Title: All That Glitters
Disclaimer: I don't own anything
Summary: While the Golden Trio and Malfoy attempt to capture Runcorn or Yaxley, Andromeda Tonks receives a visit from her sister, and Penelope Clearwater and Ginny reach an understanding.
Chapter Twenty-Four: So Glad You Could Make It
Andromeda Tonks knew better than most that blood was indeed thicker than water. She could change her surname upon marriage with a Muggleborn, she could cut ties with everyone in her family, she could refuse to acknowledge that there was any bond there to begin with, and yet it would still never be enough. The blood than ran through her veins was Black blood, and there was no escaping it.
Perhaps that is why it did not surprise her when she opened the door to her home, her grandson balanced precariously on one hip, and found herself staring at Narcissa.
Narcissa. She should have been the odd sister out. Both Andromeda and Bellatrix had inherited the dark looks of the Black family, the dark hair and lidded eyes that were at once both stunning and disconcerting to look at. Like all the others in her family, Andromeda had also been endowed with a forceful personality, a lack of patience, and a short temper. Unlike the rest of her family, however, she had certainly not used her attributes to follow Voldemort.
But Narcissa… Narcissa, who had been given fair hair and pale eyes and elf-like looks. Narcissa, who could so easily, quietly, patiently manipulate those around her, who could keep her temper in check and present a meek countenance to the world while secretly plotting her own ascent to power…
Narcissa was unlike the other Blacks as well.
But blood was blood.
And Black blood was Black blood.
"Hello, Cissy," Andromeda said softly. The nickname fell easily from her lips even though she had not used it in ages. She had not even spoken to her sister in such a long time, and yet with Narcissa standing outside her door, the years seemed to fall away and the rest of the world melted into nothing.
"Andie," Narcissa replied with a short jerk of her head. "May I come in?"
Andromeda hesitated. Part of her wanted to curse and yell at her sister. Narcissa had denied her for so long, had turned her back on her and pushed her from the family without so much as a second thought. Andromeda had faded into the background while Narcissa had married well and risen through the social hierarchy until she was well-respected and admired by many. And now that the tables had turned, Narcissa dared to show up at her door?
And yet…
She looked down at the child nestled in her arms. Teddy's eyes, a bright blue – was that even his real shade? It was so hard to tell given how often he changed – stared up at her, uncomprehendingly. He did not know Narcissa, did not know the past, the history that lay between the two sisters. He did not know the stories that Andromeda so clearly remembered. He knew nothing.
And yet, Narcissa was technically his family. His lack of knowledge, his shelter protecting him from the reality of what that family had been like… it did not change the simple truth.
Blood was thicker than water.
And Narcissa was still her sister.
Andromeda pushed the door open further and stepped aside, allowing Narcissa to walk past her into the house.
Ginny shoved the scrolls at Penelope and turned on her heel, marching out of the room in a huff.
Penelope sighed and glanced in between the patient they had been treating and her boyfriend's sister, feeling both a little annoyed and a little guilty. Shooting an apologetic glance at the wizard lying on the bed, she placed the scrolls of parchments on table near the door and hurried after Ginny.
In the doorway, she paused and looked back. "Sorry, Mr. Thimbledon. This will only take a moment. I will be back as soon as possible."
The wizard stared glumly after her and ran a hand down his arm, which was currently covered in scales. "I'm not going anywhere," he said in a low tone, wincing with pain.
In the hallway, Penny caught sight of Ginny stalked away in the distance, obviously heading towards the lifts. With a groan, the older girl took off running, her heels clicking against the floor. The wizards and witches mingling in the corridor moved quickly out of her way, recognizing that she was a Healer by the color and cut of her uniform and assuming it was some sort of emergency.
She caught up with Ginny and slid into the lift just moments before the doors slid shut, sealing her in the small moving box.
The two witches were alone.
"What do you want?" Ginny snapped. "I thought you'd be happy now that I was gone. You haven't wanted me here since day one."
"Do you want to be here?" Penny shot back, flushed with anger. "Do you want to be a Healer?"
"Of course I do!"
"Because you just contradicted me in front of a patient. You insulted me, you were disrespectful. You were out of line."
