty obtaining entrance.
But when the gong sounded, reverberating all the way to Nym's tower, she dropped her book and sprinted for the door. Who ever had arrived must be either very important or completely ignorant of the Malfoys' ways, and either alternative assured her that they would be interesting. She hadn't expected any excitement until tomorrow, when her aunt had agreed to allow her to go to Diagon alley to meet Rick and buy her school supplies. She was far from adverse to encountering excitement early, however.
Her uncle, with all the dignity he could muster (which was quite a lot, flanked as he was by Madam Pince and two of the butlers) opened the door just as her foot touched the second last step. It swung wide, magic giving it perfect balance and soundless hinges, to reveal three grinning young men. Well, Nym conceded to herself as she felt a smile spread itself across her face, they might not be important, and they were probably well accustomed to the Malfoys' ways, but the Marauders were also extremely interesting.
"Hiya Lucius, old boy," Sirius said heartily, slapping his cousin's husband on the back in an entirely too cheerful manner. "How ya been? It's been ages, simply ages. So I thought to meself, why, Sirius old lad, you haven't been to see your dear family in forever. But no time like the present, eh Lucy?" His grin threatened to split his face in two.
Aunt Narcissa had just entered the hall and, seeing her cousin, stopped in her tracks. Nym thought she was having some trouble finding her voice. "Sirius," she managed at last, "what are you doing here?"
Remus interceded before Sirius could say anything, bowing low over Narcissa's hand. "Narcissa, my dear, you are looking absolutely splendid, as always. More beautiful all the time, I'm sure." Narcissa, Nym noted with interest, turned a very unique shade of red, like she was trying not to laugh, blush or start shrieking, all at once. Remus's grin was as wide as Sirius's.
James's threatened to outdo them both, however. He came and knelt before Nym, gazing up at her. "Miss Nymphadora, light of my poor life, pray allow me to escort you on this, your birthday." Nym was shocked. She hadn't told anyone when her birthday was, assuming, quite correctly in the case of her relatives, that no one would care. Her mother hadn't even sent a card, and she supposed her father had been forbidden to do so. Nym felt her cheeks heating, but couldn't help her smile becoming even wider.
There were no smiles from Lucius, though. He glared hatefully at the three boys. "I don't know what you three are up to, but I'll have no part of it."
"Why Lucy, you old codger, what'd'ya mean? We ain't up to nothing, so we ain't. And if you can't trust family, who can you trust, eh? I ask ya." Lucius's normally pale complexion had become ruddy.
James laughed, getting back on his feet. "We aren't up to anything, Lucius, you old bag," he said amicably. "Just trying to brighten the little lass's day."
"Why of all the.." but her uncle got no further.
"Come off it, Lucy, old bean," cut in Sirius, still in his role of the car salesman-come-relative. "Get over yourself."
"We're just here to take Nym out for her birthday," Remus said. "So if there are no more objections," and his tone said there had best be none, "we'll be off."
Narcissa started to protest, but James had already grabbed Nym's hand and was pulling her towards the door. Remus and Sirius fell in behind them, almost like guards. The door, perfectly balanced though it was, slammed behind them with a booming sound. Only then did the three boys lose control, their laughter drowning out Nym's giggles.
"Priceless, Paddy," James laughed. "Absolutely priceless. 'Lucy' yet."
"I thought that was a rather nice touch myself," Sirius admitted. "Although I have to say, I truly did admire the look on his face when you knelt in front of Nym."
James made a sweeping bow. "But we can't forget our dear Moony. That was impromptu, too, unless I'm much mistaken."
Remus shrugged. "Had to do something. Besides, I can't let you guys have all the fun."
"So what're we doing today?" Nym asked. Anything they did was likely to be fun compared to spending her days locked up in Malfoy Manor, a veritable lady in her secret tower, cut off from the world. It was also likely to be dangerous and hair raising and liable to make her old before her time. That was where the fun lay, of course, Nym reminded herself sternly. Having even questioned her motives like that showed Nym what horrible things her time at the Manor was doing to her. She was turning into a bloody prat, just like Narcissa!
