10. The Theatre of Dreams
Saturday 22nd August 1994
Tonks stepped out of the tent and took a long, deep breath. It was early enough for the cool of the night to have not yet given way to the summer heat of the day, and it felt pleasantly fresh. Most of the campers had yet to stir, so she just let herself enjoy the moment. It was a rare pleasure; she wasn't usually up this early, but she'd been so tired the previous evening she'd collapsed into bed as soon as the tent was up, and slept for a solid eight hours.
It had been a huge relief to pack her bags and take a Portkey to the World Cup site after the frustrations of the previous week. Tonks hoped she could relegate considerations of Auror work to the background for the next few days and simply appreciate the atmosphere – although she'd brought her case notes along, and fully intended to take any chance to cast an eye over their suspects that might present itself.
That thought reminded her of Ballantyne, who had left them all thoroughly exasperated. Several times, he had seemingly been on the point of telling what he knew, but in the end had stuck to his original story. There had been little they could do but charge him with assault and let him go.
He had paid over a one hundred Galleon good behaviour surety – a sum raised with surprising speed – and immediately returned to Brighton. Fortunately, the conditions of the surety included a requirement that he wear an anti-Disapparation bracelet at all times, and notify the authorities of any Floo journeys he planned to make (and even if he didn't, the Floo Network Office were keeping an eye on the use of his fire). In addition, spells had been cast around his house to allow the Ministry to watch for arriving visitors. Cornworthy was yet to alert the rest of the team, so presumably there hadn't been any worthy of note.
A rustle from the tents told her that the rest of the team were stirring. Chesney Thompson poked his head out of the flap and grinned blearily.
"Up early, aren't you, Tonks? Putting us all to shame then?" A series of groans and coughs from inside the tent indicated that Will Poppleford was slowly returning to consciousness.
Tonks grinned back. "Of course, Ches. We Aurors are professionals. We don't laze around in bed at the weekend when there's work to be done."
Chesney looked sceptical. "So where's Rhiannon, then?"
"Er, team leader's privilege, I suppose, to stay in bed when her team are ready to go!" She raised her voice slightly for the last few words, and was rewarded with a series of muffled curses from within the tent. She ducked back under the flap into the small kitchen; Rhiannon Davies had made her way to the bedroom door, and was giving her fellow team member a death glare. Tonks smiled at her beatifically. "Oh good, you're up."
Davies made an indeterminate sound and waved her wand in the general direction of the bread-bin; several slices flew out and landed neatly in the toaster. She started the kettle with another jab, and asked, "What time is it?"
"About quarter past six. What time do we start our first shift?"
"Seven. Ugh."
"Right," said Tonks brightly. She was usually the one trying to prise her eyelids apart in situations like these, and was determined to be as infuriating as possible. "Well, you'd better get ready then. Wouldn't want to be late, would we?"
"No, we wouldn't, would we? Tonks?"
"Yes?"
"You're fired."
-----
It took an hour or two after the start of their shift for the campsite to really come to life. Most of the people at their end held cheap tickets and had been here for a couple of weeks already, and quite an atmosphere of camaraderie had built up between them. Even the Irish and Bulgarians seemed to be getting along with no more than friendly rivalry, possibly because the former outnumbered the latter by about six to one.
Tonks and Chesney wandered slowly between the tents, occasionally stopping to issue warnings to people using wands, or employing any other kind of magical apparatus that would be hard to explain away as the latest Japanese electronic gizmo if the Muggle campsite owners saw it. Most people seemed to have got the hang of things by now, and although a few kettles were boiling on campfires with suspiciously regular flames, there was nothing grossly out of the ordinary at their end of the site.
They couldn't really say the same of the more exclusive end. There were several outlandish variations on the tent theme among the more recent arrivals. Chesney seemed quite impressed, although Tonks privately thought that many of them crossed the line between ornate and tacky. One splendid example gave the appearance of being constructed entirely from white marble with gold trimmings on the curlicues.
"Now why can't the Ministry give us something like that, eh, Tonks?" asked Chesney jokingly as they passed by. "You'd think we'd rate a few perks on the job, wouldn't you?"
She was saved from the need to answer by an astounded voice from behind them. "Tonks, was that? Well, well, if it isn't my dear cousin."
They spun round to see a teenage boy with pale, pointed features staring at them. His concessions to Muggle clothing had gone only as far as trousers and a very robe-like jacket, together with a scarf in the Bulgarian colours. "I never expected to run into you," he said, with an unpleasant sneer. "Especially not here. How on earth did you get tickets? Win the competition in the Daily Prophet, did you?"
"Cousin Draco, I presume?" asked Tonks through gritted teeth. She definitely hadn't expected to meet her young relative here and wasn't impressed by this sight of him. Chesney's eyebrows rose as he looked between them. "So nice to meet you too. Do give my love to my dear aunt and uncle, won't you?"
Draco's lip curled. "Oh, I will," he said, looking them up and down. "They're always glad to hear what the poor relations are up to these days." A faint look of realisation crossed his face as he took in the badges on their clothes. "Oh, I see, security. I should have realised you wouldn't be able to afford tickets."
"I suppose you've got seats in the Top Box, then?" said Tonks sarcastically. It was a good line, but unfortunately her young cousin had an even better comeback available.
"Well yes, as a matter of fact we have," he said, looking smug. "Special guests of the Minister himself. He's a very good friend of my father, you know." His smirk widened as her face fell in disbelief, and there was a hint of challenge in his stare. "I heard Father mention you'd gone into law enforcement. I presume he didn't like to say you were just a guard dog. It's not really something you want people to associate with you, however distantly, is it? Still, one has to be charitable. I suppose it must be the best you can expect on your side of the family."
"What, you mean the decent side?" snapped Tonks.
Draco smiled. "Oh, I struck a nerve, did I? I'm so sorry." He didn't look it. His eyes flicked to Tonks' hair, which was bright green and shoulder length today. "New hairstyle specially for the occasion? Up the Irish? You probably go around changing it all the time, don't you? Helps you save on hairdressing bills, I suppose."
There was an underlying hint of something in his tone that Tonks couldn't quite place. She hoped it meant he knew of her talents and found them slightly alarming, or was at least impressed despite himself – although it was probably scorn. Whatever it was, she didn't particularly want to discuss it in front of Chesney. "Whereas you just like to show off what flash gits you are and swank around in your little private palace? I'm surprised you even deigned to spend time here camping with us mere serfs."
The boy seemed unfazed by this. "Oh, Father had some people to see," he said, smirking again. "We had to provide them with somewhere civilised to meet, didn't we?" He hesitated for a moment with an uncertain look, as if he'd said more than he'd meant; then his eyes narrowed and he added, with studied insult, "It's a pity my aunt Andromeda chose to stray away from respectability; she comes from such a good family. It must be awful having a Mudblood for a father."