The conversation had started out innocently enough. The patient had come in with scales all along the right side of his body and no idea how they had gotten there. Given that the etiology was unknown, Penny had opted not to proceed with any form of removal until they could be absolutely sure there would be no dangerous side-effects.
And that was where the problems had begun.
The patient had had a question, and Penny and Ginny had disagreed over the answer. But somehow the disagreement had escalated, ending with Penny brutally dismissing Ginny as unintelligent, and Ginny retaliating that Penny was arrogant and self-absorbed.
Somehow, the argument had evolved so that it was no longer about the patient at all.
"So I am not allowed to offer an opinion?" Ginny asked sarcastically. "I thought that was the reason I was here."
"You are here to learn," Penny retorted.
"Then teach!"
"I am trying."
"Right," Ginny drawled, rolling her eyes in ill-concealed disdain. "You are not trying. You don't want me to be here. You never wanted me to be your shadow, and you hate the fact that…"
"Oh, stop being such a brat," Penny snapped angrily, her temper wearing thin. "You are not the only person unhappy with this arrangement. But, whether you like it or not, I am the Healer you are going to be forced to shadow. So grow up and act like an adult."
"Why should I?" Ginny scoffed. "You aren't practicing what you preach."
The lift reached another floor and the doors slid open. A young wizard dressed in a Healer's robe stepped inside, glancing a little hesitantly between the two witches. As the lift continued its descent, the wizard chewed his bottom lip nervously, able to sense that something was wrong based on the tension that lingered in the air.
Penny stepped closer to Ginny and whispered under her breath, "What are you talking about?"
"You," Ginny snapped, not bothering to keep her voice low. "I'm talking about you! You talk like you are taking the high road, like you haven't done anything wrong. But you treat me like some nuisance that got underfoot, like I am just a waste of your time."
"Maybe you are," Penny retorted, turning sharply away from the younger witch. Her gaze moved to the wizard, a Healer who looked vaguely familiar. The last thing she wanted was to start a screaming match with Ginny while this hapless wizard was trapped in the lift with them. She did not like airing her own private problems in public.
"You didn't want to remove that patient's scales," Ginny accused, her voice shaking a little. It was clear, then, just how much Penny's words had upset her, even if she refused to let it show on her face.
"We don't know how he got them," Penny answered in a voice of forced calm, sparing Ginny a brief look. "Any attempts to remove them before we obtain a proper diagnosis could result in the accidental removal of his arm."
"If we wait," Ginny countered, "the scales could spread."
"We don't know that they are spreading," Penny argued.
"True," Ginny agreed with a short nod, "but we also don't know that they aren't spreading." She paused and drew a breath, slowly exhaling. Her eyes were flashing and her face was flushed a light pink that clashed horribly with her hair.
The wizard Healer looked between the two and then stepped forward quickly, jabbing his finger at the buttons on the side of the lift as though hoping this action would allow them to reach his floor sooner.
"If the scales were caused by a curse, it could be Dark Magic. It would interfere with our own attempts to remove it… There are reasons that we do not just randomly try anything…" Penny said softly, her voice even but devoid of all emotion. She spoke coolly, factually.
"I know that," Ginny hissed. "You cannot possibly think that I am so incompetent…" Here Penny interjected with a snort of disbelief at her words, and Ginny pressed forward, "I am the top of my class. I am good at what I do. Not many students training to be Healers are allowed to participate in this shadowing program. But I was chosen for it. I am not a waste of your time."
"Then why are you suggesting ridiculously incompetent possibilities?"
"Because other types of Dark Magic will seep into his skin and cause damage to his organs. It might be more than skin deep. You told him it was likely only going to require a few correcting spells and a potion, but it could be so much more than that…"
"I know!" Penny exploded.
The lift finally reached the floor the wizard had selected, and the doors slid open. With an audible sigh of relief, the man nearly ran from the small confines, disappearing into the crowd of Healers, Trainees, patients, and family members who bustled about in the hallway.
"So you lied to your patient?" Ginny asked viciously.