Sirius rolled his eyes. "Moony here thought it was time we took you away from your theory and taught you some practical magic."
"Lessons?" Nym asked, unbelieving. Of course, lessons had always been fun with these three as her teachers, but they were still lessons. She'd been studying most of the summer already, when she wasn't flying. She didn't want to spend even more time at it; it was summer, after all!
James rolled his eyes. "No, we talked him out of that one. But, see, there's this challenge in the Daily Prophet. They've got set criteria for a team: four witches or wizards, only two can be over eighteen, can't be all witches or all wizards."
Nym looked at him searchingly. Yes, the four of them fit. Remus wouldn't be eighteen until September, so he just scraped by. Peter would have been excluded for all sorts of obvious reasons; he was rather on the slow side, over eighteen, and while Nym suspected he might be gay, that didn't qualify him as a witch. "What sort of challenge?" she asked guardedly. Not something her uncle approved of, of she would have heard about it before now.
"Typical wizard thinking," Remus said disparagingly. "Big castle somewhere in Wales, dragons and curses and such like, get in there, find a treasure, come back out."
"Find a treasure," Nym repeated, testing the phrase out. If Lucius had taught her something these past weeks, besides which fork top use, it was to speak exactly. "Not the treasure then. Just a treasure."
Remus nodded, his smirk suggesting he found James and Sirius's surprise amusing. He'd picked that up, and hadn't felt obliged to share that little tidbit. Well, he would have sooner or later, when it made the rest of them look extra stupid. Before their ignorance got them in trouble, of course, that went without saying. Remus might be a bit of a superior snot when it came to intelligence games, but he wasn't spiteful or malicious. "Exactly, Nym. Glad we have some intelligence on this team." He gave the other two boys a sweet, evil little smile. "Not like those two. All muscle and firepower, and nothing between their ears but fluff."
"Watch it, Moony," Sirius growled, though he smiled. His teeth seemed rather more pointed than usual, but then, that was the style nowadays. Sirius had made sure of that. He didn't just know styles; he created them, and he rather thought pointed teeth made him look dashing, especially when he was whipping around on that ridiculous bike of his. Nym thought they made him look like he needed an extra dose of garlic in his pasta.
A thought suddenly occurred to Nym, and as quickly as it did she wished it hadn't. "Why me?" she asked. Of course she wanted to go. It would be just like April Fools, or what they did to the first year Gryffindor boys, or those excursions into the Forbidden Forest. It might be her last chance to do something like that with these boys, who had become like older brothers to her, before they scattered across the country and farther, starting their new lives outside of school. But still… "Why not Lily?"
James flushed at that, as Remus and Sirius gave him sidelong looks. In a flash of insight, Nym realized it must have been his call to exclude Lily. Remus and Sirius wouldn't have wanted her along, but they'd have brought her if James had wanted it. But he hadn't. For some reason, he'd decided that Nym was the better choice to complete their team. "Lily's thinking is too…" James struggled to find the word, "too rigid," he finished at last. "She doesn't like breaking the rules. Not that she won't," he added scrupulously, "but there are rules it would never occur to her to break, because for her they aren't rules. They're… it's like that's the way things are, and she can't imagine them being any other way."
"What the poor love-struck sap means," Sirius said acidly, "is that if Lily were in a maze, she would try and find her way through. It would never occur to her to blast a hole through the wall and go through that."
"Wouldn't that be cheating?" Nym wanted to know. "Not that I object, but sometimes there are penalties for doing things like that."
"Ah," Remus said, tapping the side of his nose knowledgably, "but that would require that someone else thought of that first. Most people are like Lily; they assume that if they put a wall there, no one will try and walk through it. So they don't bother to make the rule, they just imply it."
"And an implied law is no law at all," Nym agreed in a rush of understanding.
"Exactly," James agreed, relief coloring his face. Of course he would have wanted Lily to come, Nym thought. But the other two wouldn't have liked it, and she would have been a liability in any case. Even James, love-blinded though he was, could see that. Which meant, as far as Nym could see, that they didn't expect her to have any of the problems Lily would have faced. It was a nice feeling, knowing they held her in that high of esteem. Not just that they liked her; they liked Peter well enough, and James certainly loved Lily. But rather, they respected her magical abilities and her intelligence as well. Of course, there was probably some pride in that respect as well. They had, after all, taught her most of what she knew.
