'I beg your pardon?' said Umbridge.
'You had Professor Snape arrested,' said Tonks. 'You, personally, had him transferred to Azkaban.' Slightly unsteadily, Tonks got to her feet. 'I blame you.'
'Perhaps you are forgetting that Professor Snape was a Death Eater,' said Umbridge and cast a spell at the files in front of her.
Rotating slowly in mid-air, an image appeared of a human being so badly injured that further identification was impossible. Tonks, however, had seen it before. 'That is Professor Snape,' she said, 'following his final Ministry interrogation after the first Voldemort war.' Umbridge gaped and missed her chance. 'There were people missing.' Tonks continued relentlessly. 'Some of them children. If Professor Snape could have said, honestly, that he'd told the Ministry everything, perhaps that wouldn't have happened. But he couldn't. He couldn't because so many real Death Eater's had been released. Severus Snape was a spy; our spy; a man responsible for saving the life of the Minister himself.'
'What?' demanded Scrimgour.
'Actually I meant Minister Fudge,' said Tonks, but he did, indirectly save your life too.' Tonks collapsed back into the chair. 'Same for many members of the Wizengamot. People Voldemort didn't like.' Quite astonishing, thought Tonks as a good third of the Wizengamot winced. Must be Pavlovian.
'Sit down Dolores.' Clutching the rail in front of him, Scrimgour stood up slowly. 'Can you prove that, Auror Tonks?'
'Yes. Of course.' Tonks rubbed at her eyes. 'Severus Snape was Janus.'
'There was never any such person,' said Scrimgour. The "Janus Files" were just a story we put about to make the Death Eaters believe that they had a traitor in their ranks; make Voldemort even more paranoid. Merely disinformation.'
'No,' said Tonks. 'That bit was the disinformation. The files were real. You were too much of a target to have been told the truth.'
The Minister's hands paled on the wooden screen. 'Then where are they now?'
'With the rest of the Ministry's critical files. In the safe room. Ask Alistair Moody.' Tonks leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes as the noise in the courtroom got louder and louder, opening them again when silence fell, broken only by the thumping of Moody's progress from the courtroom's great double doors to the centre of the floor. In his arms were two metal boxes with wide straps around them, one of them bearing a flutter of seals from two decades before.
'The Janus Files,' said Moody as an inadvertent movement from Umbridge caused the pensifix projection of the bloody mess that had been Severus Snape to reappear.
'Sweet Merlin,' whispered Fudge, eying the boxes as if they might bite. There were stories about wizards implicated in the deaths of those to whom they owed a life debt. A seemingly intense consultation between Fudge, Umbridge and Scrimgour was swiftly concluded.
Even more slowly than Scrimgour had, Fudge got up. 'It is clear that the most dreadful mistake has been made,' he intoned. 'An enquiry into what happened will be launched immediately.' He turned to glance down at Scrimgour, who was opening the older of the files. Umbridge turned a death glare on Tonks. Fudge bent to whisper in Umbridge's ear. She turned to make a brief reply and Scrimgour looked as though he might choke. There was a triumphant glint in Dolores eyes. 'It is to be regretted,' began Fudge. He swallowed. 'It is deeply to be regretted that it will not be possible to return Professor Snape's body for burial as it has been disposed of in accordance with Ministry Regulations.'
'Disposed of?' queried Moody.
Unwillingly, Fudge nodded. 'Burnt.'
Strange that it takes only a moment for the world to end, thought Tonks. Only the time needed to speak a single word. She found herself staring at the carvings adorning the Wizengamot's seating. The complicated spell work woven into the runes was common knowledge and Tonks knew that they were only a first layer. Even as a dragon she couldn't get to Umbridge. She'd have to wait. Dolores would try to take precautions. Dolores would, undoubtedly, try to dispose of her too. But here, Tonks knew that she had the advantage. Tonks was an Auror whilst Dolores was merely a bureaucrat. As the awful clarity of the mental state that Aurors called 'the zone' broke over her, she welcomed the fact that she'd feel nothing until it receded. Sound exploded around her as reality resumed.
'. . . endeavour to clear things up as much as possible right away,' Scrimgour was saying. Wand clenched in her thin hand, McGonagall stood before the Wizengamot looking ready to transfigure the lot of them into cockroaches. Beside her huddled a small group of students, Slytherins, Tonks supposed, some of them crying. As McGonagall slipped an arm around one of the younger girl's shoulders, McLaggan sidled up and caught Scrimgour's attention. 'Yes, of course,' said Scrimgour. 'The Court recognises the goblins Hengefast and Griplock.
