7. Have A Drink On Me

Saturday August 15th 1994

The Ministry foyer was all but deserted on Saturday afternoon when Tonks Apparated in shortly after lunch. One or two weekend workers were making their way to the lifts, but otherwise the place was quieter than Tonks had ever seen it at the time of day.

A quick glance at her watch told her that she was early, and she took the time to have a good look around. When the main hall was crowded, as it usually was, it wasn't easy to appreciate the décor, but today she found herself marvelling at the ever-changing golden runes on the ceiling, the intricate likenesses of the Fountain of Magical Brethren, and the play of light on polished wood and gilded fireplace from the soft glow of the Floo fires. A small party of official-looking visitors were passing through, escorted by a smartly-dressed witch; they too seemed highly impressed, pointing to the sights and chattering to each other in Slavic accents.

A bored-looking security wizard carefully scrutinised her identification and registered her wand, apparently for the sole purpose of giving himself something to do.

"Auror, eh?" he said, clearly trying not to seem impressed. "Bit young for it, aren't you?"

"Sorry. I daresay I'll get older eventually, though?" Tonks kept her face as straight as possible, and resisted the temptation to age her appearance by fifty years by Metamorphosing. It would probably result in far too many tedious questions of the kind everyone seemed to ask when they found out what she could do.

"Oh yeah, I suppose you will." He grinned at her, seemingly pleased to have found someone to talk to and break the monotony. "In on the weekend for a case, then?"

"Nah, just a practice session for the World Cup security," said Tonks. "Are you in on that?"

"I got tickets, love," he said smugly. "Not the best in the house, mind, but I got them, and I don't have to work while I'm there."

"You don't seem to be working much while you're here," joked Tonks. "What do you do when it gets busy? You don't check everyone in, do you?"

"Well, I only really have to do the ones who come in at the visitors' entrance," he confessed. "There's a bell which sounds when the lift's on the way down. Normally I just watch people come in, and if I need to, I can check who they are on the map in the control room." He jerked a thumb behind him.

"Map?" she asked curiously.

"Yeah, wanna take a look?" He brightened at the prospect of doing something other than sit there. "I'm not normally supposed to take people in there, but you being an Auror an' all ..."

Tonks looked around; there was no sign of any of her team. "Go on, then."

The watchwizard tapped his wand on the panelling behind him, and the faint outline of a door appeared, set discreetly into the wall. Tonks followed him into the small room behind it and gazed about her with interest. The walls were devoted to a number of large sheets of parchment on which maps of the building were drawn. They seemed to be slightly fuzzy at first glance, and it wasn't until she looked more closely that she noticed that there were little marked dots moving around on them.

"Hey, that's me!" she said, pointing to a dot marked Nymphadora Tonks. She rather wished it didn't show her full name. "And you're – Eric Munch, yeah?"

"That's me. To be honest, we don't use it much, but we've got most of the Ministry here. Cool, innit?"

"I'll say." Tonks had a vague recollection that maps like this had been mentioned somewhere in training, but she'd certainly never seen one before. Her eyes followed the dots with fascination. The Auror Office and its surrounding rooms seemed fairly empty – she could see Williamson and Benny Goldstein and that irritating bugger Shacklebolt, but no-one else she knew especially well. She spotted Ludo Bagman up in his office, accompanied by a number of people with unpronounceable names – quite likely the ones she'd just seen pass through. Presumably all the World Cup organisers were having to work weekends this close to the event, because Barty Crouch was in the building too, with his assistant Weasley. Hang on, I thought he called him something else at the meeting? Oh well, I must have heard wrong.

Something Eric had said nagged at her for a moment until she got it. "Did you say this shows most of the Ministry?" she asked, and when he nodded, continued "Why not all of it?"

Eric Munch grinned. "Well, old Fudgie didn't like the idea of being spied on, did he? Insisted on being left off when they made 'em up. Something about –" his voice took on a pompous tone "– 'the Minister must be allowed to meet with people in complete privacy in order to do his job properly'. Right, like he knows what he's doing anyway! And the Department of Mysteries kicked up a stink too – didn't even want any portraits down there to see what they were doing – so we don't watch that."

"No, I suppose not." Tonks mentally filed away this interesting piece of information about the Department of Mysteries in case it ever came in useful She glanced idly at the section showing the Atrium and noticed a new dot suddenly appear out of nowhere, which, when she looked more closely, was labelled Rhiannon Davies. "Hey, that's my cue, Eric," she said, casting a last regretful look around at the maps. "Thanks for showing me around, mate."

"Any time, love," he said. "Beats trying to do the Daily Prophet crossword, anyway. Can't even get the 'easy' clues half the time, let alone the cryptics ..."

-----

Rhiannon Davies was slightly anxious when Tonks joined her. "I really hope this works out ..." she murmured, but didn't have time to expand upon the point as the other members of her team appeared at the far end of the hall. Tonks waved in their general direction and the two men strolled over to meet them, looking at Rhiannon inquiringly.

"Right then, Mr Thompson, Mr Poppleford," she said bracingly. "Look, can we all just call each other by our first names? I'm Rhiannon, this is Nym ... er, OK, maybe not all of us then; this is Tonks."

The two men looked surprised, then comprehension dawned on Thompson's face. "Oh, right. Not keen on the name 'Nymphadora'?"

"Not much," said Tonks, with a fixed sort of grin.

He chuckled. "Fair enough. I'll save it in case I ever want to tease you then. I don't know about Mr Poppleford here, but you can call me Chesney, or Ches if you like."

"Will's fine by me," said Poppleford with a shrug.

"Ah, good." Rhiannon shuffled her feet a bit; Tonks had a growing suspicion that she really hadn't planned this out. "Right, er, Ches, Will, I think we'd better decide how we're going to split the duties, and then go over the plans for the day? I ought to see how good you chaps are with your wands." Chesney Thompson bit his lip, obviously struggling to keep a straight face; Rhiannon scowled in embarrassed realisation, but ploughed on regardless. "If we do have any trouble we need to know how well you can cope with it. Anyway, er, yes, OK. Let's not hang around here, then. We'll sort something out up in Auror headquarters."