"So what are we waiting for?" she demanded, eager to be off. The castle sounded fun. It would be challenging, but no one had encountered a team quite like the Marauders. Well, the Marauders plus one.
"For you to finish chatting, silly girl," Remus chided. "Now, take my hand. We're Apparating to Diagon Alley, where they have the Portkey to take us to the castle. We can't Apparate there, blast them. Now, I want you to pay attention to what I'm doing. You should feel the magical fluctuations, and be able to figure out how to manipulate them."
With some trepidation, Nym took his hand. Remus was a great wizard, she didn't doubt, but you weren't supposed to Apparate until you were eighteen. It was nasty business all around if you got caught, because generally when you got caught, it was because you had splinched yourself. And while she was sure Remus was decent enough at Apparating, she'd never heard of anyone being able to take another person along with them when they Apparated. It would cause all sorts of problems, she was sure. When she'd asked if she could learn, one rainy day when the hope of getting away from the castle and the weather, at least for a little while, had been strong, Remus had shown her some of the theory. Her head had felt like it was going to explode just looking at the swirling numbers and figures. Of course, most wizards didn't understand a fraction of the theory, but everyone knew that Apparation was tricky stuff.
She closed her eyes, fighting down the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. She would concentrate and learn this, damn if she didn't. And then she'd figure out how to Apparate into Hogwarts, where everyone said it was impossible. She'd be the best damn witch there ever was, and she'd show those smarmy Malfoys. Calling her mother a blood traitor and her father a mudblood, poncing around just because they could recite their lineage back to when they'd been burning other magical folk at the stake to hide their own magical natures. Lady Skye had been right; there was pride in having old blood, but it wasn't just for the sake of having it. You had to use the damn stuff, and damn if Nym Tonks didn't plan on doing just that. So when Remus Apparated, dragging her through space, time and magic to Diagon Alley, she felt the magic shift around her, and she knew how it was done. She wouldn't try it herself – it was slippery stuff, and once it had almost lashed out of Remus's control, although he didn't seem to have noticed – but she was sure she'd have been able to, if she'd dared. It was so easy, she realized suddenly. All magic was. You just had to think at it a certain way. All that wand waving and incantations was just frippery; it wasn't actually necessary to get the job done. Oh, it made sure the job was done right, and that the wizard wasn't blasted into next month with tentacles growing out of his head, but it was like wandless magic: if you didn't mind the consequences, then the job would get itself done. You might not be able to stand for a week, you'd be so drained, but the thing would get done.
With a 'pop' they arrived in Diagon Alley. They were quickly ushered away from their arrival point by a young woman with a permanent scowl and overlong nails, only to be replaced by James and he, in turn, by Sirius. If the woman thought anything of Remus Apparating with another person in tow, she said nothing, but Nym thought she detected a hint of unease in the way the woman's eyes narrowed whenever her gaze swept over the two of them.
For her part, Nym ignored the woman, and set her gaze about the room. It was mostly bare, lit by a few crystal globes in ornate holders. Walls, floor and ceiling were all done in the same blue-grey marble, the only break in its smooth lines the dark blue pentagon smoothly scored on the floor, in which they had appeared. Of course, a pentagon wasn't necessary, and Nym felt it to be even the littlest bit foolish, but some people took aesthetics over safety any day.
All present and accounted for, James led them through the tall golden doors that dominated one wall, and into a white marbled room as large as a quidditch field. Here, at least, there was some life, as witches, wizards, and indistinct somethings hurried to and fro, intent on business that mostly seemed to involve rushing around. Desks dotted the floor in no particular pattern, as though the occupants had just settled down there without any regard for anyone else. Most of them creaked slightly under the weight of paper, books, and whatever else had been dumped on them.
One desk stood above the others, rising high enough that Nym was sure its small occupant must need a ladder to reach his seat. It was empty of clutter, in the austere way that said 'Visitor's Desk' to Nym's mind. James approached it with his usual cocky swagger, stopping a ways away so he didn't have to tilt his head back to look the little man in the eye.