Tonks whitened, and next to her Chesney made a disgusted noise. "Yeah?" she said. "Much better than having a complete creep as a father. Miss those glory days when he was You-Know-Who's catamite, does he?"
This time, she definitely had the better of the exchange. Chesney looked startled, but forbore to comment. Draco Malfoy's face, however, turned pink – or at any rate slightly less colourless, which seemed to be the nearest he ever came to flushing.
"Don't you dare insult my father, Little Miss I-Don't-Even-Know-Who-I-Really-Am," he spat. "He's worth ten of you. Well actually no, he's worth much more than that; I suppose ten times nothing is still nothing, isn't it?"
"Can't you just arrest him for something?" put in Chesney, who had been looking at the boy with mounting dislike. "There must be some perks to being an Auror, surely?"
"An Auror?" Draco Malfoy looked thoroughly disconcerted for a moment, but recovered himself quickly enough to sneer again. "Well, well. I understand they're getting desperate for people to do the job now. Expecting trouble?"
"I hope not," snarled Tonks. You really are an irritating little snot-rag, aren't you, cousin?
"And if there is," added Chesney unexpectedly, "and I even think you have anything to do with it, you'll be spending the night in a nice Ministry cell instead of your comfy bed. So don't you put so much as a toe out of place, little boy, because if you do, you'll wish you'd volunteered to clean out a dragon cage instead."
Tonks grinned at her cousin, who seemed to be struggling to find a good comeback to this sudden outburst, and nodded to her partner. "Couldn't have put that any better myself," she said. "Well, we can't hang around holding family reunions all day, can we? Some of us have worthwhile things to do. Good morning to you, coz." She turned away sharply before Draco could think of anything effective to say in response.
-----
"Is he really your cousin?" asked Chesney as they strolled away.
Tonks scowled. "I'm afraid so. My mother's sister's boy. From the pure-blood side of the family, as you can tell. Please don't tell me you care about that, Ches, or I might just have to hex you."
Chesney laughed. "Doesn't really matter to me – but the rabid purists who have a wand up their backsides about it are just plain irritating. And if you don't mind me saying so, your cousin is a real little creep. I'm sure I've used things less slimy than him in potions."
"Mind? Say it as much as you like, it can't be worse than I thought about him – and his wonderful father, Lucius Oh-No-I-Was-Never-A-Death-Eater-How-Could-Anyone-Even-Think-Such-A-Thing Malfoy." She paused to take a much needed breath.
Chesney shivered at the suggestion of a Death Eater connection, but let it pass. "How do you put up with them?" he asked curiously. "And what was that 'not knowing who you are' stuff about?"
"Oh that," said Tonks evasively. She wasn't quite sure why, but she didn't want to discuss her Metamorphmagus abilities with Chesney at this point. "Pure-blood heritage stuff, probably. Anyway, I don't usually have to put up with that lot. We've only ever met a few times in passing."
"Riiight. Fair enough, then."
Tonks looked at him with amusement. "So where did that little 'I'll lock you up and throw away the key' speech come from, anyway?"
"Oh, that." He looked embarrassed. "Just felt like putting the wind up him a bit. He was being so annoying. Did I exceed my authority by threatening him?"
"Probably." She grinned at him. "Ches, mate, I think you just made honorary Auror."
-----
The rest of the day and evening passed without events of note – Tonks managed to steer Chesney towards the Ashford cousins' tent, but unfortunately they weren't there. Team 14 was on first patrol again the following morning, and despite their grumbles, Rhiannon ordered them to retire early . It wasn't until Tonks was curled up in bed reading that she noticed her team leader hadn't even got undressed yet. In response to Tonks' raised eyebrows in inquiry, she said in a rather shifty manner, "Right, I think I'll just do one more patrol before I turn in."
Tonks smiled to herself. For an Auror, Rhiannon was being remarkably transparent. "Oh, there's no need," she said innocently. "The teams on night duty can do that. You just get some rest before morning."
"Er, no, I really should, team leader and all that ..."
"Don't knock yourself out, girl! Let somebody else do a bit of the work for a change."
"But ..."
Tonks took pity on her. "Oh shut up, you idiot. Go and see Don if you want. I won't tell on you."
"Oh!" Rhiannon's face was almost comically crestfallen. "Was I being that obvious?"
Tonks grinned. "Honestly? Yes. But don't mind me, it's quite sweet really. Sickeningly so, in fact. You've only been separated from him one bloody night, after all, and you're missing him already."
Rhiannon blushed slightly. "I suppose I am." Plaintively, she added, "You make me sound like a hopeless schoolgirl."
"If the hat fits ... how long have you two been together, anyway?"
"Five years," said Rhiannon, with a slightly defensive air.
"Five years?" Tonks gazed at her friend with wide eyes. "By rights, aren't you're supposed to be happily ignoring each other most of the time by now? But you're still gooey-eyed over him, aren't you? However much you pretend you aren't when you tease him in company."
Rhiannon made a face at her. "Yes, I suppose so. Must be the cute Irish accent or something. Pathetic, isn't it?"
"Oh, I don't know. As I said, it's quite sweet." Tonks looked at her curiously. "Why don't you two just get married and have done with it? Risks of the job make your nervous or something?"
"You're forgetting, he already has a wife, Tonks."
"Well, one word: divorce." An uncomfortable thought struck her. "Or do you think he's just happy stringing you along? As long as he's married, he can't get married sort of thing?"
Rhiannon snorted. "Oh, more than you know, dear." She shook her head at Tonks' raised eyebrows, conveying a clear message of I don't want to talk about it. "Anyway, I'd better be off. Chuck me the badge over, would you? I suppose I should look official."
Tonks leant over to pick up the security ID badge from Rhiannon's bedside table, and as she did so, the book she was reading fell to the floor. Rhiannon caught sight of the title, moved over quickly with a delighted grin, and grabbed it.
"And you call me gooey-eyed!" she crowed. "Honestly, Tonks, I never thought you'd be the sort to read this stuff." In a dramatic manner, she read out, "The Heart's Plenty; a tale of a witch and a wizard. And another wizard. And another wizard. Star-crossed lovers abound as beautiful young sorceress Esmeralda LeBaudellin learns about love, passion and magic in the court of Louis XIV, and ..."
"... an Auror goes barking mad?" interrupted Tonks firmly. "That's my case notes, you twit. I borrowed the book from my mum and copy-charmed them into it."
"Oh yeah?" said Rhiannon, smirking, and opened the book at random. "Let's have a look at what you're working on, then. Her heart swelled inexplicably as he pulled her against his taut manly body and began to passionately kiss the exposed curve of her breast. She melted into his arms as his fingers explored her curves and the rest of the world seemed to fade away ... Wow, why don't I ever get cases like that?"
Tonks sighed, leant over and tapped the book with her wand. The lurid adventures of Esmeralda LeBaudellin immediately vanished, to reveal a decidedly prosaic transcript of the first interview with Sylvester Ballantyne. "I charmed it so only I could read it, Rhiannon! I wasn't going to leave those notes lying around where anyone could read them, was I? I'm in Scrimgeour's bad books as it is. Happy now?"
