It had not been the most elegant of touchdowns.
Tonks hadn't quite appreciated how big she'd become as a dragon. She found herself flat on her back, sprawled over several of the coffins and staring up at the ceiling. There were, she noted, recesses for the boxes to fit into. Also obvious was that most of them were much too small for the ornate monstrosities that swung and clashed and, once, quite painfully, nipped her toes. They would have been very much less vulnerable tucked into the ceiling with only their iron bottoms exposed. Hubris, thought Tonks, "Pride comes before a fall" Although, with regard to pride, it might be as well to stop lying here like some overgrown oven ready turkey. Her flailing tale caught a coffin lid and sent it ringing down into the abyss.
'Oi,' yelled Malfoy. 'Have a care!'
No need to shout, thought Tonks. She could hear very well and, for a moment, it seemed that she could almost understand Potter's Parceltongue. Twisting and writhing she got herself upright and peered down.
'If you're quite comfortable up there?' Draco enquired and then smiled evilly. 'Minky! Minky, come here.'
Far below, a bald, bat-eared head snapped into being. If the house-elf was uneasy to find itself in the mausoleum it showed no sign of it, peering around and upwards, large eyes blinking. 'What can Minky do for the Master?'
'Minky can pass a message to my mother. You may tell her that, should anything untoward happen to me, it is my desire . . . no it was my dying wish that this mausoleum be turned over to Muggles for use as Theme Park.'
'Master?'
'Because with Bellatrix having tossed Sirius through the veil, and with Nymphadora having eaten her, my mother and my aunt are the last of the Blacks. Were Nymphadora and I to expire here, I hardly think that either of them would have any further use for this place.'
He raised his face to stare upwards into the darkness and Tonks could see his irritation growing. 'I owe Severus Snape a life debt and, anyway, that was my own bloody coffin,' he declared. 'The function of a mausoleum, your function, it to serve my family. Not to try and put an end to the few surviving members. So you can sort your bloody self out.' He glanced off to the side. 'And shut up, Potter. You're freaking me out.'
With one final modulated hiss, Potter shut up. Moments later, the torches began to change back and the floor began to rise.
'Hermione,' said Malfoy. 'Allow me to congratulate you.' He glanced at Weasley. 'I think.' He turned back to Granger. 'Perhaps you wouldn't mind telling me something? What is it that your people do exactly?'
'Pardon?'
'Your parents. What do they do for a living?'
'They're dentists.'
Malfoy looked blank for a second. 'Healers for teeth? Right. Is that seen as a respectable occupation?'
'Pardon?'
'More respectable than being a "male tart in skin tight trousers", for example?'
'It's a profession,' said Hermione, levelly.
Malfoy looked at her.
'The thing is - Goyle - you'll remember him from school? Well, Gregory is getting married. To Fiona Finch-Fletchly. A big, fat, Muggle wedding with a dress like a meringue, the church done out like a florist's and, quite possibly, a traditional punch-up afterwards. What I would like you and Potter to do, seeing as I have just saved your lives, is to attend that wedding and tell everyone what an utterly splendid chap he is.'
'Goyle and a muggleborn? How the fuck did that happen?' interrupted Weasley.
'Goyle and a Muggle, actually.' Malfoy sighed. 'Aunty Bella wanted him to, and I quote, "put down a mudblood"; so he went after Justin Finch-Fletchly at some sort of meet. Fiona is Justin's cousin and she found Goyle, somewhat the worse for wear and tear, in the car-park so she popped him in the horse-box and took him home.
'It turns out that one thing Goyle is good with is horses. And, because he was rather keen to stay out of Bella's way, when they asked him to stay, he did.
'Unfortunately, when he went home for his mum's birthday, there were people waiting for him. Fortunately, Nymphadora took care of that. Now, I want some nice, normal Muggle addresses for invitation to be sent to, and you will send back nice, normal Muggle acceptances and we will all attend and will, as previously discussed . . .'