"Auror HQ, eh?" Thompson said to them with interest as they rode up to the second floor in the lift. "I don't think I've ever been in there. You won't have to hide any super-secret stuff then?"

Tonks snorted. "Yeah, right, we'll have to keep you away from the daily bulletins. They're our secret weapon. We threaten to make suspects read them and bore themselves to death." Rhiannon suddenly glanced at her with a frown as she said this, as if she'd only just realised that security might actually be a problem, and Tonks lost her grin as it dawned on her that there probably were a lot of things lying around on desks that weren't supposed to be seen by outsiders, not even other Ministry employees.

"Maybe we should find somewhere with a bit of room if we're going to practice anything?" she said brightly, attempting to recover her slip. Thinking of their first meeting with Thompson and Poppleford reminded her of one possible venue, which had looked more or less empty on the map. "Tell you what, the combat training hall should have plenty of free space today. I don't think it ever gets used much at weekends, except for a few people tuning up their advanced spellwork."

"Combat training?" asked Thompson with interest, glancing at the other man. "I could do with some of that. We spend most of our time developing new stuff, not going over things we know. Well, that and trying to work out how to stop people growing horns as a side-effect."

Tonks looked at the other wizard, who shrugged again. "All of us in RCMC have to train in basic combat spells, in case we need to deal with a dangerous creature. I'm probably rusty, though. For the last six months, I've been stuck behind a desk in the Goblin Liaison Office, trying to keep the little buggers sweet."

"Combat hall it is then," said Rhiannon with a quick smile at Tonks. She led them down the corridor and into the wide open space of the hall. Their luck was in; apart from a couple of wizards in one corner, apparently working on trying to cast Stunners accurately without looking directly at the target, the room was empty.

"OK," said Thompson, rubbing his hands. "Where do we start?"

Tonks and Rhiannon exchanged glances, and Tonks got an evil gleam in her eye as she remembered her own basic training. "Let's just do a quick test run to see how you shape up, shall we?" she said. "We won't do anything out of the ordinary – just Stunners, shield charms and the like. You can do ... well, anything you like, really, short of Dark Magic."

Rhiannon caught her mood. "Will, you're with me," she said innocently. "Ches, you and Tonks step over that way a bit, give yourselves a bit of room to manoeuvre, that's right. On a count of three then: one, two, three!"

Tonks was already casting a silent Shield Charm as Chesney Thompson brought his wand to bear. She still preferred to at least mutter the incantation when casting hexes, but she was quite proud of her spell blocks. He cried "Lingua Nodare!" – an interesting choice – but the spell just bounced straight back at him, and he hastily dodged out of the way. Tonks' return-spell of Stupefy was also dodged – she had to admit that she was quite impressed by his agility – but a Stunner of his own was easily deflected away.

Tonks glanced at Rhiannon, who had already disarmed Will Poppleford; he clearly hadn't been wrong when he described his technique as rusty. She mentally kicked herself for allowing herself to be distracted as Chesney shouted "Abigo!" at her. She still managed to block most of the effects, which prevented her from being thrown across the room, but it knocked her slightly off balance; and she had to duck and block a couple of spells before forcing him back onto the defensive with an Impediment Jinx. He got enough deflection on it to prevent it taking full effect, but it did trip him up; and with a mental sigh of relief – it would be highly embarrassing to lose by not paying attention – she closed in for the kill. She could hear Rhiannon and Will laughing in the background.

"Gravitari praepostere!" He waved his wand with a slightly desperate air, and a peculiar-looking golden mist erupted from it. Caught slightly by surprise, Tonks attempted another block, but some of the mist leaked around her shield and touched her arms. With a dizzying sensation, she felt the world invert itself. Almost by instinct, rather than on any particular calculation, she crouched down on the ceiling – no, the floor, what the ...? – in order to duck whatever the next spell heading her way was, then Apparated away with a twitch before she had to deal with another one.

Chesney didn't seem to have anticipated this manoeuvre, and mercifully, as he turned wildly this way and that to look for her, it gave her a chance to quickly get to her feet and allow her head to stop spinning. As he spotted her, she pointed her wand at him and spat out the incantations for a rapid-fire series of Stunners – it was definitely time to stop messing about – and this simple tactic proved effective. He ducked a couple, then blocked one, but the fourth hit him squarely in the chest and sent him crashing to the floor, out cold.

Tonks approached him, silently breathing a sigh of relief. She picked up his wand, then pointed her own at him. "Enervate," she said casually, as if she'd never once had an awkward moment during the fight. She actually felt extremely annoyed with herself for going easy at first and giving him a chance.

Chesney blinked a couple of times and looked up at her with a rueful expression.

"Too fast for me," he said, clambering to his feet gingerly and taking his wand from Tonks' outstretched hand. "Did my best, though. Hope we don't have to take on anyone as well trained as you two! I thought I might get you with something unusual, but I suppose you learn how to cope with all that quite easily?"

"Yeah, they always told us in training to keep it simple most of the time," replied Tonks, making very sure that her face didn't give anything away. She glanced at Rhiannon. "What was the theory, again?"

"Er – you should be able to tell these gentlemen, Tonks," she said with slight alarm in her eyes. "You can't have forgotten your training this quickly?"

Cheers, Team Leader. "The basic idea is that the ... well, basics give you fallback techniques for coping with anything," she told him, racking her brains to remember the way Robards had phrased it. "You can't always tell what someone is going to cast at you, so you don't want to be wasting time thinking about the exact counter. Just get out of the way – Apparate if necessary – or put up a Shield Charm. That will block most incoming spells, at least partially, and the better you are at casting it, the more effective it is."