"Oh," said Rhiannon, pretending to pout. "You're spoiling all my fun tonight."
Tonks chuckled evilly. "Not all of it. Unless of course I wait half an hour or so, call you up on the mirror phone and interrupt something ..."
Rhiannon snorted. "You'd better not ring me for anything short of a real emergency, Nymphadora, not unless you like the idea of spending the next week as a dung beetle. Agreed?"
"Auror's honour."
"Hmmm." She gathered her robes, pinned the badge on them haphazardly, and walked out, pausing at the door to grin. "I'll leave you with your case notes, then, although I'm convinced you'll turn them straight back into The Heart's Plenty when I'm gone. Shocking."
Tonks grinned at her. "You're shocked by this? Lucky I didn't use my well-thumbed copy of Hunting Muggles for Pleasure and Profit, then. You'd never have looked at me the same way again."
"Hunting Muggles for ..." Rhiannon trailed off and looked at Tonks uncertainly. "You're kidding me, right?"
"Nope. It should be lying on my desk at this very moment unless someone's nicked it." She grinned again, but then took pity on her friend. "Actually, it's one of the lovely titles I picked up at that bookshop to keep them out of dangerous hands. I still haven't got my money back for them."
"They actually sell that sort of stuff?" said Rhiannon in alarm. "Shouldn't someone go round there and ask them what the hell they're playing at?"
"We did." Well, Cassius did. Not with much in the way of success, but at least we tried.
"Oh." Rhiannon's face cleared; she looked relieved not to have to worry about something new. "Well, I'll leave you to your bedtime reading then. Don't wait up."
"I won't. Don't wake me when you get back from your, er, patrolling." She winked at Rhiannon, who avoided her eyes as she left.
Tonks charmed the notes to look like a book from the outside again, then, reminded by the conversation she'd just had, flicked through them to Cassius' report of his recent interview with Trina Orevel. She sighed. It hadn't gone well.
Cassius had started by explaining politely that the Aurors had information that several very dubious characters had frequented her shop to buy Dark Arts volumes, and they would like to know what information, if any, Miss Orevel had about them, because ...
Miss Orevel had interrupted him and refused point blank to offer any information at all about her customers, citing their right to privacy.
Cassius had pointed out that these were dangerous people who had already been responsible for assorted murder attempts, assaults, and other serious crimes.
Miss Orevel had pointed out that she had no information at all about what her customers did after they left her shop, and had no right to act on mere vulgar speculation that they might be the same persons that the Aurors were interested in.
Cassius had pointed out that he had a very good description of at least one of these people and a woman he'd been seen talking to, who he had lured into buying highly illegal substances.
Miss Orevel had pointed out that appearances could be deceptive in numerous ways, and that you couldn't tell from the outward appearance what people were like.
Cassius had pointed out that she was placing herself in a very problematic position by selling Dark Arts works and refusing to take any steps to ensure they did not end up in dangerous hands.
Miss Orevel had pointed out that her primary desire was to provide a refuge for all rare wizarding knowledge, not just Dark Arts works, and that deciding whose hands were or were not dangerous was his job, not hers.
Cassius had pointed out that her shop had never been registered with the Ministry, and that she'd better be sure she hadn't committed any infractions of wizarding law as otherwise they might just have to bring charges against her.
Miss Orevel had pointed out that she didn't actually have to register her shop with the Ministry, she merely had to make sure she had adequate anti-Muggle security, and that Cassius was free to inspect it, or to go and dunk his head in a cauldron of boiling potion, as he chose.
Cassius had pointed out that he would be watching her closely and that she'd better not take a step out of line of she'd be in serious trouble.
Miss Orevel had pointed out that he was welcome to do so if that was what made him feel good, and that if he still wanted those old Quidditch yearbooks the price had just trebled to thirty Galleons apiece.
Tonks groaned and laid down the notes. She could see herself having to don her Little Mrs Anonymous disguise and go poking around in the bookshop again. Admittedly, when she'd visited the place she'd had a brief glimpse of how strongly Trina Orevel seemed to feel about her books, but she must really have been annoying if she could manage to get Cassius' goat like that.
She picked up her wand to douse the lights, and noticed her mirror phone next to it on the table. With a grin she picked it up.
"Rhiann ..."
Oh no, I promised I wouldn't call her, didn't I? Damn.
She stopped and thought for a moment.
I promised I wouldn't call her
With a wicked grin she spoke into it again. "Donnacha O'Gregan ..."
-----
Sunday 23rd August 1994
Tonks was up early again the following morning, although this time purely as a tactical measure – she wasn't entirely sure how Rhiannon Davies was going to react when she got up. She was sitting chatting to Chesney outside their tents when her partner stuck a tousled head through the flap and glared at her.
"Oh, hi Rhiannon," said Tonks in as innocent a voice as she could manage. "Ready to go then? I made some tea, it's in the pot."
Rhiannon gave her a look that was clearly intended to terrify, and might even have succeeded if she hadn't been half-asleep. "I don't care if you boiled the water in the Mystic Kettle of Nackledirk," she said tetchily. "You're just lucky I was too tired to jinx you when I got back."
"Long night, then?"
Rhiannon made a face at her. "Yes. Shut up." Her head popped back inside the tent.
"What was that all about?" asked Chesney, looking at her curiously.
Tonks grinned. Much as she'd enjoyed teasing her fellow Auror, she had no intention of giving her away to the other two. "Oh, nothing much. Team leaders are supposed to patrol the campsite before they turn in. Aren't you glad we're just foot soldiers?"
Chesney chuckled. "Ah, hard work. I love it. I could watch it for hours."
Rhiannon was still glaring at Tonks when they finally left the tents. Tonks hoped she really hadn't interrupted anything important, but shrugged it off as they went about the business of patrolling. There was, after all, a long Sunday ahead of them, and with any luck they'd be too tired to worry about it by evening.
She carefully avoided the Malfoy tent this time, although she did call in the World Cup Security HQ tent to check the seating arrangements for the Top Box, in the vague hope that her cousin had been lying through his teeth the day before. She gritted her own teeth when she found out he hadn't, although she was amused to note in passing that young Harry Potter was also listed among the VIPs, as a guest of Ludo Bagman. Probably wants to show him off to the Bulgarians bigwigs. I bet half of them were You-Know-Who sympathisers, and don't think Durmstrang teaches enough Dark Arts.
They otherwise followed much the same routine as the day before, stopping only to warn those campers who had left tent flaps open to reveal fitted kitchens inside, or enchanted fans to cool them down in an obviously magical manner. Tonks once more contrived to steer Chesney towards the Ashford nephew and nieces, and this time she was in luck. They were outside the tent enjoying the morning sunshine, sprawled on striped deckchairs that looked convincingly Muggle.
