Monday morning dawned bright and early, and Remus did likewise. Tonks had been her usual chirpy self when the boys had returned on Sunday night, but later on, she had clung to him tightly. When Remus had obliquely indicated that Cal had filled him in, Tonks had equally obliquely indicated that she did not really want to discuss the matter at the moment. And then she had given him a great big hug.
Now, she was looking at him fondly,and leaning forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you this evening, alright? Don't get into any trouble at that Parkinson place, you hear me?"
Remus nodded and stuck his tongue out cheekily as she backed away. With a sniff, Tonks left for work. Remus grinned and then tucked into his breakfast, opening up the latest copy of the Daily Prophet. Both he and Tonks had ignored the front page, which had been trumpeting the latest crimes of the Cunning Changeling, who had apparently decided that murder was to his liking, and was implicated in a murder in Suffolk on Friday, and two murders on the Continent.
The next two pages were filled with also filled with grim news, and Remus' fine mood quickly evaporated. The Minister of Magic had decided that emergency measures were necessary to stem the wave of Metamorphamagus related crimes, and had decreed that all Metamorphmagi would be required to register and wear a small badge at all times that would warn the public if the wearer was morphing. The motion had to pass through the appropriate scrutiny, but it seemed likely to pass by tomorrow. Apparently, several dedicated Ministry workers had spent the whole weekend developing the badge.
Remus sighed, and flipped through the rest of the paper. The only bright spot was in the letters column, where a certain Mr. R. Appleby had written in.
Dear Sir,
I would like to suggest that, as the Ministry is having so many problems resolving the multitudinous problems besetting Wizarding Britain, perhaps the Minister should contemplate extraordinary steps. If the Minister were to call upon Harry Potter to follow the example of that noble Roman Cincinnatus, I am sure that, like that esteemed gentleman, he would feel obliged to accept. I have no doubt that Harry Potter would be able to save the wizarding world for the third time, unlike the current Administration.
Yours faithfully,
Mr. Robert Appleby
Editor's Note: Cincinnatus was a retired hero called up by the Roman Wizarding Senate to act as the head of state during one of the many Roman wars.
Remus was almost as surprised by the Editor's Note as by the letter, but it brought a much needed smile to his lips. That was an excellent idea, although he knew that Harry would hardly appreciate it. He had always claimed to hate politics, and had only accepted his position on the Wizengamot with great reluctance, claiming that he was far too young and inexperienced. Of course, everyone disagreed with him; Remus thought that he had far too much experience.
On that happy thought, he folded away the newspaper and stacked away his plate. An owl tapped its beak on the kitchen window, and he quickly opened it up. The owl glided round the room, elegantly dropping an envelope on the table before swooping back out. Remus shrugged and then picked up the envelope. It was a high quality envelope, bearing the Ministry seal and addressed to Tonks. Frowning, he put it down on the table, and left.
The work was boring enough; the foundations were nearly finished now. The company was welcoming, though, and Remus took the opportunity to find out their views on the latest news. Perhaps unsurprisingly, all those who spoke up were in agreement with the proposed Metamorphmagi tags. After all, they did not need to morph in daily life, and it could only act to protect people against unscrupulous Metamorphmagi. After all, who knew how many there were out there? As for the letter about Harry Potter, they all thought that it was a great idea.
Remus came home that evening tired and frustrated. He really needed to make some progress on working out what the Parkinsons were up to. He suspected that Tonks would have already infiltrated the house several times and found out all the answers.
Tonks was back relatively early, and Remus could tell straight away that she was not happy. She was muttering various things that sounded rather impolite as she stalked into the kitchen. Remus walked over and hugged her. "Nice day at work?"
"Hah! I wish." She leaned into him briefly and then pulled away to pick up the letter, still sitting on the table. She opened it and read the contents briefly, pursing her lips. She then folded it up carefully, although her hands were twitching, and Remus could sense a slow-burning fury.
"From the Ministry?"
Tonks turned away and busied herself making a cup of tea, not looking at him. "Yeah. I suppose you've heard about this cockeyed scheme."
"You don't have to wear it."
"Maybe. Maybe not. I still have to register though. I mean, it's not as if I can keep my 'condition' secret. Everyone knows that I'm a Metamorphmagus."
"Pick another face when you go outside."
Tonks turned round to look at him. "That's hardly an ideal solution, Remus. In any case, if I want to go to work, I'll have to wear it. Can't have Aurors breaking the law, now can we?"
Remus decided that action was called for, and stepped over to kiss her. "I don't care that you're a Metamorph," he murmured.
"Thanks. I needed to hear that," Tonks said and smiled lopsidedly. "I suppose this is all old hat for you, though."
"You never get used to it, though." He hugged her again.
When the kettle boiled, she finished making the tea, and sat down at the table, pushing a mug over to Remus. "Apparently I'll get the badge by Owl tomorrow. Compulsory from Wednesday on, until the decree is rescinded. I wonder how it works."
Remus shrugged. "It says in the paper that it should detect any morph, and give out an alarm, so that the Metamorphmagus is forced to adopt their natural form."
Tonks smiled, although she did not appear to be any more cheerful. "Well, that's hardly going to work." When Remus looked questioningly at her, she waved her hand vaguely and he decided not to press.
Instead he decided to try and cheer her up. "How about we go to the cinema this evening. You know, the Muggle thing. I remember where it was, and they have films on every day! I'll even throw in some Muggle dinner."
Tonks stared at him for a second, and then laughed. "Well, I can hardly refuse an offer like that. Just let me go and get changed."
