Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, not even his knee caps.
The Collaborator
Chapter IV
Tonks didn't open her eyes at first. Instead she probed her surroundings using her other senses. She was lying on something fairly soft, but lumpy and uncomfortable nonetheless, most likely an old mattress. There was a faint, stale smell of old liquor and tobacco. The light seemed dim and she could hear creaking floor boards and distant traffic. She was in a cheap hotel. There was someone next to her. This was the epitome of the word 'damn.' Tonks opened her eyes.
"Karkaroff, get out of my bloody bed!" shouted Tonks, thoroughly pissed off.
"Go away, bloody woman. I'm trying to sleep."
Tonks smacked him upside the head. "If you haven't noticed we have gone from walking along a street to a sleazy hotel room and we don't know how."
Karkaroff lifted his head and took a look around. "So we are. Sorry to ruin your reputation."
"Reputation? What reputation?"
"Never mind. What now Captain?"
"Perhaps we should find out where and when we are?" said Tonks with fake puzzlement.
"Always knew you were a smart cookie."
"Shut up."
Tonks got up and took a look out the window. They were in London still; that she knew. From the way the mirror snored, she knew that this was a hotel for witches and wizards. It seemed to be around dusk. Tonks riffled through the closet, hoping to find a clue to where, possibly when, they were. No avail.
"Karkaroff, I'm heading down yonder to see where we are," said Tonks, changing her appearance to a middle-aged woman with rusty curls.
"I'm not staying here," said Karkaroff, sending a glare towards a cockroach.
"Alright, then come on," said Tonks, turning the doorknob.
They stepped down the stairs slowly. They then turned down the hall to enter a pub. By look of the place no age could be set, but a paper on the table revealed that it was December twenty-first of 1954. Tonks sat at a table. The place was full of shady looking characters. Tonks wished she hadn't gone so normal.
Karkaroff brought some toast and whiskey from the bar. Tonks looked from him to the whiskey questioningly. "We need it," he said. Tonks shrugged and dug into the toast.
Tonks surveyed the people at the bar with interest. She didn't recognize a single wizard or witch. Not that she would; she was far from her own time.
A gust of icy wind came in as the door opened and a hooded figure entered. Tonks looked even more curiously as the figure slid into the chair of a table across from her, which already held a one-eyed wizard with weathered skin and a large appetite. The most-likely-both-wizards conversed a while. Tonks lost interest and went back to her toast.
After a while, Tonks decided to break the silence between her and Karkaroff. "Well, what shall we do next?" she asked.
"How should I know?" he answered testily.
"So much for the intelligence of Professors," replied Tonks with a sigh.
"Oh, and I'll bet you, the almighty Auror, have plan?" mocked Karkaroff.
"If I did, I wouldn't have asked you."
Karkaroff didn't reply; he started reading the paper. Tonks didn't like to be ignored. In fact, she loathed it. "So, how was it working for Voldemort? How did you start at it anyway? Most people I know of had morbid and power-hungry families to begin with, but not you. It's not likely that as a kid you life's ambition was to be a lapdog to an evil bastard."
Karkaroff gave her a withering look and then continued to ignore her questions. This did not sit too well with Tonks. She grew quite angry. "Hey, Karkaroff! I was talking to you!" she said, quite loudly.
Karkaroff was about to extend a bitter insult to Tonks when the hooded figure suddenly launched from his seat and walked carefully over to Karkaroff. "Can I help you?" snarled Karkaroff.
"Mr. Karkaroff, I would like to extend my greetings," said the man in a low voice. "I was wondering if you could follow me, please." It was no request. Both Tonks and Karkaroff looked at the man curiously.
"I don't see—" started Karkaroff.
"Follow me, please," said the man, discreetly pulling out his wand and pointing it at Karkaroff's throat.