Tonks slowed as they approached. What she was hoping for was a chance to get an impression of the cousins before they found out who and what she was, but she wasn't quite sure how to manage that without arousing their suspicion. Perhaps I can pretend to be checking on some supposed breach of security regulations, or perhaps I could ...
"Ches? Hi! What are you doing here?"
... er, take advantage of the fact that one of them seems to know my partner?
"Charlie? Hiya! Long time, no see. And isn't it obvious what I'm doing here?" Chesney Thompson grinned and tapped his security badge.
"Oh, I see. Does that mean you get to see the match for free, then?"
"Er ... well, yeah, as a matter of fact."
"Lucky bugger. You always did seem to fall on your feet."
'Charlie?' Charlotte Perks, then, obviously. Tonks paused for a moment to cast her mind back over the descriptions in the files. Yes, dark hair, not too tall. About Chesney's age of course. They probably knew each other at Hogwarts? This definitely counted as a stroke of luck.
She snapped out of her reflections as Charlotte Perks waved a hand at her companions. "I think you probably met my cousins once or twice, Ches? Mickey and Abby." She grinned affectionately at the first-mentioned of these. "We were supposed to be a party of four when we booked, but we've got a ticket too many now. Mickey's legendary girlfriend seems to have turned out to be just that."
'Michael Ashford and partner, Abigail Ashford.' Right, I remember that. Mickey Ashford flushed and looked away, avoiding their eyes. "I told you she didn't like the idea of camping out here, Charlotte," he said emphatically. "We had a little … disagreement. I got the money back on the ticket, didn't I?"
"Sold it to a tout when she dumped you, you mean?" She suddenly realised she was talking in front of security staff, and clapped her hand over her mouth. "Oh, er, sorry, I meant ..."
Tonks pricked up her ears at the sound of a sudden opportunity. Come down hard or be friendly? Friendly, I think. Get them talking to me as well. "Don't worry about that, Miss, er, Charlie," she said affably, putting on her best cheerful smile. "They prefer surplus tickets to be put back in the general pool, but we keep a close watch on the resellers anyway to make sure they don't get out of hand." She crossed her fingers as she said that – she had no idea what the actual policy was. "Anyway, if you're a friend of Ches, I suppose we can stretch a point. Where did you meet?"
"School, of course. Same year, same house, most of the same classes, I even went on a date to Hogsmeade with him once, remember Ches?" Chesney winced, and she said gleefully, "Although he won't want me to tell you about it. Let's just say he's ... not really my type, it was an utter disaster and we settled for being friends after that. Right, love?"
"Too right." Chesney looked disconcerted, and Tonks made a mental note to ask him about it if she ever fancied a bit of harmless entertainment.
She smiled at the cousins as he kicked at a bit of grass. "That's the trouble with the wizarding world," she said. "Practically everyone in the country went to the same school, so anyone near your age knows all the embarrassing childhood stories about you." As they laughed, Tonks thought hard; she couldn't remember Charlotte Perks, or for that matter Chesney; even though their time at Hogwarts must surely have crossed hers. Then again, first- and second-years never paid much attention to N.E.W.T. students, and vice-versa.
"How's your uncle?" asked Chesney with the air of a man trying to change the subject. Tonks could have kissed him. Mackenzie Ashford was precisely the subject she wanted the conversation changed to. "Didn't you all live with him? Sold animals, didn't he?"
The cousins exchanged dark looks. "Well, he's doing fine, apart from the fact that someone tried to … to kill him," piped up Abby Ashford. "Didn't you know ... er, Chess? It was in the paper, I'm sure."
"Some nutter had a go at him as he crossed Clapham Common," explained Mickey in a rough voice. "Apparently he was very lucky to escape. An Auror was there and stopped the attack. He's OK now though."
"You're kidding?"
"Wish we were, Ches," said Charlotte Perks lightly. "I always knew the poor old dear would get himself in trouble without us to look after him."
"You used to live with him then?" Tonks picked up on this point with curiosity. She could vaguely remember this from the case notes, but as far as she could remember, O'Gregan hadn't gone into much detail.
"When we were at school, yes. We all moved out to make our Own Way In The World eventually." She pronounced this in a mocking voice that suggested capitalisation. "Even Mickey. Although he always did take his time before actually working, didn't you love?" Her cousin scowled at her. Tonks got the impression he'd been on the receiving end of this sort of comment a lot.
"Don't blame you mate," said Chesney. "Work's OK, but you don't want to do it for a living." The two men grinned at each other, recognising kindred spirits.
"Did your parents live there as well?" prodded Tonks. She remembered reading that their parents were all dead and that the three of them were Mackenzie Ashford's heirs. Unfortunately, the question caused the dark looks to return, and the apparent temperature dropped by about ten degrees.
"They were killed in the war," said Mickey shortly. He didn't seem inclined to elaborate. Tonks raised her eyebrows; the level of detail O'Gregan had put into his case background notes clearly left a lot to be desired. On reflection, she rather hoped she had interrupted something important for the lazy git last night.
"We were just kids," added Abby, so quietly Tonks could barely hear her. "We had nowhere else to go. I don't even know what ... what You-Know-Who's people wanted with my parents." Tonks grimaced and nodded. She sympathised, but at least this line of conversation was getting her the first-hand impressions she'd wanted. You're supposed to ask pointed questions, her teachers had told her. You're there to get information, not to commiserate, unless you think that will get them to talk.
"I know what they wanted with mine," said Charlotte Perks viciously. "They dropped in when Mum and Dad were visiting my gran and granddad. Kill the outspoken Mudblood and his parents! Send a message!" She let loose a string of expletives, applied to the Death Eaters so creatively that even the broadminded Tonks was taken aback. Chesney and her cousins didn't so much as bat an eyelid, however, presumably having had years to get used to it.
"I'm really sorry to hear that." This actually might be the time to commiserate "It must have been really horrible losing your parents like that. I can't even imagine what it would have been like." That wasn't actually true, as Tonks had had many such nightmares as a child ; but she didn't think it would be tactful to say so to people for whom the nightmares had come to pass.
"It was horrible," said Abby, her voice trembling slightly. "Uncle was ... was really very good about it. It's hard now ... now we don't get to see him much." Tonks made another mental note to look up the background details, and then berate O'Gregan for leaving them out of the reports. It certainly made Mackenzie Ashford seem a lot more human.
"You don't see him much?" said Chesney, again relieving Tonks of the necessity of asking the question herself. The boy was certainly saying all the right things today. "Why not?"
"Because he's locked himself away because of this maniac who tried to stab him," said Mickey shortly. "I suppose we can't blame him for being nervous, but ... well, we're family, aren't we?"
"See what you mean, mate," said Chesney. "Do they know why the bloke did it?"
Charlotte scowled. "Not that we know of." She turned to her cousin again. "Mickey, didn't you say you heard on the grapevine they think someone put him up to it?"