A silence fell over those near to the lift, and several sets of accusatory eyes turned towards Penny. She swallowed a little anxiously, not wanting to have this particular conversation around patients. But Ginny had asked the question, and as several others filed into the lift with curious looks towards the two feuding witches, Penny wasn't sure she could not answer the question.
"I did not lie, per se," Penny snapped. The lift was crowded, and Penny was shoved up against the back wall, while Ginny was pressed into the opposite corner. Between the two of them was an older woman who was sprouting horns, two Healers and a Trainee, a young boy speaking rapidly in gibberish, an a man who kept pulling coins out of his ears and dropping them with a clang on the floor.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Of course you didn't," she muttered.
"I am going to kill my sister!" the wizard with coins protruding from his ears snapped to no one in particular as he scattered yet another handful of spare change across the ground. "I bet she thought the curse was funny! Well, we will see if she still finds it funny when the coins are coming out of her ears!"
"Gooeyduck porter cribble se noodle," the little boy offered, giving the older man a smile.
The wizard glared at the boy, clearly not comforted by the gibberish words.
One of the Healers intervened, placing a hand on the boy's arm. "Come on, Jacob. We're almost at the right floor, and we'll get you sorted. Then your Mum can come get you."
"Glibif tor leap."
"Uh… alright, Jacob."
The doors opened, and the Healer, the Trainee, and the little boy all filed from the lift.
Penny moved closer to Ginny. "I saw no reason to worry our patient with the possibilities. We don't know how bad it is, so why tell him that it could be that bad?" Penny argued, flinching slightly at the harsh sound of several more coins clattering on the floor. "And you still had no right to contradict me."
"Of course I did," Ginny replied.
"Not in front of the patient."
"The patient has a right to know…"
"Know what exactly? We don't know anything."
They reached another floor, and the remaining wizard and Healer left, with a final handful of coins tossed onto the floor. The lift switched directions at that point, and since Ginny made no move to get off, Penny knew they were in for another argument.
The doors slid shut.
"You don't like me," Ginny said as soon as they were alone again. "I get it. You're just as much of a pigheaded prick as Percy. You make a good match."
It took all of Penny's willpower not to reach for her wand and hex the redhead. Instead, she drew a shaky breath and answered, "You hurt him, too, Ginny. The problems in your family… they weren't all his fault."
Ginny sneered, her lips drawing back to reveal clenched teeth. "Really?"
"He was different. And you just couldn't take that, could you? He didn't fit into your ideas of what a Weasley should be like, and you kept trying to re-shape him, to force him into your image of what was right."
"He left us!" Ginny spat. "He insulted Harry and Dumbledore and Dad… He walked out on his own family." She blinked, shook her head and forced away the tears that were threatening to fall. "We were at war and he chose the Ministry over us."
'What reason did you give him to choose you?" Penny asked. "You mocked him at every turn. Or you sat back as Fred and George mocked him…"
'They were just pranks! And don't talk about Fred."
A silence fell between them, and Penny had far too much compassion to try to bring up anything about Fred again. Despite the problems that had existed between the twins and Percy, she knew that Percy certainly never wanted anything to happen to either of them. And she could only assume that the twins had returned the sentiment.
"You treat me like… like Percy did," Ginny said hoarsely. "After he left. He just… it was like he didn't even care anymore. Like I wasn't worth it. He didn't send any letters… not even after Dad got bit by the snake or Ron and I nearly got killed by Death Eaters at the Ministry or even at Dumbledore's funeral. He didn't… care."
Penny chewed her bottom lip. "Percy did not handle all of it that well," she agreed reluctantly. She couldn't argue the point, because Percy had been responsible for some of the problems. "But neither did any of you. And trust me, Percy did care. More than you know. Just because he didn't always take your side…"
"I never saw it, then," Ginny muttered. "If he really cared… he didn't show it." She leaned back against the wall of the lift and glanced around, her eyes going everywhere besides Penny's face. "Besides, refusing to believe us about something as big as… as Voldemort… that's more than just a little argument."
"Being family doesn't necessarily mean that you all like each other and trust each other implicitly," Penny argued. "Maybe it should, but it just doesn't. Trust me, I know."
