Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any related people, places,or terminology.
The Collaborator
Chapter II
Tonks woke to a calm silence. It was pleasant. These days, silences were always sinister. It was a nice change. She entered the kitchen to see that everyone was already up. Fleur had distributed toast and tea and everyone was tiredly munching away.
Tonks sat next to a bleary-eye George. "Any ideas in the brilliant mind of yours?" she asked.
"Yeah, Fred and I decided that Muggle squirt guns were the way to go. You mentioned Macnair was allergic to perfume, right? Well, we first thought of filling them with that, but then we thought, why not make our own potions to put into them. Using the same basic concept for Canary Creams, we think we can made it skin contact effective."
"Excellent," said Tonks, grinning. It may be a war, but Tonks was happy that there was still humor in the world. She had always found that most Death Eaters were too serious. She, for instance, used to make fun of her boss, Rufus Scrimgeour, all the time. She had never heard a Death Eater poke fun at Voldemort. Of course, Scrimgeour would not kill her for it and Voldemort would.
After breakfast, Tonks, Mad-Eye and Mundungus went to the room in which Karkaroff was being kept. They gave him some tea and toast. Then, while he ate, they placed charms on him so that he would not escape them. They needed him to help them find the orphanage.
"Mundungus Fletcher, I have not seen you in some time," said Karkaroff, surveying Mundungus with a slight sneer. "Still working both sides of the table, are you?"
"Only for the money, Igor. As I says to ol' Figgy when I first joined, a dishonest man, such as myself, may be dishonest, but 'onestly honesty is overrated. This way I keep wit' the good, but still have my connections."
"Right," said Karkaroff, turning to Tonks. "Do you really expect to win this war? Your assets are only made up of two… peculiar Aurors, a drove of Weasleys and some other assortment of misfits. You don't stand a chance."
"Perhaps not," said Tonks with a grin. "But, as Dung would put it, we are going to give them a run for their money."
"I always thought that The Order of the Phoenix was full of fools; it is reassuring to hear that my judgment is still keen."
Tonks just smirked and whispered in his ear. "And that keen judgment is what almost landed you a life sentence in Azkaban, if you remember. Saved by a little girl, what would Voldemort say?"
Karkaroff shuddered and Tonks backed away from him with an expression that clearly signified that she had won for now.
"That's enough," interjected Mad-Eye. "We need to get going."
"Right. Now, Karkaroff, if you try anything you will find yourself on the receiving end of some very unpleasant curses, understand?" said Tonks pointedly.
"Unpleasant curses, eh? From the likes of you? You forget that I served the Dark Lord…" scoffed Karkaroff.
"Right," said Tonks leaning close. "But you forget that we women folk can be treacherous. One good severing—"
Karkaroff looked quite alarmed and attempted to back up quickly. Tonks just laughed and said, "I think we have an understanding. Time to go."
It was a long day. They looked all over London for different orphanages. It was difficult to tell if any given one was the one they were looking for because it was hard to get in to talk to anyone. All were locked up because of the war. Many of the keepers refused to talk to them. Tonks could not blame them, though. It was dangerous times and they were a motley crew. Dung looked like a dirty hobo. Mad-Eye, well Mad-Eye always looked intimidating. Karkaroff looked sinister. Tonks was the only reputable-looking one; she had morphed so that she was vaguely representative of a cross between a kindly old woman and a bank manager.
Tired, Tonks knocked upon the third door that afternoon. A formidable old woman answered. "Yes?"
"Good afternoon, Madam," said Tonks. "We do not mean to disturb you, but we have so questions about this establishment."
"Questions?"
"Yes."
The woman stared at them, her hawk eyes seeming to take everything in, judging harshly. "I do not trust you," she said point-blank.
"Wise of you not to. Constant vigilance!" said Mad-Eye.
Tonks smile graciously. "We understand that times are dangerous and caution is important, but your cooperation is vital. I promise, we are not of ill-intentions."
"I accept that, but I do not trust you company to keep you word," said the woman eyeing Mundungus with distaste. "But, I suppose you may all come in. I am Ms. Dalton, the mistress of this orphanage."
Ms. Dalton led them into an office off the main hall. After seating them around her desk, she sat eyeing them expectantly.
"My name is Cynthia Loggins and these are my associates: Roger Sherman," Tonks gestured to Mad-Eye, " Hubert Conklin," Mundungus nodded, "and Hugh Jass," finished Tonks, withholding a snicker as she received a dirty look from Karkaroff. "We are…well, you could say detectives. How long have you worked here, Ms. Dalton?
"Thirty years this past November."
"Ah, I see. Is there anyone here who has worked here longer, perchance?"
