Chapter 12

"Fancy seeing you here, Draco."

Alexandra Wexler, executive assistant in the office of the Deputy of the Minister, landed at the far end of the Quidditch pitch where he sat wrapping his ankle with tape. She looked very different in her Quidditch gear from the professional business robes he was used to seeing her in. Her shoulder length brown hair was tied back in a ponytail. For an older woman of roughly fifty years old, she wasn't unattractive and kept herself fit.

"Don't you have a pitch at the Manor?"

Draco sat on a bench to the side of the pitch, wrapping his ankle and glanced up at the flyers in the air. They were occupied with Bludgers and Quaffles. None were paying them any attention at all.

"Yeah, but the grounds are being reseeded and prepped for the winter. You had mentioned Berkley was a good Quidditch club." He glanced up at her from his ankle wrap. "Plenty of pop-up games, always looking for spare players."

She leaned on her broom, slightly out of breath and red in the face from flying. "A good Seeker is hard to find. You could probably replace Bill up there," she motioned upwards with her head. "He'd happily act as Chaser."

Draco bent over more, wincing, pretending to have difficulty with the ankle wrap. "Would you mind giving me a hand with this?"

"Sure thing." Alexandra leaned over, inspecting the bandage on his foot. "You can go to the first aid closet, get some salve for that." She crouched down next to his leg. "Here let me-"

"Imperio!"

Immediately she stilled.

He finished wrapping his ankle and turned his attention to direct her under the curse. She slowly stood up and faced him. The sharp, intelligent features he was used to were gone, she was now slack jawed and glassy eyed, gazing back at him. The heady sense of power and control that he remembered from cursing Madame Rosmerta and Katie Bell in sixth year surged through him. He would be holding Wexler for months, as long as was needed.

Draco stared directly into her brown eyes. It was unsettling how Alexandra was seeing but unseeing.

"You're going to support Thicknesse, Shacklebolt and Johnson in their efforts towards dissolving the Auror Office."

Her throat constricted, and she made a croaking noise. For a brief moment Draco panicked when he saw the fire return to her eyes. She was fighting it. Draco knew she was adamantly opposed to getting rid of the Aurors. He gritted his teeth as he strengthened the curse. She tensed and trembled slightly under his onslaught before finally relaxing.

Draco sighed in relief.

He had her.

"We'll meet every week to discuss your progress."

She nodded, mouth partly open.

"You won't remember this conversation."

She nodded again and a bit of drool leaked down her chin. It was disconcerting, watching Alexandra's transformation from a passionate, intelligent witch to a mindless puppet. He lessened his control and Confounded her for good measure before sitting down on the bench again. Alexandra shook her head slightly, confused, and blinked down at him, wiping her mouth.

"Thanks for helping, Alexandra, I'll get that salve after the game." He finished tying his Quidditch boot and stood up. "Let's see if Bill will let a real Seeker take his place 'eh?" He winked at her and she mounted her broom with a smile.

"See you up there, Draco." She kicked off to join the other flyers, completely unsuspecting that anything untoward had happened.

Draco didn't understand why his parents were so adamant against using the Imperius Curse. It wasn't as if he was hurting anyone like with the Cruciatus or the Killing Curse. These were just political games and neither one seemed to care about the fact that he was taking away Alexandra's free will.

Draco suddenly felt ill with the realization of what the Imperius Curse really meant for those he controlled. It was exactly what he hated about his current situation. Because of him, she had no choice in what she was doing.

And what of the effect of the Imperius Curse on him? What did it do the caster?

His father was holding something back. Draco's features hardened in resentment that knowledge was being kept from him.

Again.

He kicked off, feeling the wind whip through his hair, and followed Alexandra into the sky.

oooooooooooooooo

Hermione entered the kitchen in a rush, pulling off her scarf. "Sorry I'm late, I had to-"

She looked around the table. Kingsley, Minerva, Lupin and Tonks all had tumblers filled with Firewhisky and an open bottle sat in the center of them. She wasn't familiar with Firewhisky brands but even with her limited knowledge she could tell. This was a very expensive bottle of Firewhisky. She pursed her lips disapprovingly. That bottle alone could probably buy a black market Portkey. They eyed her expectantly, trying and failing to keep the smiles off their faces.

"What-" she began to ask when Minerva slowly pushed a half-filled tumbler across the wooden table towards her usual place in the Tonks' kitchen.

"Drink up, Miss Granger," the older woman admonished, as if she were telling her to finish a particularly nasty brand of cough syrup.

Slowly, Hermione slid down into her chair and brought the glass up to her nose, sniffing it. She glanced around the table, everyone was in a good mood, watching her inspect the hard alcohol. Even Kingsley, who was mostly silent and expressionless, was smiling.