She realised that she was reciting, and slowed her voice down a bit: "Concentrate on a few offensive spells you know well to maximise your casting speed and power. They still have to be defended against. I was practically gabbling Stupefy at you back there, because most of the effort and focus was mental. Reserve complex spellwork for mixing things up a bit to keep your opponent guessing – all right, I think you've probably already grasped that part – or for when you need to achieve some specific effect." Like conjuring a physical shield if someone casts the Killing Curse at you, she thought to herself, but didn't mention it. There was no point in alarming them.

"Ah," said Chesney with chagrin. "That makes sense. No fancy moves, then?"

"Not until you're a real expert. I mean, I've never seen that spell you cast before, but the basic stuff they drilled into us in training gave me a way to defend against it, even if there is a specific counter-spell somewhere as well." If you actually become a real expert, you can pretty much do what you like, though, she added mentally, because the complex stuff will come just as naturally to you as anything else. Robards had demonstrated some really neat uses of Transfiguration for combat purposes, although most of the class hadn't been able to use them half as successfully as he had.

She looked at him, curiosity fighting against a desire to project superiority. Curiosity won. "OK, Ches, I can understand the idea behind a Tongue-Tying Jinx, at least, and Banishing was fine too, that's a good basic spell that works well in combat –" she looked at him appraisingly "– but what the hell was that mist thing?"

Chesney sniggered. "Oh that. Just a little something we Experimental Charmers have been working on. The Committee were asked if they could develop it for use later this year. Couldn't resist trying it. To be honest, I've never actually cast the spell myself before. Did it work?" he finished eagerly.

"I don't know. Was it meant to turn everything upside down?"

"Yes!" He pumped his fist, then looked slightly embarrassed as he realised what he was doing. "I mean, yes, that was the general idea."

"Cool." Tonks turned and looked at Rhiannon pointedly: er, who's supposed to be running this session, Rhi?

She caught the hint and said hastily, "Right, well, suppose we spend a bit of time going over your Shield Charms and basic hexes, then? You never know, you might need to break up a fight if the Irish and Bulgarians get drunk and start jinxing each other. Come to think of it, a bit of practice in Finite Incantatem might not go amiss as well."

The next couple of hours were enjoyably spent in trying to bring their team up to speed. Chesney turned out to be quite useful, and even managed to successfully Stun or Disarm each of the Aurors once. Will Poppleford was unquestionably out of condition; but by the end of the session, his training was clearly starting to come back to him, and he wasn't as easy a mark as he'd been the first time they'd tried.

"Right, team," called Rhiannon eventually, exhausted but pleased. "That'll do for today. A bit more practice over the next week would come in handy for both of you fellows, but you'll do fine, I think. Send me a memo if you'd like me to book the Hall for you." She looked around. "Ches, have you really not done any duelling before?"

He grinned. "Honest? I used to belong to a club when I was younger, but I let it slip. Never seem to find the spare time now."

She took a deep breath. "Oh, I see. Right, just a few notices before I forget. We're supposed to patrol in pairs when we get there – based on today, I think we'll go for Will and me, and Tonks and Chesney. We're on first shift inside the stadium, so with a bit of luck we'll get to see the whole of the match – er, that's when we're not keeping an eye on the crowd, of course."

She moved on hastily as the others grinned at her. "The Ministry will be providing accommodation starting from the weekend before the match – so, no problem for us if it does go on a long time. There'll be an area set aside for tents for the security staff; I've had a look at them already, and they'll do fine – not luxurious, but they've got beds, a kitchen and a bathroom, all we'll really need for a few days camping out. Tonks, I'll share with you, obviously; er, you're OK to tell these two what to do if I need to disappear from time to time? Check orders and stuff?"

"Yeah, no problem, Rhi," said Tonks. Stuff like visiting Donnacha in the posh tent that came with his ticket package, maybe? she thought, but out of solidarity, she didn't say it in front of the others.

"Great. Right, I think we deserve a drink after all that," said Rhiannon with relief. "Any suggestions for a venue?"

-----

"You know, Chesh ... Ches, I'm not entirely sh ... sure this is a good idea?"

"Oh, don't be such a wuss, Nymphadora! Last one to Hogsmeade buys the next round!"

Tonks couldn't quite remember when the concept of turning the evening into a Round Britain Pub Crawl had cropped up. She was having a little trouble with her memory at this point, not to mention her sense of balance (always precarious at the best of times). She was pretty sure it couldn't have been earlier than the fourth round of drinks, though.

It didn't help that they were touring the country's wizarding pubs via the Floo Network, which always had a tendency to exacerbate any incipient queasiness felt by the traveller. Chesney's suggestion that the Aurors use their emergency Portkey-creation privileges had met with short shrift from Rhiannon, who had also firmly squashed the idea of Apparation, after their first movement from the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley to a small pub on the outskirts of Oxford had resulted in a twenty minute delay while they found each other again. Tonks had clinched the matter by remarking that in any case, she didn't want to end up leaving half her internal organs behind in a drunken splinch, nor clean up after anyone else who did.

Their grand tour had taken in Cardiff (at Rhiannon's insistence), Birmingham's Magical Market, a complete dive in Doncaster that Poppleford remembered from his younger days, and a small well-hidden village pub outside Ripon whose landlord had seemed relieved to get rid of them. Tonks vaguely recalled getting out at the wrong grate a couple of times, so there could well have been others.

Hogsmeade had seemed like the natural choice to round off the evening, but it meant the longest and most stomach-churning trip yet. Still, Tonks bristled at Chesney's challenge, threw yet another handful of powder into a fire, and somehow managed to emerge upright in the fireplace of the Three Broomsticks. It didn't last long, as Will Poppleford appeared immediately afterwards and sent her flying, but it was better than she had any right to expect in her current condition.

Chesney Thompson and the two Aurors found themselves a table as Poppleford weaved towards the bar to place an order. For a moment, Tonks couldn't quite work out who the hairy man waving at them from one corner in cheery recognition was, until the fact that he was about five feet taller than anyone else in the pub registered with her. She winced; if she'd managed to overlook the Hogwarts gamekeeper, she really must have had too much to drink.

