'Goyle.'
At Snape's quiet warning, Goyle stopped fumbling for his wand and hulked: with no metamorphmagical ability whatsoever, he stood quietly in the rain conveying a better than fair impression of a small brick outbuilding. 'I said "Drop your Wands",' growled McLaggan. 'Expelliamus!' Snape's wand went bouncing and clattering. Reluctantly, the Weasley twins handed over their own wands. 'Right. Who'd like to tell me what's going on?'
'We woke up when the windows downstairs broke,' began the Weasleys.
'And, when we got downstairs, we discovered a cauldronful of 'Chicken Soup' was missing. Not the cauldron you understand . . .'
'Just the . . .'
'Chicken soup?' queried McLaggan.
'A bit like 'Canary Creams' only . . .'
'Right,' said McLaggan.
'And Snape said we should talk to Tonks about it.'
'So we . . . '
Auror Lachlan McLaggan raised one hand to forestall further geminian explanation. 'Professor Snape?'
'Ms. Tonks found herself outnumbered. The 'Chicken Soup' evened the odds,' Snape said quietly.
'Oh dear.' The twins weren't worried. 'Where did she go?'
'I wonder if you've come across the concept of evolution?' pondered Snape. 'No? Well, it's something of a muggle idea but perhaps you should investigate it.'
'Evolution? Isn't that one animal turning into another?' asked McLaggan cautiously. All three considered the tiles littering the alley. Very slowly, their faces angled upward.
The dragon had evolved and it was now much larger.
Monstrous claws gripped the guttering; behind them, what looked like a grey, scaly gable end narrowed into a slender column disappearing upwards; the neck flexed and an enormous head loomed down from the darkness. Despite its finlike crest, it looked less reptilian than horselike; tufts of fuchsia feathers clustered around leathery ears, pricked to attention. Its sinuous prehensile tail darted out to wrap around a finial, preventing the creature from overbalancing as it leant over the alley, and lips curled back slowly from dagger like teeth.
'That's Tonks?' McLaggan raised his wand.
Pale flame played about the reptile's nostrils as it hiccoughed; a puff of reddish smoke preceded a belch and then, long neck snaking like a lose fire hose, it vomited copiously.
As Snape skipped nimbly backwards, a jet of blood, feathers, beer, bits of dead hen, traces of 'Chicken Soup' and miscellaneous dragon stomach contents all mixed up in gallons of rainwater was forcibly discharged along the alley, knocking flat both Weasleys and McLaggan. Irritably, the dragon swung its head, took another turn on the finial with its tail, and leant forward and down, apparently intent on varying its diet, and this was when the Weasleys remembered the water guns containing 'Chicken Soup' antidote.
Flopping in viscous brownish puddles, slithering around on the cobblestones, one of the twins scored a direct hit on the nearest wall, potion splashing off onto dragon vomit, causing some of the lumpier bits to mutate horribly, and then a silvery arc from the other Weasley's water gun intersected with a fushia crest and Tonks, suddenly lacking claws and prehensile tail to hold on with and wings to impede her fall, toppled forwards into the alley. There was a soft, indescribable noise as her head hit stone and a sharp crack as her body followed.
Her eyes blinked slowly open and closed as their sockets filled with blood and overflowed,
'Don't touch her!' McLaggan held off the twins with his wand and dragged from his pocket a small, circular mirror. 'Emergency,' he told it. 'Auror down in Knockturn Alley by Cauldron Court. Medical assistance required. Emergency. Auror down . . .' He listened to some reply audible only to its owner. 'No. Apparition would kill her.' Tonks glanced at herself and was forced to agree. 'Same for Portkey,' continued McLaggan. 'No. I'm not a Licensed Mediwizard . . .'
Snape knelt on the ground beside Tonks. A swift wand movement created an enlarged coloured image of her head in the air above; red fading through indigo to black reflecting massive damage. As she watched the memory, Tonks wondered where Snape had learned diagnostic spells.