"Am I missing something?" she asked, confused.

Remus' eyes crinkled with a large smile. "Two bits of good news. Which would you like to hear first? Order related or non-Order related?"

"Order related," she said without thinking. After her discovery about Harry, she wanted to hear good news about the war effort.

Remus turned to Kingsley. "It's your victory, you tell her."

Kingsley tipped his tumbler of Firewhisky towards her. "We have funding."

Hermione stood up in surprise, and then sat down again.

Tonks laughed at her reaction.

"That's incredibly good news!" she said, elated.

Portkeys! An infirmary! Explosives! They'd have more space! Spare wands! Portkeys! Training supplies! No more beans! Portkeys! Maybe they could even… bribe people?

"How? Who?"

She couldn't manage much more than that. So many of their meetings centered around discussions and oftentimes fights on how best to use their limited funds. Remus was always the arbiter, preventing the arguments from getting out of hand.

"You already know that Britain is a dead end, the European ministries are hesitant to provide direct support and MACUSA flat out refused to get involved in yet another European war," Kingsley explained, clearly pleased with himself.

Hermione nodded. Other countries' dismissal of Wizarding England's plight had been the subject of many meetings and cause of Kingsley's frustration. He had been working his international contacts since Voldemort returned at the end of fourth year. No one paid him any attention and didn't take the threat seriously. England hadn't taken the threat seriously, so it shouldn't have been a surprise when other countries hadn't either.

"Pure-blood aristocracy is not nearly as entrenched in the United States. While MACUSA will not provide us help, financial or otherwise, many private American donors have agreed to. There is enough fear that Voldemort's ideology will spread and upend their social order. We've got thirteen sources right now." He was about to drink and then lowered his glass. "And counting."

"That's wonderful Kingsley!" Hermione was grinning ear to ear.

"It is wonderful," Remus agreed. "But we still have a long way to go. The new funding should jumpstart perhaps a third of 'the list'?"

"And what's the non-Order good ne-?"

"I'm pregnant!" Tonks shouted, interrupting her.

"Ohmygod!" Hermione blurted out. Tonks laughed and Hermione jumped up and ran around the table, plowing into her with a hug, nearly knocking Tonks over in her chair. "When?" she gasped as Tonks squeezed the breath out of her.

"April," Remus answered, beaming. Tonks released her and Hermione went back to her seat, a huge smile on her face. Minerva had tears in her eyes.

"That's brilliant!" Hermione exclaimed.

Tonks was positively beaming. Hermione was so happy for her and Remus, but then she started to worry. Tonks was irreplaceable. Who would be in charge of intelligence? Who would interrogate the prisoners? Who would plan raids? Who would liaison with the Aurors? Who would advise her on Malfoy?

Her expression must have revealed the direction of her thoughts because Remus asked, "What's wrong?"

"We can't replace Tonks," Hermione answered, her gaze shifting between the couple.

Why wasn't anyone else worried? They already had so much turnover within the Order leadership. Only recently had they established a sense of stability. One of them leaving would undo everything they had been working towards.

Tonks quirked her lips upward. "I'm having a baby, Hermione. It's not a sentence to Azkaban. My mum and dad will help out. Remus and I live here with them anyway."

Hermione's eyebrows rose in surprise. So Tonks would keep functioning in her position. That was encouraging. Her brief sense of panic quickly subsided. She looked at the whisky tumblers on the table and furrowed her brows.

"Are you… allowed to drink?"

Tonks curled her fingers around her glass and morphed her nose into a pig snout. "The occasional exception to the rule is permitted. I'd say current circumstances require it."

"Most definitely. Cheers!" Kingsley raised his glass to her and took a long swig, emptying his tumbler and smacking his lips after swallowing. His cheeks reddened immediately, and he nodded towards the bottle at the center of the kitchen table. "That's a decent brand of Firewhisky, Minerva."

Remus and Tonks raised their glasses to her and knocked their whiskeys back, smiling as the glasses clinked back down on the table. Tonks immediately reached across to Remus, pulled him towards her and kissed him soundly on the lips. He blushed furiously and smiled down at his hands. Normally the affection the couple displayed towards one another was subtler. It made Hermione happy to see them less inhibited. She hoped she and Ron would end up this close, and her smile faltered. Ron had been distant since their kiss.

Minerva raised her glass. She had nearly twice the portion of everyone else and then to Hermione's utmost surprise, downed her whisky without batting an eye. Hermione gawked at her old transfiguration teacher in shock. The Professor McGonagall? Drinking? Wasn't she the daughter of a Presbyterian minister?

Minerva raised an eyebrow at her. "Don't look so surprised, Miss Granger. I'm Scottish."