Chesney looked over at him blearily and gave him an uncertain wave in return. "Isn't that ... er, whatshisname? Haggard, from up at the school?"

"Must be," said Tonks, firmly ordering herself to get a grip on things despite the trouble she was having trying to focus. "Who else is that size?"

"A troll, maybe?" said Rhiannon with a giggle. "Hey, did you hear the one about the troll, the hag, and the leprechaun who all go into a bar ..."

"Drinks!" interrupted Chesney, as Poppleford staggered to a halt at the table bearing a tray. Tonks reached out to collect hers, and realised dimly that the glasses and their contents must have been charmed to stay in place. Surely there was no way that he could be carrying them upside-down like that otherwise?

"Did I hear you mention that giant bloke?" said Poppleford thickly. "Saw him last year, came up to the office with a vicious Hippogriff. Well, hard to miss, isn't he?"

The others laughed. It wasn't really a particularly great joke, but after the tenth round practically anything seemed a lot funnier. "Yeah, pretty much," said Chesney. "Sort of thing he'd like, didn't he have a ... have a fixture ... a thing about monsters?"

Will Poppleford snorted. "Heard he asked if he could get –" he paused to say the next word very slowly and carefully "– chimaera eggs at one point. I should coco. Nobody in their right mind wants a ... one of those things. Not even Nathan bloody Arkwright, far as I know. Though I wouldn't be supissed ... surprised. He was never right in the head either."

"Nathan who?" said Tonks. She was sure she knew the name, but couldn't remember where from. Another few of these, and I won't remember my own name, she thought hazily.

"Cartwright. No, Arkwright. Er, I think. Sorry. One or the other. Had a private zoo, you see. Got his fingers burnt."

"You busted him, you mean?" asked Chesney.

Will giggled. "Nah. His pet busted out. Dragon. Put it in this rubbish cage, it melted the bars and got loose. Nearly ate him. Good riddance if it had. Silly sod."

"You did charge him though?" said Rhiannon. Her face had a puzzled expression, as if she could almost remember something important, but not quite.

"Yeah, we charged him." He grinned vacantly. "Beauty of a case that, Depar ... dep ... er, legend where I work. The boys went round to look, it scared the crap out of them. Bloody great monsters, shoddy little cages, a bunny rabbit could have bitten through them I reckon. Swore the bloke who sold 'em said they were top-rated stuff, he did. Swore at our blokes a lot too, when we took his pets away. Swore he'd get back at everybody who'd crossed him as well. Never did though. All mouth and no wand. Daft sod."

Rhiannon exchanged a bleary glance with Tonks, who dimly understood it to mean that all this had come up in her case somewhere, and that Poppleford had just said something that might potentially be interesting to her. She sighed, pulled out her wand, and pointed it unsteadily at her head: "Nil temulentum." It helped a little – but only a little. The major problem with the Sobriety Spell was that casting it effectively required that you be sober enough to concentrate on what you were doing, which rather defeated the object.

She closed her eyes for a moment to think, then came to with a start a few seconds later, realising that she must have nodded off briefly. She grabbed a napkin and quill and tried to focus long enough to write down what Will had just said, but the details were already slipping through her mind, as if she were trying to carry water in her hands.

Oh sod it. She glanced at the clock on the wall; Only half past ten? Not too late. With a bit of luck, he should still be up. She surreptitiously slid round on the chair and pulled out her mirror phone, murmuring into it the name "Cassius Smethwyck." To her considerable relief, after a few seconds the mirror opened out to show Cassius, whose eyebrows shot up as he saw who it was.

"Tonks?" he said uncertainly.

"Listen mate," she said rapidly. "I'm almost out of it, don't know if I'll remember this tomorrow. Make a note to look up that Arkwright bloke, yeah? The zoo one? Just heard some gossip. Sounds like he made some –" she took a deep breath and finished carefully "– some threats towards old Ashface or whatever his name is. Make a note, yeah?"

"Oh, all right." He looked at her with amusement. "Having a good evening, then?"

"Terrific. See you, mate." She pushed the off button, and pressed her fingers to her temples for a moment, swaying slightly.

"Rosmerta my love! Same again over here, please!" As Chesney's voice called out for another round, Tonks groaned and let her head sink into her hands; then with a sigh, decided to simply abandon the idea of trying to do any actual investigative work tonight.

It just wasn't going to happen.

-----

Monday August 17th 1994

Going into work on Monday morning was actually a relief for Tonks after a quiet Sunday, the first part of which had been spent fighting down nausea and avoiding bright lights. She'd also avoided her mirror, which tended to make tut-tutting remarks like "look at the state of you!" on these occasions. On the other hand, she was pleased that she'd somehow managed to make it back to her own flat. (That had been easier said than done; she had a confused recollection of dropping off a semi-conscious Rhiannon at the house of a highly amused O'Gregan.)

Kingsley Shacklebolt was leaving the office as she came in, and nodded to her politely, albeit thoughtfully, as he passed by. She strolled over towards her desk and then stopped dead, looking back over her shoulder: hang on, since when did he stop looking down his nose at me? She gazed after him, feeling wary; she wasn't sure if Shacklebolt being polite to her was a good or a bad sign. With any luck it was the former. Maybe Cassius has had a word with him?

The partner in question arrived shortly afterwards and Tonks gave him an embarrassed little smile. "Er, hi, mate," she said tentatively. "About Saturday night, I'm not quite sure what I said when I called you, but, ..."

"I rather gathered that," he replied amiably. "Where were you calling from?"

"Er ..." That was a good question. "Must have been ... the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade? Please don't ask me how we got up there. I'm a bit hazy about anything that happened by that point."

"I won't," he said, inspecting her carefully. He continued in a worried voice. "But you know, if you were in a public place like that, you shouldn't have been shouting confidential information over the mirror phones to me where anyone could have heard."