"Only Mr. Higgins, he has worked her for about sixty or so years, I believe."
"Oh, really? That's wonderful. Do think we could include him in on this meeting."
"I suppose so," said Ms. Dalton picking up a Muggle speakerphone and paging him. A few minutes later, a frail old man came in. His worn face was weathered and lined; Tonks thought it was fascinating.
"Yes?"
"Ah, Mr. Higgins, these people have some questions about the orphanage for us."
He sat and Tonks continued.
"Mr. Higgins, do you remember most of the children who pasted through here?"
"Before or after the fire?" he answered slowly.
"Fire?"
"It was about nineteen-fifty-four, the whole building burned. This one was build right over the ruins; you can still get to parts through the cellar. No one knows how the blaze started."
"Really, that's quite interesting. Can you remember children who were here before the fire?"
"Some."
"Do you recall a Mr. Tom Riddle?" asked Tonks.
The man shuddered. "Yes, I do."
"He lived here then?"
"Like a plague of devils he was. Quiet boy, but you could see it in his eyes. He constantly watched, like he was bidding his time. Well, I suppose we are all bidding our time." Mr. Higgins eyes were slightly glazed over, which gave Tonks a feeling of foreboding, but still she pressed on.
"Did you ever see him after he left?"
Mr. Higgins seemed startled by this question. He breathed and took his time answering. "You could say I did. His face, his eyes, haunted the old building to its destruction. I always refused to go in the basement. That child, he was wicked."
"Mr. Higgins, stop spewing this nonsense," said Ms. Dalton sharply. "I apologize, you don't need to hear any of this pish-posh."
"Oh, no, not pish-posh!" said Tonks. "Really, this is interesting and good information. Now, what about the basement, Mr. Higgins?"
"Well, sometimes, the other kids would lock him there. 'Freak,' they called him. Well, that was before they became afraid of him. He always gave me the willies, so Merriam, the cook in those days would fetch him."
"The remains of the old building, can we see them?" asked 'Hubert.'
Both Mr. Higgins and Ms. Dalton looked taken aback at this request. It was obvious that they found this whole deal strange. "I don't believe we will be telling you or showing anything until you have told us what you are really here for," said Ms. Dalton.
Tonks sighed. "I am sure you know a little of all the troubles that the world has been having: violence, gangs, disappearances and such. Well, Mr. Riddle is a suspect behind many of these dark activities. We are doing research into finding out how to bring him down and that research includes digging into the past."
Ms. Dalton just stared, but Mr. Higgins said, "I knew that child would come to no good. I'll show you, but I ain't going down there."
Tonks gave a grim smile and ordered Mundungus to stay with Mrs. Dalton under the pretense of having more questions. Tonks knew that they were getting somewhere, but to where she was uncertain.
Mr. Higgins lead her, Mad-Eye and Karkaroff down the hall. Tonks could hear the resident children playing in off-branching rooms, but did not see another soul. They entered a large kitchen and swung a right through an ancient red door. The paint was cracked and the hinges squeaked open to reveal rickety stairs going down into the darkness.
Mr. Higgins took a kerosene lamp and lead them down into a must cellar, lined with boxes and other assortments. At the far corner, there was another door, this time a green one.
"Right through there," said Mr. Higgins, handing Mad-Eye the lamp.
"Thank you."
Tonks reached to grab the door handle, but she hesitated as a sense of foreboding hit her. She opened it anyway, knowing that this was too important to get cold feet at this point. A rush of cool air came to meet her as the door swung open. She, Mad-Eye and Karkaroff stepped through the threshold, leaving Mr. Higgins behind. Mad-Eye looked on guard, Karkaroff looked frightened.
LumosShe and Mad-Eye lit their wands when they were far enough in that Mr. Higgins couldn't see them. They ventured through the dark halls. The walls were charred at places and at others eaten away. A rat scurried around one corner, an old broken mirror bore smoke stains from long ago. It was silent. It was ominous. A broken doll lay in a corner, its clothing singed and its eyes wide. Tonks shuddered.
"Well, Karkaroff?" said Moody suddenly.
Karkaroff looked startled and didn't answer. They continued on until they reached a door, a solid door, but burned black. Mad-Eye opened it and Karkaroff collapsed upon his knees.
"This is it."
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A/N: Thank you to everyone for reading and to those who reviewed! I must admit to my mistakes, I had forgotten that Karkakoff was indeed dead, but I do not intend to let that interfere with this story, although, I may provide explaination (Thank you toPossum132 for pointing this out). I also admit that even I do not know where this story will lead to, but I hope everyone enjoys it.
Thank you,
---Perplexity