'You get someone here now!'
'That's ok, Lachlan,' soothed the Fortinbras of Goyle's memory. The group of off-duty Aurors who'd been drinking in the Leaky Cauldron had arrived. 'Gates: Saint Mungo's. Abduction if necessary.' Gates disapparated. 'Snape?' Careless of her robes, Fortinbras knelt beside her injured colleague.
McLaggan turned his attention back to the mirror. 'Fifteen minutes will be too late,' he protested, his face ghastly.
'I could . . . I can try to stabilise her,' suggested Snape.
'Do it,' said Fortinbras.
Snape's wand gestured towards Tonk's head as he began to chant.
In the floating image, red fragments of bone slid slowly: arranging themselves in a loose formation. At this stage, repairing the skull would only damage the underlying tissue. He muttered something that sounded like a question and the image changed, accentuating the brain. Snape put down his wand and pulled Tonks up until her shoulders rested on his knees, her head against his breast, and cradling her face with his hand, began something that sounded like a whispered lullaby. The image continued to darken. Snape stopped and watched it for several breaths before picking up his wand. Tonks head lolled as he opened a shallow cut across his hand before returning it to steady her face. The wand, he held across her midriff and, eyes closed, recommenced his all but inaudible mantra until, finally, the dark areas of the image stopped expanding. It was apparent that the damage had been arrested but not until a small cheer went around the assembled Aurors could Tonks be sure that it was being reversed.
A double crack announced the arrival of Gates and a Mediwitch who made no attempt to interfere as the bruised colours of the image slowly faded to clear rose. Voice faltering, Snape's head fell forward, hair clumping about his face. The healer pointed her wand silently; bone slipped and closed until the image of the injured Auror's head was perfect. 'Good,' said the healer. 'Take her to Saint Mungo's for observation.
As Snape lowered a trembling hand, Tonks' eyes blinked open. 'That's a useful spell,' said Moody. Unpolyjuiced and befrocked, Madeye was something from a nightmare. In the wand light, high heeled silver sandals glittered in his hand.
'Check her stomach for transfigured materials,' warned Snape, stiff fingers amongst the cobblestones, bracing himself from falling with shaking arms.
'What sort of materials?' queried the mediwitch, opening a small notepad.
One of the twins squirted 'Chicken Soup' antidote over dragon vomit and the healer opened her mouth, shut it and put the book away. Tonks found herself wincing at gelatinous human limbs lying tangled in the gutter. 'I'll take her,' said Styles, bending to ease his colleague forward and pull her into his arms. 'Tonks, sweetheart, apparition,' he murmured and they were gone.
'He's as thick as two short planks and he's a Death Eater!'
Tonks turned to see Justin Finch Fletchly arguing with Fiona. 'I'm not a Death Eater,' protested Goyle.
'Is that so?' Justin wiggled Goyle's mask at him.
'They threatened my mother if I didn't . . .'
'You should have told the Aurors.'
'Yeah right,' huffed Goyle, 'and they'd have immediately mounted round the clock protection. We're nobodies. They're too busy playing Palace Guard for Umbridge.'
'Yeah? Aren't you a pureblood?' objected Justin.
'Nobody,' persisted Goyle. Fiona Finch-Fletchly abandoned the horse and slipped her hands into his large ones. 'I'm sorry Fi,' he murmured penitently. On tiptoe, Fiona reached up to kiss him and then Tonks was thrown up and out as the penseive recording of Goyle's memory terminated abruptly.
Which was quite understandable really, Tonks decided. After so much spilt circulatory fluid, she was delighted by such a carnal subversion of Goyle's 'Pureblood' ideology. In the stationary cupboard light patterns danced from the surface of the penseive. 'Fiona managed to er . . . get some sense into him then?' she enquired.
'Formal engagement,' said Fortinbras.
'Really? That's nice.'
'Tonks,' said Fortinbras, 'could Snape have given you a love potion?'