The doors to Courtroom Ten opened to admit a distinguished looking goblin, no less imposing for being bent over by age, with a tall staff of figured silver that Tonks didn't think was intended as an aid to walking. Behind him marched a younger goblin carrying a large, brass-bound ledger. As they reached the centre of the Courtroom, Tonks stood up and stepped away from the chair. Without glancing at it, Hengefast sat down and handed his younger colleague the staff, accepting the book in return. The chains on the chair seemed welded in place. With both hands on the staff, Griplock assumed a wary stance beside it.
'Have you the key?' asked Hengefast. There was a rifling through files and boxes and a key was produced and handed to the goblin who inserted it into a keyhole in the ledger's brasswork and turned it. The book fell open and Tonks could see Snape's name at the top of one of a small number of loose pages, a lace of metalwork obscuring and fastening closed the others. 'As of close of business yesterday, Severus Snape had ten Galleons in his account,' said Hengefast, 'the usual surpluses having been turned over to the Ministry of Magic.'
'Surpluses?' growled Scrimgour.
'The terms of Snape's release from Azkaban,' said Umbridge. 'He agreed to them.' The image of Snape's broken body flickered and disappeared from overhead. 'The remainder of Snape's salary went into Saint Mungo's funding.'
'I see,' said Scrimgour.
'And in this account?' said McLaggan, producing another key from his robes with the air of a muggle magician and offering it to Hengefast.
'Where did you get that?' Umbridge sprang to her feet, snarling.
'From the secret compartment in your desk while you were at Saint Mungo's being treated for trampling by sheep.' McLaggan smirked. 'When I discovered that Snape was retained by Saint Mungo's and that there was therefore a discrepancy in the accounts I started asking questions. I got some very interesting answers too. When I told him about the money unaccounted for, Moody told me about the bank key. He had no trouble at all getting in to it.'
'The sheep were trickier,' agreed Moody, casually turning his wand on the Auror in Chief.
Hengefast had closed the ledger, withdrawn the first key and inserted and turned the other.
'That is my account. You have no right!' said Umbridge.
'Indeed?' said Hengefast. Again, the book fell open. 'Payments into this account were made to a Mr. Severus Snape.' As the witch collapsed back onto her seat, the goblin smiled. 'This account is empty, all remaining funds having been withdrawn by the Ministry of Magic. If you look here you can see the amounts. Signed for by a D. Umbridge.'
Tonks took the ledger and carried it to the Minister, holding it open so he could read it. He leant forward. 'These are for thousands . . .'Scrimgour's mouth closed with a snap.
'Indeed,' said Hengefast. 'Payments from Saint Mungo's and the Ministry for Potions. More payments from Saint Mungo's for Patient Consultations. Professor Snape was an expert in both in the Dark Arts and in remedies against them. It all added up.'
Amidst a rising storm of righteous fury from both sides of the courtroom, Scrimgour raised one shaking hand to point at Umbridge. As Aurors homed in on her, he forced it back down to his side and Tonks turned away. Umbridge would be dealt with and Tonks training still held. Seek confirmation. Hengefast was standing very upright, leaning on his staff. Tonks bowed to the goblins and quickly handed Griplock the ledger. The body of a witch or wizard had value in places like Knockturn Alley. Or rather, various values. While it would be a nasty irony for Snape himself to end up as potions ingredients, it meant that there was still a chance.
Tonks' journey to the basement of Saint Mungo's was a blur. The Witch-in-Charge looked up from her desk to find Tonks leaning over her. 'What did you do with Professor Snape's body?' the Auror demanded.
'Disposed-of-it-according-to-the-new-Ministry-Protocols,' said the witch, sitting as far back in her chair as she could go.
'New Ministry Protocols?'
A whisper. 'Burning.'
'I suggest that you sold it.'
'N-no.'
'Professor Snape has been cleared and Umbridge has been arrested. I don't want to ask you again.' Tonks had rounded the desk and grasped hold of the witch's robes. She pulled her upwards. 'What did you do with him?'
'I did sell him.' Tonks let the witch drop and spun round to face a thin, dark-haired wizard who glared at her. 'Just as we were told to. Just not how we were told to.' The youth dropped his eyes to the white tiled floor. 'Professor Snape was our Head of House. You wouldn't understand.'
'Where is he?' Tonks asked softly.
'Draco Malfoy has him.'
Tonks looked down to see a long row of bright circles cast from windows set high in the wall above. Never before had she realised that there could be so many colours in an entirely white room. Marvelling she turned back to the young wizard. 'And who are you?' she asked.
His chin came back up. 'Theodore Knott.'
Very stiffly, Tonks nodded. 'Thank you, Mr. Knott.'
-
And thank you Duj.