Hermione brought the tumbler to her lips for a tentative sip and swallowed, wincing at the unfamiliar burning sensation but pleasantly surprised at how smoothly the whisky went down. It warmed her stomach and she realized that she quite thoroughly enjoyed the quick burn, smooth descent and satisfying belly warm.

She must have been studying her glass for too long because Minerva sent her a disapproving stare.

"Are you sure you're from my house?"

Hermione grinned and knocked the rest of her drink back to the sound of everyone's laughter.

ooooooooooooooo

Hermione sipped her Butterbeer and nodded at Cho Chang, eager to hear about her experience being mentored by Mary. Hermione couldn't stand her, but it was clear that Cho had a great respect for the Muggle-born witch training her and Terry Boot to be Healers. Bit by bit, they were also building up the new infirmary at Dorchester safe house, and clearly taking pride in it.

"She's really harsh." Cho drank from her Butterbeer. The Ravenclaw obviously enjoyed the high standards of her mentor. She wasn't complaining in the least. Indeed, 'harsh' sounded like more of a compliment. "But she's brought us her old study materials from when she was a student and I think she even stole some interactive mannequins from St. Mungo's so we could practice surgery." She glanced around furtively to make sure she hadn't been overheard. "But don't tell anyone that."

Hermione raised her eyebrows curiously. This was new. Perhaps mentoring and becoming attached to Cho and Terry was the incentive Mary needed to stay on as a Healer. There was also the pride and satisfaction of getting to build your own infirmary from scratch. And of course, Mary was getting paid for her time. Another motivation when the alternative was going into hiding with no income.

"So does Dorchester safe house fit an infirmary's needs?" Hermione asked, curious about the process of setting one up.

"Ravenclaw Tower."

Hermione tilted her head in question. "What?"

"Ravenclaw Tower," Cho repeated with a sly smile. "I have no idea what this 'Dorchester safe house' is that you speak of."

Mary, Cho and Terry were all Ravenclaws. Cute.

"Well it's your infirmary," Hermione grinned in reply. "I guess you can do as you please. What do you have so far?"

"Three beds, an operating room, a waiting room, a small potions lab, some storage space…" her eyes glazed over for a moment. "It's not as large as the Hogwarts infirmary but we like it."

Hermione nodded as Cho continued describing the facilities. A potions lab… She'd have to pay a visit.

She scanned the crowd of happy, chatting people, all congregating at Worcester safe house.

Now that the Order had secured a steady source of funding, all the new recruits were having an impromptu party. Combat training was hard. They were sick of beans. All were confined by and large to cramped safe houses except when out on missions. They missed their families, and everyone needed to blow off steam. Harry had suggested it and Hermione was having a great time. Worcester safe house would quickly become the defacto location for parties in the future. It had a large ground floor with fewer walls dividing up the floor plan.

The alcohol was flowing but Cho and Hermione had opted for Butterbeers instead. They both had early starts tomorrow.

She met Ron's eye across the room. He smiled and looked away awkwardly, returning to his conversation with Dean.

Cho noticed. "You and Weasley?"

"Hopefully."

Since their kiss, Ron had avoided being alone with her and the sessions spent learning about Horcruxes were somewhat tense. Hermione suspected it was because she had cried the last time they snogged and he was afraid that being alone would lead to more snogging which would lead to more crying. Ron's ego could only take so much. Harry didn't say anything about the tension since there hadn't been any blatant fighting. Mild tension he could deal with. It didn't even compare to the refereeing he had to do during sixth year.

Maybe she could corner Ron later on tonight.

Hermione turned back to Cho. "What about you and Terry?"

Cho blushed. "How did you know?

Hermione smiled. "I didn't."

Cho smacked her arm lightly and took a long drink from her Butterbeer. People were pairing off in wartime romances. It was sweet. She loved seeing everyone so happy.

Lavender was across the room, chatting and smiling with Oliver Wood. The twins had Alicia and Angelina. Harry and Ginny were in a corner holding hands, deep in conversation. She stared at them and felt a bittersweet pull on her heart. She wished she had someone to talk to about Harry. Keeping such a horrible secret to herself was hard. And she didn't even know if she was right.

Maybe all this agony was over nothing.

Hermione hoped it was.

A small explosion sounded from the kitchen where Fred and George were and she heard raucous laughter. Cho craned her neck to see what had happened and then shrugged her shoulders. Everyone was used to the twins' antics by now.

Alicia Spinnet's voice called out loudly from the kitchen. "Don't even think about snogging me until you wash that off Fred Weasley!" There was a shuffling, the sound of chairs scraping against the tiled floor and then laughter. "Get away from me you git!" She heard a shriek and then giggling. "No! Wait!" A squeal. "Angelina!" Another squeal and more giggling. "HEEEEEEELP!"