"He didn't… he didn't have to like us. But he… he was supposed to love us. That is part of what it means to be family. And it didn't… it didn't always feel like it. He really hurt me."
"Yeah," Penny agreed. "You really hurt him, too. But… have you tried talking to him? I mean… actually talking?"
A silence fell between them.
Ginny rubbed at her eyes with one hand. "I shouldn't have contradicted you quite so… disrespectfully… in front of a patient," she muttered finally. As an afterthought, she added, "Even if everything I said was true."
Penny rolled her eyes in exasperation, but replied, "No, you shouldn't have. But I guess I could have been nicer to you."
The lift finally stopped and the doors slid open. Penny and Ginny stepped out and walked quickly through the hallway.
"So… how do we figure out the etiology of the scales?" Ginny asked tentatively.
Penny gave a weary shrug. "Well, usually you can just ask the patient, and they'll remember if they've been cursed. Since our patient doesn't remember, that makes things a bit more complicated…" And she launched into an explanation of the appropriate diagnostic techniques while Ginny occasionally interrupted with questions and comments.
"Reminds me of the evil stepmother's castle in Snow White."
"Huh?"
Hermione gave a huff of impatience and shook her head at Ron. "Never mind," she said, not wanting to spend the unnecessary time to tell Ron about Muggle fairytales. Instead, she switched her gaze back to the estate in front of them.
It was a large manor nestled in between hills. The land around it was boarded by a heavy iron gate, and a winding path lead towards the distant door. The manor itself had several turrets outlined against the sky, wings that jutted off in all directions. But though the place might have once looked impressive, it had long since fallen into disrepair.
"I know what you mean," Harry murmured to Hermione. "A little too clichéd, I think."
She bit back a smile. It was true – everything about the entire situation reminded her of some type of classic story told so many times it had become overused and worn.
Well… not everything. She looked over at Malfoy, considering him for a moment. She truly did not understand him, but perhaps it was because she had never made much of an attempt. He was a spoiled brat, a pureblooded Slytherin who had expected to have the world in the palm of his hand, and when it had all been ripped away, he had reverted back to a petty, petulant child.
Except… except that now he was risking his life to help them. She harbored no disillusioned beliefs about his true motive, he was trying to protect himself and his family. But could it also be possible that he was trying to help the rest of the world as well?
"Do we have a plan?" Ron asked, interrupting her thoughts.
Harry shrugged. He had not really thought through their actions, and now that they found themselves on the outskirts of the estate, he realized he had no idea how to proceed. His usual pattern of throwing caution to the wind would not work, not when his own reckless behavior had nearly gotten him killed before. But what else were they to do besides rush in with their wands out?
"Mate?" Ron prompted uneasily. "Maybe we should rethink this…"
"I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave," Malfoy sneered. "Sure you were sorted into the right House, Weasley?"
Ron opened his mouth to retort, but Hermione sent him a warning look and he lapsed into a sullen silence.
"You sure Runcorn and Yaxley are in there?" Hermione asked, looking sharply at Malfoy while patting her boyfriend on the arm in what she hoped was a reassuring gesture.
"It is our best bet," Malfoy defended himself. "What other option do we have?"
"It doesn't look inhabited," Harry remarked, turning jade green eyes back to the manor.
"Well, I doubt Runcorn and Yaxley want to advertise their presences," Malfoy countered. "If you are right about them, then they are only here hiding until Hannigan can get a handle on the Ministry. After Shacklebolt's trial, and after Snape is fed to the Dementors, they can come out and…"
Whatever he was about to say was cut off by the sudden eruption of smoke that burst from the gate before them. It was heavy and black, smelled like rusted metal and sour eggs, and filled the air so densely that the four would-be attackers were unable to see each other.
Hermione snapped her eyes shut instantly and groped for her wand. The smoke stung as she inhaled it, and she tried to keep from breathing. After a moment, she was able to pull her wand out and mutter a few incantations.
The smoke faded.
"What was that?" Ron asked.
"Something to keep out unwanted intruders," Malfoy suggested, rubbing the smoke out of his eyes.
"Seems pretty harmless," Ron argued. "Shouldn't traps be a little more difficult to overcome?"
"Harry!"