"By all means," said Tonks. "He's no loss to me." She meant it in some ways, but in spite of his unpleasant demeanor, Tonks was glad to have some company. Tonks acted fast. "Expell—"
She had not been fast enough by any means. She suddenly found her wand taken by the one-eyed wizard. She made to fight back, wandless otherwise, but the one-eyed man put his wand to her throat. "Don't try it, Ma'am," he said gruffly.
"Thank you, Gustav," said the hooded man. "Mr. Bucket, my we have a private room, perchance?"
If the barkeep cared anything at all about this sudden act of polite hostility, he did not show it. He led them down a dark, dingy hall to the last door. Tonks and Karkaroff were pushed in, but only the hooded man followed. He locked the door behind him. Tonks held her face calm and steady. Although, inside she was panicked, she quickly analyzed the situation, trying to think of possible escape tactics.
"I must say, Karkaroff, it is lovely to see you again, so well and whole. This whole time I had thought that some horrible accident had befallen you, or perhaps it has. I ask you where is your wife?" the man asked.
"Wife?" asked Karkaroff in return.
"I see," said the man. "My dear lady, I do hope that this man hasn't deceived you. Are you aware that he was married, or perhaps still is?"
"I can't say I am," said Tonks, unsure of what this had to do with anything. Maybe the man was just a lunatic.
The man turned to Karkaroff; his body language showed anger. "You dare deceive this woman? I sincerely hope, that for your own sake, you have a good explanation, for if you don't I will get he vengeance that I have desired for years."
"What—?" said Karkaroff, confused.
The man advanced. "I told myself for years that there must have been some explanation, that something had happened. I see now that my suffering has been caused by no mere accident, but by an appalling man, not just a regular man, but one of my own. I would have expected it of them, but of one of my own denomination…"
"I have—" started Karkaroff again.
"Shut up!" shouted the man, sparks issuing from his wand. "You gave me hope! A hope that I would be free from that place! It was hell! I had thought that there was an accident, that you and your wife were dead. I found out later what I was. I thought you had sensed something, that the reason I was so alone was my fault. Bastard! And now you replace your wife! You take some…some harlot and pretend that Mrs. Tonks never existed!
"Oh, and you must have known! You knew what I was! You—"
Tonks could feel his anger radiating from him and she felt compassion for him. "Tom," she said cutting him off.
"Who—?" he asked.
Tonks approached him carefully. "Don't do this. I am sorry for everything you have gone through, but this is not way—"
"What do you know?" he roared, hood falling. Tonks stood back. He was just a kid, maybe seventeen or so, but his cold eyes flashed with so much anger and hurt, yet it seemed that their was a piece of him missing. He must have already created his first Horcrux, she thought.
"Don't do this," she repeated quietly. "You're just going to destroy yourself."
"Wretch! Stay out of this!"
"Tom," said Tonks a little more forcibly, "you can be more, far better than your creation. Don't give in to your hatred."
Wise advice is often gone unheard and unwanted. Voldemort's face contorted with further rage. He shot a stream of purple light at Tonks, which she ducked. Karkaroff took this distraction to duck under the table. Tonks shot him a glare, but then looked back to Voldemort.
"Your soul belongs in you. It should not be sold off, piece by piece."
Wands were forgotten at this point. Tonks didn't even have time to struggle before she found herself pinned to the wall, Voldemort's hand pressed to her throat. He was so young.
"Who are you?" he demanded. "What do you know?"
Karkaroff slid out from under the table. "We know much. We can make you more powerful than you could hope to be. Just give us the chance. With our help even Dumbledore will cower in your presence."
That was the clincher. As soon as Dumbledore was mentioned, Karkaroff had Voldemort's full attention. "How?" he asked curiously.
"That will come in time, My Lord," said Karkaroff, with no sense of mockery.
Voldemort grinned.
"Bastard," spat Tonks at Karkaroff.
"It business, girl. You someday had to figure out how the world works."
"Oh, silly me," said Tonks hoarsely, seeing that Voldemort's hand was still pressing into her throat.