Hermione met Cho's eyes and they grinned at each other.

All of a sudden, Tonks entered through the front door, slamming it open with an angry look on her face. Her hair and trench coat were wet with rain. The music was blaring so not everyone noticed. Hermione wondered what was wrong. Tonks pointed her wand at the gramophone and the sounds of the Weird Sisters stopped with an abrupt scratch of the record.

Worcester safe house was silent.

"Meeting. Now."

Everyone turned to her, immediately worried.

"Some of you think this is a game," Tonks' voice called out, ringing through the safe house. "Your families are safe and hidden away and only a few of you have ever seen any action. We haven't had any losses."

She walked slowly through the crowd, meeting the eyes of everyone she crossed paths with. Her combat boots clunked along the floorboards and people backed away from her as she neared them.

"Yesterday, we had our first," Hermione heard a few gasps throughout the silent room. Did someone get captured? Die? "And it will not be our last." Hermione watched Tonks move among her fellow Order members, rain dripping off of her trench coat onto the floor. She waited with bated breath for Tonks to explain. "Because of the negligence of someone on duty, we lost a key prisoner."

Hermione's stomach lurched. She hadn't heard anything about losing a prisoner. She glanced at Ron questioningly but he appeared just as shocked as she was. So did Harry. Did Pinner safe house get raided?

"As many of you know, we were holding a key Inner Circle Death Eater, Antonin Dolohov. He has been critical to understanding You-Know-Who's plans and our ability to pre-emptively thwart them. It is because of his knowledge that so few of you have seen any action at all. Let alone sustain injuries."

Everyone was watching Tonks, silent. Waiting for her to speak. Everyone except Dean, who was staring at his shoes, clearly ashamed.

What had happened? Was it something Dean had done? Hermione turned back to Tonks.

"Last night Dolohov hung himself with his bedsheets while someone was sleeping on the watch," Hermione heard sounds of muffled surprise followed by whispers which gradually increased in volume. She turned back to Dean. He looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him.

"Shut it!" Tonks yelled.

The room fell silent. Hermione had never been able to picture Tonks as an interrogator, or torturing prisoners for information. She only knew that was one of her duties as an Auror and that Tonks continued to serve in that role for the Order. Hermione could certainly picture her interrogating and torturing prisoners now. She was terrifying.

"This! Is not! A game!" she yelled again. Several people flinched. "Do you know what happens when we don't have information?" Tonks looked around as she spoke, ensuring that she met each and every person's eyes. "Do you?" No one wanted to meet her angry glare. "We make mistakes! People get hurt! People die! Look at the person across from you. Right now!"

Hermione glanced up and met Cho's brown eyes. Tears were forming in them, threatening to spill over.

"That person that you are talking to, sharing a beer with?" Tonks sucked in a breath, preparing to yell even louder. "Might be dead in a week! Because of information we no longer have from Dolohov!"

Hermione heard a sniffle. A tear from Cho's eyes fell down her cheek, and she stared down into her Butterbeer.

"When one person fucks up, everyone suffers!"

Tonks stalked around the room again, while everyone hung their heads in silence. Her words were reverberating in their ears. They were shocked at what they had been told, scared of the implications. Her heavy combat boots clomped back towards the front door and she stopped. It was so quiet that Hermione could hear the rain drops falling from Tonks' trench coat to the floor.

She turned around to face them, her voice low and threatening. "If I see a single hangover tomorrow at training," she spat, pointing at the room. "You will all pay for it."

She opened the front door and stepped outside.

"Enjoy the party."

Tonks slammed the door behind her, and several people jumped.

Hermione peeked up at Cho, who was visibly shaken.

Fuck.

Chapter end notes:

Ok, soapbox time.

Tonks is a young woman in a profession dominated by older men. And she was mentored by Mad-eye Moody of all people. She has a baby IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WAR THAT SHE IS FIGHTING IN. Why? Why? WHY is this not talked about more? Tonks is the hero of younger me that had kids during grad school while working in a lab populated mostly by guys when there was NO MATERNITY LEAVE BECAUSE THE US SUCKS BALLS ON ANY ISSUE HAVING TO DO WITH FAMILIES. I've got a special place in my heart for her and I don't think the books or fanfiction does enough justice to her character. So if it wasn't obvious already, she's one of the BAMF's in this fic. The BAMF-iest.

Also, I took the idea of McGonagall being a whisky pounding fiend from Olivieblake. She wrote a crackfic called Hogwarts: the Real World, which has a ton of hysterical characterizations. McGonagall is her own brand of BAMF.