She gaped at him. "W – what did I say?"

He gave her a very serious look. "Well, you weren't especially complimentary about our esteemed leader Mr Rufus Scrimgeour; I think the phrase you used was something like 'officious hairy old git with a face like a Hippogriff's backside'. And you really shouldn't have been discussing what you heard at the Toad in public. Even if the chap in question wasn't likely to be there, a friend of his might have been. And you said something about what was under Montgomery Hallendale's robes that frankly, I don't like to repeat."

Tonks paled and made an odd squeaky noise. "But ... I ... I only rung you for a minute? I don't remember saying all that!"

His eyebrows rose. "You don't remember ringing me back later either, then?"

"I did?"

"Around quarter to midnight. I think it was just about chucking-out time. It certainly sounded as if there were a lot of people about." He looked at her sternly. "You mean to say you don't remember anything about this?"

"No." Tonks buried her head in her hands on her desk, and whimpered in something close to panic. "Oh, Merlin. How could I have been so stupid? I don't believe I did that!"

"Well, that's good," he said, deadpan, "because of course I was making it all up."

She froze, then looked up at a grinning Cassius. "You were WHAT?"

"Got you," he said sitting back in his chair and chuckling. "Hook, line, and sinker. You're not the only one round here who can tell the tale, you know ..."

"You git." She looked at him in anger for a moment, then caught his mood and started to laugh too. "You complete git. Did I ever tell you you're an evil, lying, no-good toe-rag who shouldn't be allowed to corrupt poor innocent young Aurors?"

"I am? Thank you."

She shook her head and looked at him in wonderment. "OK, mate, you really got me there. How did you manage to keep such a straight face?"

"It's much easier to tease people when they don't see it coming. Serves you right for being out of your tree." He said this deadpan too, and then they both started to giggle helplessly.

"Such hilarity in the office, now?" said someone from behind them in an Irish accent. "I suppose you're all recovered then? You were really in the numbs Saturday night. Leading my young lady into bad habits, so you were."

Tonks swallowed the last giggle and turned. "Hi, Don. Hi, Arnie. And I didn't! She started it."

"Now, that's mature of you." O'Gregan grabbed a couple of chairs from nearby cubicles for himself and Cornworthy. "Right then, Cassius here tells me you may have some suspects for us? We're all ears."

Cassius briefly outlined what they'd discovered about the Blackstocks, and handed out duplicated copies of the information that he'd prepared. The other Aurors glanced at each other, but forbore to comment immediately.

"Most interesting, Cassius old mate," said O'Gregan with a whistle when he'd finished. "So our young honey is a real person then? And her daddy's on Ellie's little list? Do we have any idea what she might have been doing so far from home that night? Does she go to the Toad often?"

Tonks was glancing through the sheets of parchment for the section concerning Portia Blackstock. The immediately obvious problem was that there just wasn't very much information about her on file. As far as the records went, she was simply a girl from a wealthy family who spent most of her time on the wizarding social circuit, no more and no less. There were certainly no reported sightings of her in dodgy London pubs.

She cursed and threw the sheets on to her desk. "Not according to this. Doesn't the wretched girl do anything but go to parties and give herself beauty treatments?"

Cornworthy looked up with amusement. "Well, you can't deny they seem to work, Tonks."

"Yeah, but what a boring life!" Seeing the raised eyebrows of the others, she blushed and amplified her comment. "I mean, come on, I love a good time – er, obviously – but I want to do other things with my life as well! This job, for a start."

Cassius held up his hands. "No argument from me. Just a moment," he said, looking at his notes again, "she's only a couple of years younger than you are. Do you remember her from school?"

Tonks shrugged. "Don't think so. You don't really pay much attention to younger students at that age, do you? Not even the ones in your own house, most of the time."

"I did," said Cassius. "Different era, though. I suppose as a prefect, I had to. You can't remember anything about her?"

Tonks racked her brains to try and dredge up any memories of Portia Blackstock. "Not that I'm sure of," she said eventually, with some hesitation. "Now I think about it, though, I do remember a group of girls who used to doll themselves up and make eyes at the older boys. One of them was a blonde who might have been her." She sniggered. "If she's the one I'm thinking of, she seemed more interested in the makeup than the boys back then, although she's definitely ... um, filled out since. I can't remember seeing her at the Chess Club or the Potions Guild or anything like that. She doesn't sound like the type, really, does she? And she can't have been a troublemaker, or people would have known her by reputation."

"Well, anyway," said O'Gregan impatiently, "does it matter if she was a good girl when she was at school? Looks like she isn't now. Why don't we just bring her in for an interview and give her the treatment?"

Cassius coughed. "Did you read the bit about her father, Donnacha?"

"No. What about him?"

Cassius tapped the parchment to indicate where he should look. "It seems that he's been putting the contents of the family vault to good use to make friends and influence people," he explained. "He donates generously, and arranges a lot of special events – it turns out he's actually on the committee of the charity where I saw them at the dinner. According to this, he's on first-name terms with several members of the Wizengamot, including Senior Undersecretary Umbridge, and he even managed to persuade her to be the guest of honour at one of his dinners."

Tonks winced. Sounds like some other people I know. O'Gregan looked at him with disgust. "Are you saying we can't go near her because the bloody Wizened Lot wouldn't like it?"

He shrugged. "No – but I would say we need to be cautious. I don't like it any more than you do, Donnacha, but it's always been a fact of life, hasn't it? We simply have to tread carefully with people who have friends in high places. If we bring them in and interrogate them and then find that we can't get anything out of them immediately, we could have the investigation snuffed out before you can say Nox. And we certainly can't hope to get a warrant for coercive methods without something concrete."

"We've got an eyewitness," said Tonks. "How much more concrete can you get?"