He waited for about a minute before the little man was ready to admit defeat and acknowledge his presence. "Yes?" he squeaked tiredly. He looked a bit like one of the Gringotts goblins, but no where near so nasty. He looked, perhaps, like a goblin that had been defeated by life, and decided to give up his wild ways and turn human, if such a thing were possible.
"We are here to answer the challenge," James said, as though challenging the castle, the little man, and the whole world.
The little man looked him up and down, and seemed rather unimpressed. "This was intended to be a family event," he said, looking at them through his round little glasses.
"But that wasn't specifically stated anywhere," James said, still amicable. "Besides, we are family. All purebloods are related one way or another." His look, bland and challenging, dared the little man to contradict either this or the fact that they were all pureblooded wizards. It was very much a look like that Lucius would use, and it worked wonders on the little man; he actually closed his mouth, though only to scowl deeply.
Sirius, standing next to Nym, elbowed her. "Take this," he hissed, pressing something smooth and thin into her fingers without looking at her. Nym closed her fingers around it, feeling the smooth hardness that, together with the shape, meant it could be only one thing.
"I've got mine," she hissed back, still watching James and the little man.
"It's fake," was all he said. What on earth was she going to do with a fake wand? Nym wondered. She had no further time to consider this, for James had succeeded in talking the little man around.
"Fine," the little man huffed. "Your want please, sir," he added, with a particular amount of scorn on the 'sir'. James handed him a wand, thin and well made but not, Nym noticed, the same color as the wand he normally used. Remus followed suit, then Sirius, each placing a wand Nym had never seen before on the desk in front of the little man before turning to look at her expectantly. Standing on her tiptoes, Nym placed the fake wand Sirius had given her carefully on the desk, hoping her own would not slip out of her belt or show through her robes as she did. The man nodded in satisfaction and handed James a slim stick, 'for when you fail". James took it with a cruel smile, and took one of several smooth marbles sitting in a basket on the desk.
"Alright lads, here we go," Sirius murmured, laying a finger on the smooth marble. Remus copied him. When Nym put her hand on the marble, the world jerked, seeming to spin in the most unpleasant way. When it stopped, the four were still standing, though just, and the world had changed completely. Some magic had caused the sky to appear dark and chilly, no doubt to enhance the effect that the dark castle on the hill above them caused.
I'm learning to Apparate, Nym thought to herself, if only so I never have to use a Portkey again. Sirius looked around with evident satisfaction. "What do you think, Prongs? Gonna bring Evans here for a picnic later?"
James sniffed. "Quite. Absolutely lovely, don'cha'know." Nym giggled, and James hid the marble away in his pocket. "Well, let's get going. There a time limit, Moony?"
"Four hours. Enough time to demolish this heap completely. Look at it – it's half illusion!"
Nym blinked, trying to see the castle more clearly. It looked solid enough. But then she remembered what James had told her about spotting illusions. Most wizards were lazy, he'd said, or unimaginative. Either they'd create something perfect, without a crack or a spot of dirt, even if it was supposed to be an ancient and crumbling castle. Or they're simply copy something else, as was the case here. Half the castle looked exactly like the other half. The only problem was, Nym couldn't tell which half was which, and said so.
"Bit of a stumper there," Sirius admitted. "I suppose we could test it out…" he let it hang. One of the favorite tests for aurors apparently involved making figure out which of three doors was an illusion. If they tried to open the wrong one, they got some nasty magic for their mistake. Sirius wasn't about to risk making that mistake here.
James squinted up at the castle. "Easy, mate. Watch this." He stooped, scooping up a rock off the ground, and hurled it at the castle. The stone hit and bounced back and, a ways away, another stone bounced off the castle and disappeared. He nodded in satisfaction. "This half's real."
Sirius laughed delightedly. "Good on you, James. Proof there's more than fluff in these here handsome heads."
"In James's, at any rate," Nym agreed. "On the topic of mazes, is it worth trying the door, or should we just try to blast our way in?"