"Explain everything," demanded Voldemort. "From the beginning: the orphanage."
"Ah, yes," started Karkaroff. "I believe that this is best stated bluntly. We are from the future…"
"We?"
"Yes, Miss Tonks and I."
"And where is Miss Tonks?"
"I believe you would be holding her to the wall," said Karkaroff bemusedly.
Voldemort gave Tonks a hard, cold look and proceeded to petrify her and set her in a chair. "Continue."
"In the future you are the most powerful being alive. You are quickly taking control of the world. There are only a few small factions that have the will to fight you and in time they would be gone. Miss Tonks was the leader of one of these factions, a filthy half-blood she is. I, one of you most loyal servants, was sent in as a spy. They 'captured' me. Well, they went to check out the orphanage and took me with them. We didn't expect to find a time portal there."
Tonks would have rolled her eyes, but Voldemort looked interested. "It worked. My time portal worked."
"Yes, in time it will. That incident brought us to the first time we met. Miss Tonks, being the dim-witted optimist she is, thought that we should adopt you, try to suppress you, make you weak. I had other plans, but as we left, an after-effect of the time portal set in and we were sent here. The rest you know."
Voldemort seemed to consider this story. "And Miss Tonks' appearance?"
"You have never seen the real Miss Tonks."
"Show me. I want to see the woman that dares oppose me."
Tonks found herself unfrozen, but just as soon, an Imperius was set on her. She threw it off easily. Voldemort seemed impressed.
"I may mention that she is an Auror," said Karkaroff.
"Ah," said Voldemort, sending a stronger curse. It took ten minutes before Tonks' will was finally over thrown. She morphed, but as she chose, seeing it as some defiance she could hold.
"I said I wanted to see the woman who defies me," said Voldemort, eyeing Tonks' blue hair, but also looking surprised by the morphing.
"This is her. Miss Tonks is an Auror and Metamorphagus. The youngest of Ministry, half-blood, and descendent of the most noble house of Black."
"Is she? Miss Tonks if you will please join this conversation, I would like to hear what you have to say."
Tonks looked surprised, but joined nonetheless. "Don't trust the deceitful. Karkaroff would only tell the truth if there was nothing he could get out of a lie."
"Is that so? Would you like to tell me your version?"
"Power willingly abandons its disciples."
"Ah, so he tells the truth."
"Yes and I can guide you, make the road smoother," said Karkaroff.
"More like he'll order you around and throw you a bone once in a while in exchange for a piece of your power," said Tonks angrily.
"Miss Tonks has quite a tongue I see," mused Voldemort.
"Yes and she has trouble holding it. If I were you, I would silence her."
"Perhaps, but I may want to hear what else she has to say."
"I am willing to bet that she knows a lot. For years she has been in an order in whose only goal is to destroy you. She must know a lot."
"I see, but I doubt she will willingly disclose her knowledge."
"You know, it is quite rude to talk about someone as if they weren't in the room," said Tonks testily.
"I believe, my Lord, that we have made the little Nymph angry. I would suggest that the best way to get something out of her would be Versitilium," sneered Karkaroff.
"Indeed, but that is difficult to come by. The ingredients alone cost more than her life is worth. I would say a general torturing is best."
"If you don't mind taking my advice on the subject, my Lord, I would say that that would be a waste of energy. She won't break easily, if at all."
At this moment Tonks was actually grateful to Karkaroff. At least he thought that much of her. She had to think of a way to get out of this situation. She wanted neither to be tortured or to help Voldemort. And yet, she somehow still thought that Voldemort was reachable, if only she could crack his cold, angry exterior, if only she knew for sure that he was soft inside. A tickle attack perhaps?
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A/N: I, once again, apologize for the long delay. I would also like to add that, while the next chapter is already started, that I will most likely not be able to continue producing as I have in the past. Thank you all for reading with an extra special thank you to those who have reviewed.
Until next time,
Perplexity