Cassius smiled sadly. "Those Muggle movies you watched with your father must have confused you, Tonks. Even they recognise that identification evidence can be highly unreliable – and let's face it, in our world, there are far too many possible ways to fake it. At least, that's the official legal view of things." Tonks resolved once again to look up her wizarding law textbooks. "Of course in practice it's often solid evidence, but we need something more for someone with connections. A motive, for example, or at least a link between her and Ashford. Oh yes, and our eyewitness was not only under Veritaserum when he told us about it, but claiming mind control as a defence," he said as an afterthought. "That adds another couple of layers of potential challenge."

"But what if she tries again?" said O'Gregan irritably. "We can't just let her keep taking pot-shots at Ashford until she gets lucky, can we?"

"Actually, Don," put in Cornworthy deprecatingly, "it probably isn't that urgent. Ashford has been very careful since it happened, hasn't he?"

"Well yes, he's not stupid," snorted O'Gregan. "He mostly works from home now, he's hired a couple of bodyguards – good fellows, ex-Law Enforcement Patrol – and he definitely doesn't go strolling over the Common late at night."

"And that was quite an elaborate scheme to come up with," pressed Cornworthy. "It must have taken a while to set up. I wouldn't bet on them having worked out a Plan B yet."

"I suppose so," he said, slightly mollified.

"And if she's got any sense she won't be trying again for a while, will she?" pointed out Tonks. "She must know that we've got a witness, and that she's bound to be under suspicion sooner or later. OK, we don't know what she had against him, but the way this was set up it doesn't look like she – oh, all right Cassius, whoever – was willing to take a lot of risks."

"I dunno, Tonks," said the Irishman. "That's been worrying me. Suppose it was her and not some impersonator. She was running the risk of being seen with Farley. I suppose she may have been betting on them not knowing her at the Toad, and not wanting to tell us if they did ..."

"Yeah, but if she's smart enough to plan all this," persisted Tonks, "maybe she realised that even if she was spotted with him, her family connections would keep the heat off her long enough to hide any other evidence there might be – you know, find who sold her the potion and Obliviate them, if she hasn't done that already?"

Her colleague looked unconvinced, and Tonks continued thinking out loud: "There was a whole day between the time she was seen with Farley and the attack, right? It must have been timed to happen so there wasn't too much time left in the effect span of the potion. So there was only a narrow window where she'd be taking a risk – after Farley came out of it, she would have been perfectly safe, because he wouldn't remember what happened, couldn't prove he'd been under the influence of Jacmel even if we worked it out, and he's not a particularly credible witness anyway. And we still don't know the connection between her and Ashford, and I'll bet it's not obvious. There's a lot of things to link up before we can ever pin anything on her, yeah?"

O'Gregan spread his hands. "All right, all right. We're just guessing here. We need more information. Like Cassius said, we don't have a motive either."

"Who's the other possible you wanted to tell us about?" asked Cornworthy.

"Eh? Oh, that Arkwright bloke, but sorry, Arnie, I haven't had time to go into that," said Tonks apologetically.

"Actually ..." put in Cassius with a pleased look, as the others turned to him, "I took your hint from Saturday night, and had a word with a friend of mine in the Magical Creatures department. Apparently the case is common gossip over there. When Arkwright lost that zoo of his, he certainly swore vengeance on the people he felt were responsible."

"Why didn't that show up in the records when we searched?" asked Tonks indignantly.

"Because it's an internal report of their Department. We'd have needed to put in an interdepartmental request, and we didn't bother. They just never took him seriously enough to note it in the general records."

"Idiots," said O'Gregan with a snort. "Do you mean he thought Ashford was at fault?"

"Well, he did sell him the cages. By the sound of it, Ashford must have claimed they were better than they were. They weren't nearly as strong as they needed to be for the kinds of things Arkwright was trying to keep in them. Most of them were starting to come unstuck, and apparently, given another month or two, we could have had a major problem on our hands. The way my friend described it was 'would have made the Ilfracombe Incident look like a case of failing to dock a Crup's tail'."

Tonks winced. "Serves him right then."

"You're correct, of course, but he didn't see it that way. He looked on it as those nasty Ministry people taking his 'pets' away. My friend said they looked on it as preventing a few dozen people being eaten, and a cataclysmic breach of the Statute of Secrecy. He was lucky to stay out of Azkaban – connections again, Donnacha, I'm afraid."

"Bah!"

"Exactly. Anyway, you can imagine he might have a grudge against Ashford."

"Were those connections the same ones as Blackstock?" asked Cornworthy shrewdly. "Mutual friends?"

Cassius looked taken aback. "I hadn't thought to ask," he said. "We'll have to inquire."

"Right, Cassius," said O'Gregan firmly. "What are we going to do? Anything? I've got a week off from Saturday for the World Cup, remember, so we need to get something going before then."

"So have I," pointed out Tonks. "Well, OK, technically I'm on secondment to the security team, but at any rate I'm away from the office for a while."

"Me too," added Cassius. He added, in response to their surprised looks, "Donnacha's not the only one who's got tickets for the Final, you know."

They all looked at Cornworthy, who looked back dolefully. "Well, I haven't, and I'm not doing security, so I suppose it's down to me to keep the cauldron boiling," he said. "Perhaps we should just arrange to have them shadowed and see if they go anywhere we wouldn't expect? There must be a few spare Patrol people we can call on to help out."

"That'll do for the time being," agreed O'Gregan. "Arkwright doesn't go out much any more, and I imagine the Blackstocks will be going to the Final themselves if they're so keen to make a good social impression." He looked at the others for confirmation.

"Deal," said Tonks, and Cassius nodded. O'Gregan clapped his hands.

"Well, that's settled then. We'll sort it out and let you know what's happening. Anyway, if it pans out for young Tonks here tonight, we may learn a lot from that. Do you think the fellow is going to tell us anything?"