On Tuesday, Remus had decided to step up his investigations, and carried along a clean piece of parchment. The foundations were finished and the site had to be prepped to receive the Muggle workers. Remus was conveniently tasked with checking all of the areas covered. As he set off, he whipped out the parchment and tapped it with his wand. He could not create a Marauder's Map just like that, but he could certainly make something that would create a map of the areas he visited. The bird's eye view might help.
At lunchtime, he decided to try his luck. He waited until everyone had left for lunch, and then headed towards the Manor. It was quite a way from the actual construction site, and so half an hour had passed before he was close. He had half an hour left, but he figured that he could Apparate back without too many problems. He was facing the back of the house, which had two large sets of bay windows facing onto a large, well-tended lawn. Remus hesitated, and then cast a Disillusionment Charm before crossing the lawn.
He felt rather exposed, but no alarms sounded. He moved past the windows, and sidled around the building until he spotted a door. He listened at it, but heard nothing, and so gently tried the handle. It was locked, but to his surprise, a silent Alohomora opened it. He slipped inside, and found himself in a deserted kitchen. It had obviously just been in use though, and he guessed that the Parkinsons were in the middle of receiving their lunch. The next door he tried was not locked, and then Remus was inside the house proper, creeping along the corridors. He tried to remember the little that Tonks had been able to gather about the layout of the house, and then paused abruptly when he peeked round the next corner; it had paintings.
Remus chewed his lip and decided to crawl along the floor, and hope that his Disillusionment Charm held. He risked a glance at the paintings, but none appeared to notice him. At the next corner, he suddenly recognised his surroundings. He had come this way with Mr. Birtwhistle when he had gone to visit Roger Parkinson. He could either go to Birtwhistle's office, or Parkinson's. Fearing that this might be his only opportunity, he headed towards the Parkinson study, still taking all due precautions.
Soon he was at the door to the study. It had been years since he had engaged in such behaviour, but the old reflexes came back every time he felt a jolt of fear, and he had been going through all the old charms that he could remember over the last couple of days. Accordingly, he whispered, "Senseo." The door started to glow softly in several places, indicating where it was warded. Remus studied the spots for several seconds, trying to see how they all linked together. He could see that they were all keyed to one password. At Hogwarts, the Marauders had developed a spell to tease the password out of some of the guardians that blocked certain secret passageways. Still, it had always failed in more complicated cases, and he suspected that this would be one of those times.
Instead, he stepped past the door and tapped the wall gently with his wand, muttering, "Transparencio." A small patch of the wall swirled and the colour leached out of it. The wall was still there, but Remus could now see through it. Very few people thought to ward their walls for anything short of destruction, and Roger Parkinson was obviously not one of those people.
The study looked much as it had done before. The desk was covered in paper, and the walls were filled with files and books. Remus could read some of the labels, but the files all seemed to be concerned with harmless construction issues. He did not spot anything obviously out of place, but then he had not really expected to do so.
He stood there for several minutes, racking his brains for a suitable spell with which to continue his investigation. A noise, echoing down one of the corridors, brought him right back into the present moment. He would have to come up with a solution later. He glanced round quickly, and whispered, "Finite Incantatem." The transparent spot disappeared slowly. After checking his Disillusionment Charm, he retraced his steps. He preferred not to test any Apparation wards that might be in existence.
As he approached the stairs, he heard some voices and peeked round carefully. Roger Parkinson was just about to start up them, and his daughter was with him. Remus froze, unable to react for an instant. He recovered rapidly, deciding that he had two choices. He could run, or he could hope that his Disillusionment would hold. He would go with that one. He shuffled back and laid down, pushing himself back into the wall on the side facing away from the stairs. Hopefully, no-one would look down or kick him. One advantage was that he could listen in to their conversation.
Pansy said, "We don't have a problem at Fuchsia Remedies, but at Salmon Potions, one branch of workers are angling for a pay rise."
Roger said, "Salmon Potions? Remind me what they are making?"
"Antidotes. Some of the workers are concerned about the risks of exposure to the active ingredients. We haven't had an accident, and I don't think we will, but the union has been carrying out an inquiry, 'to assess risks themselves'."
Roger paused, obviously thinking about it. "We need to keep everybody on side, Pansy. But we can't let it go too easily, or they'll think they have us over a barrel. Be generous, but generous across the board."
"Got it, Dad."
The two reached the top of the stairs, and then turned in opposite directions. Remus held his breath, and waited until both had disappeared from sight. Then, he was on his feet and dashing down the stairs. He reached the kitchen without incident, and then waited until the door was opened by one of the staff. He slipped through cautiously and was soon outside in the fresh air. Breathing a heartfelt sigh of relief, he Apparated back to the construction site. With a small start of disbelief, he realised that there were still five minutes of the lunch hour left. It felt as if several hours had passed to him!
Remus had had long practice at looking innocent, but it went to waste as no alarm appeared to have sounded. As the afternoon wore on, he started to relax. At the afternoon tea-break, discussion was concentrated on one topic. Jim McAllister was waving around a parchment – a petition to request that Harry Potter take up the job of Minister of Magic. Remus was about to sign, and then realised that he could hardly use his real name. Instead, he asked if he could take a copy, as he knew a few people who would be interested in signing up as well. McAllister nodded and magically copied it. Now Remus could sign it elsewhere, and the signature would go whizzing off to join the secure list held by the originator. Remus did not recognise the name, Liam Reynolds.
He headed home early, still feeling a bit nervous. The house was empty, and so Remus pulled a Muggle beer out of the fridge and flopped onto the sofa. He needed to find a way to get into that office. His mind wandered, going via the werewolf dungeon in the Parkinson Manor, to Sorrel's Institution, to what he was going to do next full moon. And to what the other werewolves were going to do. If they were being poisoned and led to attack people, he could not, in good conscience, let them go without a warning.