"Door? What door?" Sirius asked, innocently. His wand appeared in his hand, and suddenly there was a gaping hole in the side of the castle, followed by a muffled boom as the rocks tried to figure out why there were no longer there. "You mean this door?"
"This is so easy when you have a wand," James marveled. "We should have tried this last year."
"Didn't have anyone over eighteen to take with us," Sirius reminded him.
They moved through the castle, dissolving any walls or doors that stood in their way. "There's some hefty magic on this place," Remus observed at one point. "Must have taken them forever to make it all go back to the way it was once people leave." After a time they came to a central courtyard, its stones going green with mold and mildew.
"Now where?" Nym asked, looking around. They seemed to be at a major turning point in the challenge. Go up to the tower, down to the dungeon, or straight into another part of the castle.
"Down," Sirius said. "The treasure'll be in the dungeons. We're not talking about wizards with imagination, here."
"I don't know about that," Remus said slowly. "I heard Prewett and Dumbledore had a hand in this one. I say up. It's the last one people would take."
"Compromise and go straight," said James, shrugging. The three looked at Nym. Of course, she thought distractedly. That's why there's four on the team. You could do it with two, or even one, but you can't make decisions with four. You'll just stand around and argue it out, or you'll pick a leader, but no one will be happy with that.
She closed her eyes, trying to think, and felt it. All around her, there was a thickness to the air, strange currents that seemed to buzz past her, feeling of colors. It was strange and indescribable. It was, she realized, the feel of Hogwarts and Malfoy Manor. She didn't feel it in Diagon Alley, or Hogsmeade, or on the train. Just in the old, intensely magical buildings. It was a bit like Apparating with Remus had been, though nowhere near so strong. But to her left there was a buzzing, a feeling of an extra dimension to the thickness, almost a pink cloud in her senses.
She turned towards it, walking with her eyes closed, and didn't open them until the boys' cries of surprise abruptly cut off. Light flooded her eyes, more than anywhere else in the dreary castle, causing them to water. She grabbed her wand hurriedly. She was alone except for an enormous cockatrice, perched on a nest of diamonds and glaring at her. Killing the thing wasn't an option; it was too intensely magical, and too beautiful by far. She doubted she could stun it, even. It looked as though any spell she sent its way would bounce harmlessly off.
Behind her, there was a faint noise, the sort that she would have imagined jello making when you cut it. The three boys appeared around her. Sirius swept her up in a fierce hug. "You gave us quite the scare, youngster," he growled. "What did you think you were playing at, walking through walls?"
"Not now, Paddy," Remus muttered, his eyes fixed on the monster before them. He whistled softly. "That's Dumbledore's work, and no mistake."
"So we grab a diamond and run for it?" Sirius asked, edging towards it. Remus grabbed him back, pulling him against the wall with the rest of them.
"Haven't you been listening to me, Paddy? This is Dumbledore's work! You have to think about it first."
"What's there to think about?" Sirius grumbled. "There's a monster sitting on a treasure. Classic."
James shook his head, suddenly. "It ain't. Think about it, Paddy. We came to a fork. Did we go up, down, or straight?"
Sirius looked at him as though he were batty. "We turned left, moron."
"Exactly," James said. "So, do we kill the thing, knock it out, or just grab a diamond and run?"
"We turn left?" Sirius hazarded. "I don't follow you."
Nym thought she began to see what James was getting at. "There's a fourth choice. Something that wouldn't normally occur to us. And, since it's Dumbledore…." she hesitated. "Something crazy."
"We went over this," Remus added. "We don't grab the treasure. We get a treasure. So not the diamonds. There's something else we need to get."
"Dumbledore to a tee," James grumbled. "What else is there?"
"There's some rocks," Sirius volunteered, "and some more valuable rocks. Or we could kidnap the monster, is that what you're suggesting?"
Nym hardly heard him. She was staring at the glittering monster in front of her. It was so beautiful, its plumage glistening in the light. "Remus, how much is a cockatrice feather worth?" she asked.
Remus glanced at her thoughtfully. "Nothing. They're hard to get, and no one's ever found a use for them that makes it worth the risk."