They turned to Tonks, who shrugged, feeling a touch of nerves. "I don't know. Even if he is selling the stuff, I don't suppose people tell him what they want to do with it – well, apart from Beatrice Easton, that is, but I don't really think she's got the makings of a criminal mastermind. In fact, from his point of view, he could just be planning to make a quick profit by selling her some rubbish, and spinning her a yarn about it being this wonderful mind control potion. She couldn't exactly complain to Magical Trading Standards, could she?"

"No. So we might solve your case tonight and not ours."

Tonks nodded. "Sorry, Don."

"Ah well. It's still our best chance of a quick result. And we can see how he likes being fed mind-affecting potions."

"I don't like the idea of handing over 150 Galleons to him, to be honest, but I suppose if it gets that far we can arrest him straight after and take it back."

O'Gregan chuckled. "Trust in the Emerald Isle, my dear Nymphadora." At her bemused look, he explained, "They'll give you leprechaun gold for this sort of situation, just in case it gets out of control. Vanishes a few hours later, more's the pity."

"Oh right." She brightened. "Listen, we may need some backup, yeah? Could you two be available if we need you? Link you in to a couple of those Panic Buttons?"

"No worries," said O'Gregan airily, waving a hand. "I'm sure you can cope, now, but we'd be glad to help you out if the boy tries to get rough. One good turn deserves another."

"Great." She turned to Cassius. "Partner – let's work on our plan."

-----

At quarter to nine that evening Tonks had changed into Beatrice Easton's appearance, dressed in her clothes, and was stepping through the door of the Transfigured Toad again – for what she sincerely hoped would be the last time for a while. Cassius had gone on ahead, and was waiting in the pub in case Tonks needed immediate backup. O'Gregan and Cornworthy had gone home, but could Apparate to her aid at a moment's notice if necessary.

Tonks acquired another goblet of Beatrice's favourite juice concoction from the barman, and took a seat well away from Cassius, who was nursing a beer (to the scorn of some people at nearby tables). She examined her surroundings, nerves jangling – she felt as edgy as she'd ever been since starting the job. The pub was full tonight, and between the dim light and the haze of tobacco smoke, it was difficult to make faces out. It struck her that this must have been what it was like on the night Farley went to the going-away do for – Wells, wasn't it? – and got more than he'd bargained for. Looking around, she could see that anonymity could easily be possible here. So there, Don.

She tensed as an unshaven man in baggy robes, who appeared to have already had too much to drink, sat down next to her.

"Hey, beautiful, haven't seen you in here before," he said with a leer (a remark which confirmed for Tonks that he'd definitely had too much to drink, given Beatrice's somewhat nondescript looks).

She drew herself up to her full height, as far as that was possible while sitting, and looked away haughtily, all the while cursing her luck. The last thing she wanted at this point was to draw attention to herself, with the risk of having to behave out of character.

"Ooh, hoity-toity," he said, scowling. "Bit too low class for the Ministry Miss, eh? Me not quite what you had in mind when you came in slumming it?"

"I'm waiting for someone," she said shortly.

"Aren't we all, dear." He chortled at his own joke and breathed stale Firewhisky fumes over her; Tonks gritted her teeth and bit off a most un-Easton-like remark. Fortunately, no-one seemed to be looking their way yet (except a mildly concerned Cassius, watching them out of the corner of his eye). She breathed a silent sigh of relief and wondered idly if she could somehow Stun him without it being obvious. She almost missed seeing the door swing open, and when she looked up was actually relieved to see her contact.

He strolled over to her at a brisk pace and said, in the mocking tone that he seemed to use routinely, "Well, well, picked someone up already, have you? Are you sure you need my help?"

"Yes, quite sure," said Tonks, getting up from the table in haste. He still wore a scarf, she noticed. With a bit of luck, we'll find out who you really are tonight, mate, she thought unkindly as she followed him to an alcove.

She sat across from him and studied of the parts of his face not covered by the scarf, taking careful note of the bone structure and the shape and colour of the eyes. Inwardly, she felt disappointed; she couldn't see much of his features, although she felt sure that it was the same man she'd met before. If Cassius was right about the weakness of identification evidence, though, that probably wouldn't sound convincing to the court.

"Well then," he said affably. "I take it we still have a deal?"

"Yes," said Tonks. Remembering to sound nervous – well, even more nervous than she actually was – she said carefully, "Er, this ... this potion I'm buying gives complete control of someone, correct?" For the record, mate. Just so I can swear at trial that you knew exactly what you were selling.

"Oh it does, it does," he said with merriment. "But more importantly – do you have the money?"

"Yes," said Tonks hesitantly. "Can ... can I see it first?"

"Certainly." He reached into his robes and brought out a bottle of a pale yellowish liquid that unquestionably fitted the description of Liquor of Jacmel. "This is what we agreed on, so now let me see the money?"

"OK. Yes. OK." She reached into her handbag slowly, making sure as she did so that her wand was accessible at a moment's notice in case he attempted to just take the money and go. It was up the sleeve of her robes, fixed in place in a holder originally intended for concealing wands while dressed in Muggle clothes (she'd been amused to note it was one of the inventions of Portia Blackstock's grandfather). She lifted out the bag of evanescent 'Galleons' and placed it on the table, where it made a satisfactory clink.

"Good." The man tipped the fake money onto the table and counted it quickly, stacking the coins in piles. It obviously came to the right total, because he smiled, swept them back into the bag, and looked at her. "Well, well. All here. Good!" He took the bottle and pushed it casually across the table at her. "Go on, take it then. You're paying for it. Got a problem with buying it or something?"

There was something about the way he said this that Tonks didn't like, She braced herself and cautiously picked up the bottle.

Nothing happened. With relief, she hid it away in her handbag and prepared to get up and leave. As soon as they were out of the pub, she could arrest him, create a Portkey, and be on the way back to the Ministry for what promised to be quite an enjoyable interrogation. She paused for a moment to take a good long look at the man across the table. Actually, it would be nice to get him to talk before they got him back to the holding cells … She had the strong impression that he might well just clam up and force them to wait for a Veritaserum warrant.