"That was the gossip. They ... er, cursed him or something?" He looked at Chesney appraisingly. "I suppose your friend here might know more than we would, he's in security. You work for the Law Enforcement Patrol then, mate?"
"Oh no, I'm just moonlighting," said Chesney cheerfully. "Tonks here is the one you want to talk to about that. She's an Auror." The cousins looked at her in a slightly shocked manner, and she sighed; Chesney's perfect average for saying the right thing had just taken a nosedive. She'd been hoping to avoid revealing her job, and this time she could have kicked him, especially as she couldn't quite remember how much information had been made public.
Ah, hang on, that's a thought. "Well, we're not really allowed to talk about cases that are under investigation, I'm afraid," she said smoothly. "Anyway, two of my colleagues were assigned to that case, not me."
"In other words, even if you did know anything you wouldn't tell the chief suspects what it was?" said Charlotte ironically. She directed a slightly malicious smile at Tonks, who realised that she must be looking embarrassed at this candid remark by ... well, one of her chief suspects. "Anyway, you know where to find us all this week, so Uncle Mac should be safe for the moment. Even from a black sheep of the family like me."
"Charlie!" said Chesney Thompson in protest.
She shrugged. "Telling it like it is, Ches. The half-blood poor relative, always suspicious. I'm surprised her lot –" she nodded at Tonks "– haven't arrested me already."
"Charlotte!" This was Abby, sounding equally scandalised.
"You're being a bit paranoid, girl," said Mickey uncomfortably. Tonks looked between the three cousins with interest. "Come on, let's ... let's just enjoy ourselves while we can, eh? No-one's saying we're ... master criminals or anything."
"'Her lot' don't care that much," added Tonks quietly. "Especially when 'her' is one of 'you lot'. I'm half-blood too, as if it mattered a damn. So give it a rest, eh, love? You don't get sent to Azkaban unless you've actually done something. If you haven't, you've nothing to worry about."
"Yeah, well, nothing personal but that's what you Ministry types always say, isn't it? Doesn't always work out in practice, does it?"
Tonks shivered a little, despite the warmth of the day. "Personal experience?" she said, slightly too aggressively.
"No, I just read the papers. And the occasional history book," Charlotte replied, also with an edge to her voice. The others looked between them nervously.
"Hey, this is the World Cup!" said Chesney, a little too heartily to sound entirely natural. "Let's not spoil it by quarrelling over crime and politics and stuff like that. I'm sure none of you would do anything terrible." He turned to Mickey Ashford. "Who do you reckon will win, then?"
"Er, Ireland, definitely," he said, catching Chesney's mood and seizing on the change of topic with obvious relief. "Got to be. Krum's managed to get Bulgaria past a few decent sides, but he's the only player they've got who's up to the quality of the Irish. And Lynch is at least as good, I reckon, so he should be able to keep Krum away from the Snitch until his Chasers have got the game under control. My money's on Ireland by at least 200 points."
"Right, I'm off to put a bet on Bulgaria, then," said Charlotte Perks in what was doubtless intended to be a joking voice. It came off as slightly strained to Tonks' ear. "Because whenever you back a Hippogriff at the races, Mick, it usually turns out to have three legs and a broken wing."
"Not this time, Charlotte," he said confidently. "It's as good as a sure thing."
"I think he's right," said Chesney. "You won't get good enough odds on a straight Ireland win, the value bets are elsewhere. With the Seekers being so good I'd say the match being over before midnight is a decent punt. Er, if I were a betting man, that is." He looked sideways at Tonks, who grinned at him.
"Well, I had five Galleons on a double of Troy being top goalscorer for Ireland and scoring more goals than the entire Bulgarian team. Sound worthwhile, Mr Non-Betting-Man?"
Chesney grinned back. "He takes the penalties, doesn't he? That's a safety bet."
-----
Tonks was unable to direct the conversation away from sporting matters after that, the cousins seeming to tacitly agree not to discuss any touchy subjects. Since she didn't want to reveal her particular interest in them, eventually she prised Chesney away with a reminder that they were supposed to be patrolling.
Nothing much of interest seemed to be happening, except for Rhiannon and Will Poppleford ticking someone off for staging a miniature Quidditch match outside their tent with action figures. Then, as her gaze tracked around the main field, she suddenly stopped dead; she could actually feel her jaw dropping.
"Hang on ... that can't be ... what's she doing here?" She pointed at a black-haired woman on the opposite side of the field, chatting to a young man as they headed for the path that led through the woods to the stadium.
"Who?" said Chesney in confusion. He didn't get an answer, and hastily followed at Tonks' heels as she strode across the grass. The man and woman had disappeared from view by this time; Tonks raced along the path after them and skidded to a halt as she caught up, just managing not to cannon into them.
"Mrs Hallendale?" she said incredulously.
Angelica Hallendale turned around, looking just as startled as Tonks had been. "Miss ... Tonks?" she said. "What's the matter?"
"Is there a problem, Ny ... er, Tonks?" said the man hesitantly. She glanced at him for the first time, and recognised Montgomery Hallendale again.
"Not exactly, but ... what are you doing here, Mrs Hallendale? I don't understand."
Mother and son exchanged looks. "Um, I don't either, really," she said. "Why shouldn't I be here? We've got a booking."
"But ... you're a Muggle. Nothing personal, but if the Muggle-Repelling Charms on the stadium aren't working, we've got a serious problem on our hands."
Chesney coughed. "I don't think they reach out this far, Tonks," he said apologetically. "When you were checking the Top Box guest list, I was looking at the security handbook for something to do? According to the map it's just the stadium itself and a ring of about a mile around it. It's twenty minutes walk away, you know."
"Oh, I see." Tonks felt deflated for a moment, but then the logic of the situation reasserted itself. "But that means that Mrs Hallendale won't be able to get much further along this path anyway. The charms must kick in before you get to the end. You must have known you wouldn't be able to show your mum the stadium, Montgomery?"
"Er, Monty, please. Using 'Montgomery' makes you sound a bit too much like my mother." He smiled tentatively.
Angelica Hallendale bit her lip. Tonks wasn't sure if it was from nervousness or to stop herself from laughing. "I do hope he'll be able to," she said. "It would be a shame to waste the ticket."
"Ticket?" Tonks felt her jaw drop again. "How the hell were you expecting to watch the match?"
Angelica sighed resignedly, glanced at her son for a moment, and turned to Tonks with slight trepidation. "Montgomery was going to cast the counter-charm for me," she said. "That's all right, isn't it?"
"What? No!" said Tonks with indignation. "It's completely against the regulations!" She rounded on Montgomery Hallendale, and suddenly smiled at the irony of the situation. "Roles reversed, then, Monty?" she said. "Who's breaking the rules now? Makes being out of bounds in the Arithmancy classroom seem like small change, doesn't it?" She grinned evilly as he gazed at her open-mouthed.
"Miss Tonks, I didn't mean to cause trouble," said Angelica with a trace of alarm.