"But that doesn't mean there isn't a use," James protested. "I mean, look at warewolf fangs. No one uses them, but they're a deal more potent than dragon ones."
"They're also a sight more difficult to come by," Remus said, bitterly. "Seeing as you can't kill a bloody warewolf without time in Azkaban."
Nym slipped her wand inside her robes. She didn't really know Professor Dumbledore, nor Prewett either, but she had the strangest feeling that they didn't mean for wands to be used for this. In fact, she got the distinct impression that a wand would only make it harder. Prewett, at least, would be expecting someone to do what they had done with the wands.
The boys' argument faded into the background as she approached the creature in front of her. It cocked its head, regarding her with a brilliant golden eye. "Hello," she tried, hesitantly, holding out a hand. The cockatrice lowered its green feathered head until it was at a level with her own.
"Caw?" it offered. Nym smiled and reached out to touch its beak, feeling almost unreal.
"Can I have a feather?" she asked. "Please?"
The creature cocked its head to the other side, its raptor gaze seeming to see right through her. Then it turned away from her, plucking a loose feather from its shoulder with its beak. Then, in a sudden violent movement, a taloned foot slashed out, slitting her chest. Nym staggered back, shocked to see her own blood welling up out of the long line that ran diagonally across her chest. She put a hand to it, staring in disbelief at the blood that came away on her fingers. The monster still stared at her, its golden eyes seeming to glow. Behind her, blurred shoats sounded as the boys raced towards her.
They caught her as she fell, wands drawn. The cockatrice made a soft sound it its throat, then lowered its beak to Nym's shivering body, laying the feather it still held in its beak along the slash. Nym cried out when the cold feather touched her skin, seeming to burn through her. More blood welled, completely covering the feather. She put a hand up to feel it, but the feather seemed to have disappeared. Her fingers found only her own blood, and beneath that, skin. She pushed, just a bit hesitantly. She'd just had her chest slashed open. Shouldn't she be feeling at least a little bit of pain?
Around her, the boys were arguing fiercely. James and Sirius had their wands out, ready to curse the bird-creature into oblivion. "No!" Nym cried, startling even herself with the strength of her voice. "Don't!"
James turned back to her. "Nym," he sounded pained. Remus bent over her, mopping up the blood with a length of cloth he appeared to have conjured.
"Hush, Nym," he murmured. Then he stopped. "I don't believe this! James, Sirius, come here." At Remus's shocked cry, the other two turned back to their companions, kneeling as Remus did next to Nym. She smiled at them a bit hazily. "It's closed up. Look at this." Nym felt him wipe up some more blood. Looking down, she was shocked to see skin peaking through the thick layer of blood. She was filthy, and covered in her own blood, but all that remained of the slash was a long white line.
The cockatrice cooed in a way Nym could only describe as pleased, and pulled a feather from its tail, which it dropped on Nym's stomach before backing up and settling onto its diamond nest. Nym sat up, lifting the feather. It was longer than the other had been, and as brightly colored, but it didn't glitter quite the same way, almost as if there was something missing.
"Let's get out of here," James muttered, pulling the marble out of his pocket. Heartily agreeing, Nym put her hand on it, followed less than a heart beat later by the other two boys. With a jerk, the world dissolved, and Nym was spinning, spinning away to land with a thump in the grey marble hall where they had first appeared in Diagon Alley. The thin cheeked witch was still there, giving them her disapproving stare.
Sirius pulled Nym to her feet, steadying her as she worked to stand as James and Remus looked on with concern. "I'm alright," she assured them. "Just shaken."
They nodded, seeming to take this for granted. With Sirius carrying Nym on his back, they left through the golden doors once more, entering the bustling white room. The little man looked up expectantly, and seemed disappointed to see them all there. With great solemnity, James placed the marble, the emergency call wand, and the cockatrice feather on the desk. The little man wrote a label for the feather and attached it to their prize. It disappeared as soon as he let it go.
"Award dinner next Saturday," he muttered darkly, handing back their wands. "Results then. Ministry ball room, seven in the evening." He turned away, and the four made their way back to the grey transportation point, dreading Lucius and Narcissa's reaction to Nym's misadventure.