Hermione's horrified shout was enough to catch the other's attention, and both Ron and Malfoy turned towards the Boy Who Lived. He had fallen to his knees, his green eyes turning jet black, and was gasping for breath.
Hermione and Ron both dropped to his side. Hermione was speaking rapidly, her voice taking on the same high-pitched squeal that appeared any time she was truly panicked.
"It must be some result of having inhaled the smoke. But why is it affecting him and not us? Do you think it will answer to simple healing spells? Maybe I can suck the smoke out of his lungs? Except that that might also suck out all the oxygen and then he'll die…"
Harry listened to her words with the vague beginnings of fear. His vision was blurring, small black dots creeping in all the edges of his eyes, and he wondered how long it would be until he lost consciousness. He'd faced death enough times that somehow these situations only managed to leave him with a detached sense of unease now, and not the usual full-blown terror that afflicts a person on the edge of losing their life.
No, it was the threats to others, to the ones he cared about, that sent him into wild panic.
He turned worried eyes towards Hermione and wondered how he was going to save the world and Kingsley if he ended up dying before getting to Runcorn or Yaxley.
"Try finite incantatem."
Hermione blinked in surprise at Ron's suggestion, privately doubting that something that simple would work. But having no other ideas at the moment, she pointed her wand at Harry's throat and said in as firm a voice as she could muster, "Finite incantatem!"
And Harry stopped choking.
"Thanks, mate," Harry gasped, rising unsteadily to his feet as he gulped as much oxygen as possible.
"That was weird," Hermione said as she too rose to her feet. "Why would it only harm Harry?"
"Because it was a direct attack on him," Malfoy replied. While Ron and Hermione had been worried over Harry, he had moved closer to the iron gate and was studying it carefully, his wand moving through the air around him.
"How do you know?" Harry asked.
"The magic was sent towards you," Malfoy replied. "The Dark Arts… they leave a trail. It lingers in the air. This was a directed attack…" he lifted his gaze towards the manor, "by someone from within."
Hermione narrowed her eyes at Malfoy, tempted to ask him how he knew about the lingering effects of the Dark Arts. But he was a Slytherin and a favorite of Snape's, so she figured it wasn't even worth it to ask.
"If someone from inside directed it," Harry said softly, "that means…" He trailed off with a frown.
"Yeah," Malfoy agreed. "They know we're here."
"Well, so much for subtlety," Ron commented. "And so much for a surprise attack."
"Do we just walk in?" Hermione questioned. "They haven't come out to us…"
"Maybe they ran," Ron suggested. "Maybe they saw we were here and fled."
"No," Harry replied. "They're too arrogant. Too confident. They aren't going to run because they don't think they can be beaten." And although he would not have ever admitted this aloud, he knew they had every reason to be cocky. After all, they hadn't been caught yet, had they?
"So what? We just walk in?" Ron demanded.
"I'm not sure walking in will be all that easy," Malfoy answered. "My mum thinks that the place will be filled with Dark magic. Aunt Bella was…"
"We know," Harry said sharply, not wanting to think about Bellatrix Lestrange. He knew exactly what she was and what she had been capable of, and he did not need reminders of it.
"Then what do we do?" Ron pressed. "Because standing out here in the open is just stupid."
There was no arguing that point. They were at a disadvantage where they were, and standing around waiting for the next attack was not smart. But neither was walking directly into the lion's den.
"What choice do we have?" Hermione said with a resigned sigh.
"You could not come," Harry answered automatically, immediately.
But Hermione just rolled her eyes. "We've always have chances to walk away from you, Harry. We never took them. When are you going to stop expecting us to change our minds?"
"Okay…" Harry sighed and lifted his wand, gripping it tightly in his hand. "Let's go in."
It felt like a dangerous, probably incredibly stupid idea. But Hermione and Ron followed him as he walked towards the gate, and Malfoy reluctantly stepped aside and allowed them to push open the iron entrance. Then, as a group, the four of them stepped through the fence and onto the manor's grounds.
Author's note: I know I've dragged out this confrontation with Runcorn and Yaxley forever, and also haven't visited Snape in a while. But the next couple chapters should fix that…