"Oh hell. Listen, we thought about how to handle this if anybody should ask, and decided we'd just say, oh, er, I mean that it wasn't anything illegal, and, well ..." began Montgomery, finding his voice at the same moment, but Angelica flashed him a look that clearly said shut up, son. He did. Tonks smiled to herself; his mother obviously had him well trained.
"Miss Tonks, I really didn't want to cause trouble," she repeated with a placating sort of smile, obviously choosing her words with care. "But I can't be the only Muggle who wanted to see the match, can I? I mean, I read in the Prophet that Quigley was Muggle-born, and surely his parents will be here?"
"I wouldn't know ... but that's besides the point, anyway," said Tonks in exasperation. "You're not the mother of a team member, are you, unless Monty has talents I don't know about/"
"I'm sure he does," said Angelica, who seemed to be fighting to keep a straight face. "But there must be a few other exceptions?"
"Not that I'm aware of."
Chesney coughed again. He seemed to be trying to do it as tactfully as possible, but Tonks glared at him in irritation. "What? Was there more in that handbook I missed?"
"Rr ... yes? I think it said something about Muggle spectators going to the Security HQ to have the charms counteracted? You had to show a ticket and be vouched for by a wizard or witch to prove you knew what was going on, and sign a bunch of forms to say you wouldn't tell anybody, on pain of activating a hex and all that, but ..."
"Ah. Right." Tonks cursed silently. Why didn't you fill us in on this, Rhiannon? she wondered, far too annoyed at being made to look foolish to care if she was being unfair. "OK, then. Yes. You'll need to go to the HQ tent and ... and do whatever the procedure is." She addressed Montgomery again. "But it still isn't something you should have been freelancing on. What do you think we have security for, eh?"
"I'm sorry." His mouth twitched, which suggested he too was seeing the ironic side of the situation. "Are you going to dock points from me?"
Tonks struggled to keep a stern expression on her face. "No, but maybe I ought to put you in real detention for this," she snapped. "And it'd be a lot worse than doing lines, let me tell you."
"Azkaban?" he said, eyes widening in shock. "You aren't serious, are you?"
"Well, you haven't actually done anything yet, have you?" She suppressed a grin as the earlier conversation sprang to mind. "But you've still got plenty of time to earn yourself a ticket there if you don't watch your step."
"Don't even joke about such things, Miss Tonks," said Angelica with a shudder. "That hellhole has to be a parent's worst nightmare. I guess a mother would do anything to keep her son out of that place."
Tonks maintained her poker face. "I dare say. But then, only one known person has ever escaped from the Rock, and his mother's dead and she wouldn't have wanted him back anyway." She could feel three pairs of curious eyes staring at her, and lost her desire to grin. "Oh all right, I'm just trying to put the wind up you a bit. I should probably report this or slap a fine on you or something, but I don't want the paperwork, OK? Just make sure you do it properly now." She pointed back to the campsite. "Off you go."
She followed the Hallendales as they walked rather sheepishly back along the path. Her curiosity, as so often, got the better of her. "How did you even get interested in Quidditch anyway, Mrs Hallendale? Montgomery – oh all right, sorry, Monty – didn't play at school, as far as I remember?"
Angelica Hallendale looked back and smiled at her. "No, but Hank became quite a fan, once he got over his disappointment that there weren't any pro Quodpot teams over here. He used to take me along, and I got hooked too. He'd have been pleased the Tornados are doing so well." The smile wavered for a moment. "It's one of the few things in the wizarding world I can really be bothered to keep up with nowadays. Montgomery got tickets for us."
"I see. Is your other son here as well?"
"Clark?" The smile definitely wobbled at this, and there was a sadness in her voice. "He'll be arriving eventually. He's got some sort of business to do, he always has, or so he says. Doesn't want to spend time with his dear old mother, I guess."
"Well, surely not so old," put in Chesney cheerfully. "You don't look old enough to have a son Monty's age ... well, certainly not for a Muggle anyway."
That definitely put the smile back on Angelica's face. "Thank you," she said, grinning broadly. "I think I rather like your partners, Miss Tonks. You seem to pick them well."
"Oh, that's just luck and natural talent," said Tonks brightly. They'd reached the end of the path by now, and she pointed them in the direction of the Security HQ tent on the other side of the campsite. "Seriously now, can I trust you to do this the proper way?"
Angelica raised a hand. "By the Honour of the Hallendales. That do?"
"I suppose it'll have to. And if you don't, I'll set Cassius onto you, all right?"
"It's a deal. Ready, Montgomery?"
"Yes, just a moment. Er, Tonks ... " He hesitated. "Oh, never mind. Nice to see you again, even if one of us does seem to cause the other trouble every time we meet." He smiled, nodded, and followed his mother across the field. Tonks watched them as they went, with Monty pointing at the tent and throwing his hands up in exasperation; they seemed to be having quite a heated discussion
She glanced at her watch and looked up at Chesney. "We're already ten minutes past the end of the shift! You see where being conscientious gets you?"
"Yes. Late for lunch. Really bad move."
Rhiannon Davies was still grumpy over lunch, but an afternoon's sunbathing cheered her up considerably, and by the time they'd finished the evening shift she was prepared to admit Tonks had actually played a pretty good joke. Tonks grinned and nodded, and made another mental note to watch out for the inevitable counter.
"What's the plan for tomorrow, Leader?" she called as they settled down for the night. "We've got a lie-in in the morning, haven't we?"
"Change of schedule," muttered Rhiannon sleepily. "We're down to do the early shift again. Make sure you're up bright and early. I've set the alarm."
"Right you are." Tonks chuckled to herself under cover of the darkness, recognising the feeble attempt at revenge. She'd seen the list of shifts in the security tent, and knew they hadn't changed. And she'd noticed her companion charming the alarm clock so that only Tonks could hear it. She waited a few minutes for Rhiannon to fall asleep, then pointed her wand at the clock and whispered a Silencing Charm
Nice try, Rhi, she thought, grinning as she shortened her hair again and curled up to sleep. But not this time.
-----
Monday 24th August 1994
When Tonks woke up, it took her a moment to realise that the alarm hadn't rung, and she smiled to herself. In the other bed, Rhiannon was still asleep; Tonks briefly considered teasing her with a loud "Rise and shine!" but decided it would be kinder to let her wake later and realise her trick hadn't worked.
It was possible to almost feel the excitement around the site when she stepped out, as people rose and realised that the waiting was nearly over, and the Quidditch World Cup Final really was tonight. Tonks smiled happily as she surveyed the site.