'. . . tell them what an utterly splendid chap he is,' chorused Weasley and Granger.
Granger laughed. 'Ok, you're on.'
'Oh,' said Potter. 'Fine,'
'And Dora, do something with the hair.' From the walls, stairs were emerging. Malfoy was the first up them, before they were fully materialised, closely followed by Snape and the others.
As they disappeared into the tunnel entrance, Tonks, decided that it would be easier to extricate herself from the chains morphed to her smaller, human self, fell off or between the coffins, dropped back to her winged form, and spiralled down to follow them, deciding at the last moment that, yes, she really was that big, she morphed back just in time to catch the railing as she flew over it and land gracefully. Typically, with everyone else ahead of her, no-one saw any of it. Torchlight dying behind her, she hurried to catch up. 'Potter?' Potter stopped and waited. 'Something wrong?'
'No.' They climbed the stairs together.
He wasn't getting off that easily. 'Do you want to tell me what was so interesting with the snakes?'
Potter thought about it. 'Parts of this place go back almost as far as Hogwarts,' he ventured finally.
'And?'
'What the snakes said was that Slytherin didn't have any problem at all with muggleborn students. What he objected to was the removal of muggleborn witches and wizards from their parents. Just taking them as babies, or swapping them for fakes transfigured from logs of wood.'
'All those Muggle stories about changelings,' breathed Tonks.
'As soon as their names appeared in the book, they'd start looking.'
'So what happened?'
'Hufflepuff proposed a compromise: take those who performed magic before they turned seven; after that, just obliviate the kids and anyone else who'd seen anything.'
'And?'
'They wouldn't go for it. They wanted a large magical population and they believed that it would be better for the children themselves. They felt sorry for the parents but the magical children were more important. In the end Godric said that he'd accept the compromise, but only if Slytherin himself was prepared to give up Hogwarts, because that was what he'd be depriving the children of, and Ravenclaw agreed. They didn't think he'd do it.'
'That,' said Tonks, 'is a very different story.'
'Muggleborns did start school at seven, at first,' put in Granger. Tonks hadn't noticed that she and Potter were catching up. 'Supposedly, because it's so fragile, no one's touched the actual book in centuries. It's all done magically and most people suspect that's to protect squibs.' She glanced at Potter. 'No real person sends letters to a cupboard.'
'What do I do?' asked Potter.
'Nothing,' said Granger. 'And say nothing. Umbridge isn't the only one who'd like to see you mind wiped and dumped. Tonks, please.'
Tonks was forced to concede that Granger had a point. 'I'll think about that,' she said. Daylight and voices filtered down as the great doors to the tomb opened and Tonks speeded up.
There was a small crowd of people waiting outside. 'So,' began Rita Skeeter, 'Professor Snape, would you tell us in your own words how you feel about . . .' Snape disapparated. 'Ooh, a shy one,' chuckled Skeeter and vanished, followed by her photographer and some of the others.
'So, Draco,' said Narcissa Malfoy, 'if you would care to explain: what exactly is a Theme Park?' Slipping an arm around her son's shoulders she apparated him away. Granger flashed a small smile and departed in the arms of her lover. Very quickly Tonks found herself alone on the steps with her mother.
'Have you come to any agreement with Severus?' Andromeda enquired.
'Regarding?'
'Marriage. Obviously.'
'No.'
'Pity.' From the steps of the mausoleum, the view was exquisite; Tonks wondered if Andromeda could even see it. 'Snape is wealthy. Despite his youth, he has a standing offer of a Directorship at Saint Mungo's and, very shortly, he'll have a First Class Order of Merlin. From certain angles he's not all that bad looking.'
'He has a nasty temper and a devious streak a mile wide,' said Tonks.
'So would you have,' replied Andromeda. 'In short, Snape is a catch. And, unfortunately, now you're going to have competition for him. Never mind.' She smoothed down the heavy silk of her robes with a sound like steel being drawn from a sheath. 'Let us see what we can do.'