"Er, ... thank you," she said tentatively. "I hope I haven't taken your whole supply or anything."

"Oh, don't worry your little head about that," said the wizard cheerfully. "I should be restocking soon. Right, then, a little drink to seal the deal, I think!" Ignoring Tonks' yelp of protest, he tapped with his wand on the table; the alcove curtains slid open, and the landlord strolled over with a look of inquiry.

"Two glasses of that old Firewhisky I managed to, ah, obtain for you, Finley, I think," he said, winking at him. "My treat. This little lady and I have just completed a very satisfactory business arrangement."

"Certainly, sir." His lip curled, but he pointed his wand at the bar and Summoned a bottle and a couple of glasses, pouring out generous measures. Tonks watched this with concern, as she attempted to gauge her chances of arresting the wizard straight away while they were still in the pub. She didn't know much about tonight's patrons, but she was willing to bet that they included several people who would come to his assistance in any confrontation with an Auror. Well, an outnumbered one at any rate.

"I'm sorry, Mr, er ..." she said in a prim and hesitant manner, "but I never drink alcohol." Fortunately, Beatrice Easton actually didn't, which made this statement rather more believable.

"Oh, just this once won't hurt you, will it?" he said amiably. Tonks wasn't so sure. She had seen the bottle opened, but ... she didn't really want to be drinking large Firewhiskies in this place, especially in the character of a woman who would probably get completely plastered by a single shot of the stuff.

At this point, there was a welcome interruption as an argument broke out across the floor. Tonks glanced over to see what it was all about, and quickly realised that it might not be welcome after all.

"Well, if it isn't Mr Cassius Smethwyck," someone was saying in an aggressive manner, his voice loud enough to carry across the room. "What are you doing in here? Seeing the sights? Slumming it now you've retired?" With the use of that phrase, she recognised the voice as that of her erstwhile companion with the Firewhisky breath.

"Actually, I'm back in harness now, young man. Who might you be?" said Cassius equably. She could hear him speak too now, as the noise level in the pub had dropped dramatically as people paused their conversations to watch the potential confrontation. She took a moment to wonder at the description young man, but supposed that to Cassius, he probably was.

"Never you mind, Auror." The man snarled these words at him. The noise level dropped still further as a rather ugly silence developed. The landlord moved over towards Cassius' table in a casual stroll, but Tonks could see that his hand was gripped tightly around his wand.

"Good evening, gentlemen, do we have a problem here?" he said.

"You're letting some undesirables into your pub, Finley," said the man viciously. Tonks heard the wizard beside her make a disapproving noise. He was watching the scene through narrowed eyes.

"So, Mr ... Smethwyck, is it? Are you here on official business, then?" asked the landlord. Tonks could see Cassius hesitate for a moment. Of course he was, but there was no way he could admit to it.

"Just dropping by to have a drink and absorb the atmosphere, Mr McAllister," he said calmly. "I'm allowed to do that, I believe?"

The landlord's lip curled again. "Yeah, you are," he said. "As it happens, though, I'm allowed to chuck out anyone I think might cause trouble in my pub. Now I'm sure you're perfectly well-behaved, but unfortunately some of my other customers seem to take objection to you. I think you'd better leave."

Cassius sized him up, obviously trying to decide what his best move would be. Tonks was sure he wouldn't want to leave, but there wasn't much good he could do by staying now he'd been identified as an Auror. "Well, I'm sure I wouldn't wish to cause trouble," he replied in an even tone, getting up from his chair. "I'll take myself off – but of course, I'll always be around if anyone wishes to talk to me." Tonks, muttering under her breath, read that as a hint that he would attempt to lurk around outside somewhere should she need him when she came out, although at this point she was only listening with half her attention. She had no idea whether anyone would follow him out and try to start something, or what she could do about it if they did.

Her companion turned away abruptly from the scene around Cassius to see Tonks holding her glass in her lap, and touching the end of the poison detector from the 'knife' K had given her into the contents. She flushed as he sniggered at her. She put the drink back on the table and glanced at the end of the tester; it hadn't turned red.

"I actually didn't poison that drink, you know," he said with amusement as he caught her eye. "Drink up. You might like what it does, you know."

Tonks hesitated for a moment, then raised the glass to her lips and swallowed the contents in one, remembering to cough and splutter as if she hadn't done this recently. The wizard opposite did the same without the coughing and spluttering – he obviously had done this recently. She looked at him sharply while he did so, but he tucked the glass neatly under the scarf and it didn't move away from his face far enough for her to get a look at it. "Bottoms up," he said. "Well, it was nice meeting you, but I suppose we both have things to do now? After you."

Tonks left the alcove and, despite her nerves, headed towards the door at an even pace – but ready to take action at a moment's notice should there be any trouble. She'd be on her own for a few crucial moments if anybody was planning anything, regardless of Panic Buttons. She took great care to avoid tripping over anything this time. Fortunately, she made it to the door without incident, and let out her breath in relief.

She walked a little way down the street and then staggered slightly, leaning against a wall for support with one hand and flapping the other. She shook her head a few times, putting her hands to her temples as if suffering from another hangover, and then stood there waiting until an arm took hers and led her away down the street.. She turned and stared at her companion with an unfocused look. It was the wizard she'd just met in the pub.

"Well, now, Mrs Easton – or Little Miss Clumsy, or whoever it is you really are," he said conversationally, but with a slightly threatening undercurrent, "perhaps we should take a little walk? Those little poison testers are quite handy, but they don't react to things that aren't poisons. Like the stuff in that special bottle of Firewhisky I told Finley to serve if I asked him to. I reckon it should be starting to work round about now. Let's go this way, shall we?"

Tonks shuddered slightly, half-resisted the pull on her arm, but then continued to accompany him docilely as they strolled away down the street. Her eyes as she looked at him were glazed. He laughed at her, quietly but exuberantly, as they strolled arm-in-arm along Diagon Alley away from the pub.