Nearby, a group of Irish supporters were dancing an impromptu jig to the tune of a fiddle played by one of their number (or at least, he was making an acceptably good show of pretending to move the enchanted bow by himself). By contrast, a small group of teenage Continental witches were doing a peculiar dance to music from a Muggle radio, which seemed to involve jumping from side to side with their feet together. On the other side of the field by the taps, a teenage boy was waving to a pretty girl and spilling the water he was carrying, to the obvious amusement of his friends. A portly wizard strode past; his enormous handlebar moustache would easily have been his most impressive feature if it hadn't been for his purple skin. In the section set aside for those with cheaper seats, a wide-eyed girl with straggly blonde hair was chattering away to a man Tonks assumed to be her father, as he was smiling indulgently at her over-the-top enthusiasm. And closer to home, noises from the next tent indicated that Chesney Thompson and Will Poppleford were stirring.
"What time is it?" came a bleary voice from inside their tent.
"About 8.15," called Tonks, listening to their muffled cursing and belatedly realising that this didn't really qualify as a lie-in. She decided to leave them to it and just play tourist; so she took the path through the woods to the stadium, intending to have a good long look before the crowds arrived. When she reached the end, she caught her breath. Although the information packs said the stadium was big, seen close up that word somehow failed to convey sufficient depth of meaning – in the same way that dangerous was an inadequate description of an angry dragon. The golden walls were almost blinding in the bright morning sunlight, and Tonks could feel her jaw dropping as she strolled around.
She stepped into a small foyer to take a closer look at the elaborately worked crests of world Quidditch teams lining the walls, only to be stopped by a harassed-looking little wizard. "You can't come in here!" he said fussily. "Ministry organisers and security staff only!"
"Oh, er, I am security staff," said Tonks, putting on a placating smile. She dug into her Muggle jeans for her now crumpled ID and held it out for him to see. He frowned at its appearance, but after tapping it with his wand and muttering some incantations, seemed mollified.
"Very well, Miss ... ah, Auror Tonks –" he noticed her job description on the document and looked quite impressed "– you're allowed to be here. What did you want?"
"Ah, well ..." She hadn't really wanted anything in particular, but felt the need to make up some story to stop him looking down his nose at her. "I thought ... I'd take a look at the stadium before I go on duty tonight, get a feel for where I'm supposed to be?"
"Excellent idea," he said happily. "Where are you stationed?"
"Er, actually, I'm not sure," said Tonks, suddenly realising she didn't have that information. "Do you have a map? We're Team 14."
"Of course, of course," he said, pulling a large key from his robes and opening a door with it. Tonks poked her head inside and was surprised to see a large control room like the one in the Ministry Atrium, with security maps of the stadium on the walls. Then again, there had to be extra precautions that she, as a junior member of the team, didn't know about. Presumably somebody would watch the VIP sections on one of these maps, so if, say, an ex-Death Eater tried to sneak into the Top Box along with the Minister and the Boy Who Lived, he'd be spotted immediately (except in the unlikely case that he had the same name as someone meant to be there). Tonks looked for the dot with her own name and found it, next to someone with the prosaic name of Arnold Smith.
"It's so nice to see someone as young as yourself being this responsible, Auror," said Smith, chattering away brightly. "Most people your age would just slack off when they had the chance."
"Oh, quite," said Tonks with a straight face.
"You will be stationed here," said the wizard, oblivious to this, indicating a point about a quarter of the way along the pitch from one of the goal hoops. She brightened: a pretty good place for viewing the match. "Would you like me to show you how to get there?"
Tonks looked at the map and tried to memorise the maze of twisty little passages, all alike, between her current location and the exit to the pitch. She failed dismally. "Thanks, Mr Smith. Yes, perhaps you had better show me."
She followed him into the bowels of the stadium, hoping that she'd be able to find her way out again. When he threw open the last door, the change from dim torchlight to bright sunlight temporarily dazzled her. She stepped through, looked around, and gaped.
"Well, Auror Tonks, what do you think of it?" said Smith with a touch of quiet pride. "We've been working on this all year. We've managed to make it rather impressive, haven't we?"
"No kidding, mate," she murmured. If the stadium had looked imposing from outside, that was nothing to how it looked once you were inside. Tonks, despite herself, felt slightly overawed. "Could I ... er, take a look around? It's amazing."
Smith smiled happily. "Yes, of course, it's a real ... well, 'Theatre of Dreams' as our younger workers have started to call it. Please do, but you'd better check in with the central security team." He pointed to a small group clustered around a table in the middle of the pitch.
"Yes, I will. Thank you, Mr Smith," she said, giving him a genuine smile. To her relief, she recognised a woman standing at the security table as a senior Auror, who grinned, signed Tonks in, and pretended to believe her story about wanting to check her working conditions.
"Better take a good look around then," she said with a wink. "You might need to know what it all looks like."
Tonks grinned back and went off to tour the stadium. Even the cheaper seats appeared to be quite comfortable, nothing like the plastic buckets at the football matches her father had occasionally taken her to when she was a kid. Everything structural seemed to be made of pure gold, and all the walkways were covered with soft purple carpeting. It had doubtless been done with powerful Aurum Charms and temporary fixing spells on Transfigured flooring, but still, it was highly impressive and must have cost an unbelievable number of Galleons.
A few broomsticks and a slightly battered Quaffle lying near a pair of open doors caught her eye, and she wandered over to take a look. The brooms were even more ancient than her Comet Two Sixty, and she guessed that they might be for use by the staff checking the alignment of the goal hoops. She was about to move on when it dawned on her that the doors were the exit from the changing rooms, and in a few hours time Troy, Moran, Krum and the rest would be flying out of them ready to start the Final.
Tonks hesitated and gazed around, but no-one seemed to be looking in her direction. She almost began to walk away; but realised immediately that she was unlikely to get another such opportunity. And it wasn't as if she was planning to damage anything ...
She quickly grabbed one of the brooms, ducked into the tunnel, and Transfigured her Muggle clothes into a reasonable facsimile of England Quidditch robes; then picked up the Quaffle and flew out, imagining herself to be a Chaser flying out for the World Cup Final – a childhood dream she'd acted out many a time on her toy broom, although lack of talent had put paid to any ideas of making even the House team. She flew a slow loop around the stadium, pretending she could hear the roar of the crowd, and grinning slightly shamefacedly at how childish she was being, then pointed the broom and rocketed towards the goalposts. She took careful aim, hurled the Quaffle at the centre hoop, and couldn't restrain a whoop of triumph as it flew through, only clipping the ring slightly as it went in.
"Oh very good, Miss Tonks." She nearly fell off at the booming voice magnified by a Sonorus charm. She spun round in midair and saw a new wizard looking up at her from the security table. Crimson with embarrassment, she flew down slowly, changing her clothes back to normal and trying to compose an excuse. As she landed, her heart sank as she recognised the wizard as Robards. He pointed his wand at his throat and muttered "Quietus," then gazed at her sternly.
"Erm, I was just, well ..." She trailed off. It was blindingly obvious what she'd been doing, after all.
He held her gaze for a little while, then the edges of his mouth quirked. "Don't worry. By my count, you're the thirty-fourth person to do that so far this year." He smiled at her relief. "About time you went back to work, though."
-----
Tonks' patrol with Chesney was uneventful, and they spent most of the time just chatting and joking, but to her surprise Cassius was waiting for her when they returned to their tents, talking to Will Poppleford. She grinned and raised her eyebrows. "Didn't expect to see you here working, Cassius."
He blinked, then smiled. "Well, I didn't feel like camping out at my age. So I decided to stay at home and just Apparate in on the day. How's security duty going? Caught anyone sneaking into the stadium and doing something they shouldn't yet?"
"Er … no. Anything interesting happening?" she asked quickly.
"Nothing much, I'm afraid. Although William here was just telling me about the conditions the Wizengamot laid down in the deal that kept Arkwright out of Azkaban. One of them allowed the Magical Creatures department to make periodic inspections of his house and grounds to ensure he wasn't keeping anything he wasn't supposed to. It might be worth our while to tag along on the next one and keep out eyes and ears open."
"What is he allowed to keep?" Tonks asked Poppleford.
"Anything that doesn't actually eat people," he replied with a shrug. "No, hang on, I'm wrong. The judgement said he needed permission to keep any magical creature." He sniggered. "Probably all he has now is a few Kneazles. I think he asked to breed fancy Hippogriffs, but they even turned that down. He wasn't too happy, but from the gossip I heard, he wasn't quite so venomous about your Ashford bloke the last time we talked to him."
"Right." Tonks hesitated, but couldn't see any way of discussing what she wanted to with Poppleford around. "Er, show you the tent, Cassius?"
"Oh, good idea," he said, cottoning on quickly. "I wondered whether you had to rough it. If you'll excuse us, William, and, er, Chesney? I'll just see if they're treating my staff well."
"Or in other words, you want to talk about meeting Charlie yesterday, and don't want us to overhear anything confidential," said Chesney, laughing. "Go on, don't mind us. We'll just put our feet up a bit before tonight."
"Right. Good." Tonks didn't like being so transparent, but it did make things easier. She'd hoped to find Rhiannon in the kitchen, but wasn't particularly surprised that she wasn't there. Cassius' mouth twitched.
"Well, I take it Rhiannon left to ... consult with another mutual colleague," he said tactfully, as they took seats at the table. "I should have told her I was dropping by. Anyway, the main thing is for us to compare notes. I gather you've talked to some of our suspects?"
"Exactly." Tonks quickly summarised her conversation with the Ashford cousins, and for light relief described her encounter with the Hallendales. Cassius frowned.
"Oh dear. I'll have to have a quiet word with young Angelica." He chuckled tolerantly. "I get the feeling that she – and her husband – never exactly played according to the conventional rules. I imagine it would alarm that son of hers."
"It did when I threatened him with jail."
"Really? I'm not surprised. She said the other son – Clark – has been in trouble a few times."
"He has?" said Tonks, taken aback.
"Yes … reading between the lines, I'd say his father's death hit him badly, but she doesn't like talking about that. Apparently he used to pick fights a lot, but wasn't very good at fighting spells – so he usually ended up getting hurt as well as falling foul of the Patrol."
"I see." Tonks wondered how Cassius had got her to explain this in the first place, but put it aside as not really her concern. "Anyway, what do you think about Little Miss Oversensitive and the rest? Ashford safe or not?"
Cassius paused for thought. "He should be for the moment. And to be fair, there isn't any actual evidence against them, it's just that they're obvious suspects." He scowled. "In particular, we haven't found a connection with this Blackstock girl, who I freely admit is a puzzle to me."
"She couldn't have been Mickey's girlfriend, could she? The one he seems to have split up with?"
Cassius smiled. "Nice try, Tonks, but Donnacha and Arnold already considered that possibility. Of course, they haven't had time to talk to everyone who might know them, but no-one has reported seeing them together. In fact no-one can remember Portia ever having had a boyfriend, other than dates approved by her parents as potential suitors with a view to making a good match."
Tonks grimaced. "Ugh. Blackstock's really going the high society route, isn't he? My mother's lot have been marrying their kids off to 'good blood' for generations. Half the time that meant their cousins. I suppose I'm lucky I only change shape instead of having two heads."
"Their 'lot' were my family's lot as well," Cassius reminded her quietly.
Tonks blanched. "Sorry."
"That's all right," he said with dignity. "Although yes, it is silly. But that's the way elites anywhere tend to behave."
"I suppose." She leaned back in her chair. "She's not likely to have much luck catching a nice respectable boy, is she? The old pure-bloods don't like social climbers."
"Oh, I don't know," said Cassius with a slight smile. "Considerable beauty often wins a man over, whatever his views on ancestry. I ... well, I've seen it happen many a time. Look at the Hallendales for a start." He paused for a moment. "And if you want to be technical, Portia Blackstock is classed as pure-blood. She only has Muggle ancestry in her great-grandparents."
"Wouldn't have been far back enough for the Blacks," Tonks pointed out.
"Well no, but they were always very strict, weren't they?" Cassius replied with obvious embarrassment. "I suppose my family were fairly strict, but it wasn't an article of faith, just a ... a social viewpoint. They thought marrying into Muggle blood was dreadfully common, but they didn't consider it obscene." He smiled tentatively. "How did we get on to this subject, anyway?"
"Sorry," said Tonks again. "So, er, any possible connection between the Blackstocks and the Ashfords yet?" she said, attempting to bring the conversation back to safer ground.
Cassius shook his head. "Nothing much. I see from the lists that Mackenzie Ashford contributes quite generously to the same charity – the one whose annual dinner I met Portia at? – but lots of us do. Portia does a bit of volunteer work for them, a very worthy sort of activity. We'll have to check if the younger Ashfords have ever had much contact with it. Arnold's monitoring the situation."
"How's Mackenzie Ashford?"
"Donnacha tells me he's feeling edgy. Must be hard on the poor chap, really. I don't think he likes keeping his nephew and nieces at arm's length, he more or less brought them up, after all." He sighed, with a sort of sympathetic frown on his face. "But he can see the sense in keeping them away just in case, even if it goes against his family feelings. 'Follow the money' isn't always the answer but it's usually a good principle for Auror work."
"I suppose so. You might have a chance to talk to the Blackstocks tonight, perhaps?"
"If I can – probably only in passing, though. I could bring up the charity as a conversation starter. Wouldn't it be nice to be able to interview them officially without worrying we might be stepping on someone's toes?" He snorted. "We wouldn't be tiptoeing around like this with someone who didn't know senior officials. I'm telling you, Tonks, if we don't get any further with this case in the next week or two, I'm going to do it anyway, and damn the consequences if he complains to his friends. It's not like I have career ambitions left. I fulfilled all those first time around."
Tonks smiled. "Well I've barely even started with mine. But if you ever want to get into a fight with Umbridge and her cronies, I'll be perfectly willing to hold your coat!"
--------------------------------
Notes: Nods to Manchester United (sorry), Whigfield (even sorrier), Douglas Adams, and the old computer game ADVENT noted for the record. Also various references to HP characters. :)