Chapter 23: Dolores's Flaw in the Plan
Synopsis: Traps are set. Some fall victim, while others prevail.
Wednesday, March 15th, 1995. London.
London was bitterly cold. The torrential downpour that hadn't let up for close to two weeks had left the air frigid and difficult to navigate for the small red beetle. It flew closely above the heads of the many Londoners, taking refuge under their umbrellas. Occasionally, the beetle would fly out from under one of its temporary sanctuaries and fly in another direction.
Because this beetle had places to be.
The sky was a menacing dark grey. Reflecting quite well on the Beetle's motives.
The horn of a cab startled the beetle, that had been resting precariously on the shoulder of an aggravated man with an important telephone call. His wife couldn't make it to dinner tonight. Which was quite unfortunate seeing as the dinner was being held in his honour, apparently.
Such trivial matters meant nothing to the beetle, however, who flew off of its current transportation, which had stopped his movements to yell obscenities at the cab driver, and flew to another refuge.
Finally, it found its spot. A side alley filled with the putrid smell of disease, alcohol, and bodily fluids met the senses of the small beetle. It flew behind a dumpster before, in a dazzling flash of white light, there stood a woman in its place. She wore an acid green car coat with matching trousers. Her jeweled glasses were horrendous to all but her. Especially in that ghastly scarlet red.
She patted herself down needlessly and cast an impervious charm on her clothes and face. (Makeup was rather important when meeting with a high-ranking Ministry official.) She pulled out a small silver pocket watch and grinned at the reflection that shone back at her in its wonderfully polished and reflective interior.
Silver. Such a fascinating metal. It was so unassuming, but for some, it could spell disaster and pain. The power such an irrelevant item could have on the few who feared it.
She stepped out from under the fire escape and made her way out the alley.
'Where'd you come from, miss?' said a man who might once have been quite handsome, now disfigured with the time spent with substance abuse and neglect.
The woman ignored him and exited into the busy street. So many unassuming men and women. They knew nothing of what she knew. Information that could tear apart the world if she wished it.
She hurried through the rain. If the Londoners noticed that water seemed to avoid her body, they didn't say much of it. She ran her fingers along the decaying wood of the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron and smiled to herself. The door handle was slippery but she turned it with relative ease, stepping over the odd step that so many missed.
She moved like a cat through the tables and chairs that crowded the floor of the inn. The barman, Tom, waved as she passed. She noted with displeasure that the man's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. That called for further investigation, but her journalistic instinct had to be pushed to the back of her mind. For she had information that couldn't simply be used in a story. No. She had to bring this to the ones who could make a real difference.
It helped that the people who made a difference offered far better pay.
She entered one of the private rooms and sat herself down on the comfortable furniture. Portraits adorned the walls. Many focusing on famous Quidditch players or the odd singer.
It was so typical for the Ministry's busybodies to be late. They'd never cared much for anyone who worked such mundane jobs, such as the head reporter for the Daily Prophet.
The door to the private room swung open and the woman she had been waiting for stepped in.
She wore a fluffy pink cardigan, even in this weather, and a strange violet cap to match her skirt. Her toad-like face broke out into a welcoming smile, and Rita Skeeter reciprocated.
"I am quite sorry for my tardiness," Umbridge apologized.
"Not at all, Dolores," Rita brushed it off, "You work an important job for an important man! It is quite clear that you have every reason to be late to such an informal meeting,"
Umbridge gushed her thanks at the praise and sat down opposite Rita. She threaded her stubby fingers together and looked expectantly at Rita. "You contacted me with possible information to discredit Sirius Black?"
Straight to the point, Rita noted. It was ever so refreshing to deal with someone who didn't want to beat around the bush. "Yes, in fact, I do… but first, I'd like to ask you a little question… You know, to see if we're on the same page," said Rita in a rush.
Umbridge smirked and inclined her head for Rita to ask her question. "What do you think is the easiest way to get Sirius Black to fold?"
"Harry Potter," Umbridge replied, easily.
"Excellent," said Rita, taking a sip of the tea that had appeared on the table in front of them. "Then, I must say, we are both rather clever,"
Umbridge chuckled and waved her hand dismissively. "You were a Ravenclaw if I do remember correctly,"
Rita nodded, returning her cup to its saucer."Now, I am assuming that it was you who broke Dumbledore's sleeping charm at the Second Task?"
Umbridge's shoulders tightened and her eyes seemed to bore into Rita's. They stared at each other apprehensively for a long moment before Umbridge's face contorted into a tight-lipped smile. "Yes, though that was for more… personal means, than anything," she reached for the sugar bag and ignored the sugar spoon, choosing instead to hand pour the stuff into her tea, while adding milk at the same time. She tapped the edge of her cup with the tip of her wand and it instantly mixed. Bringing the cup to her lips, she took a long sip before lowering it to the table. Smacking her lips in apparent satisfaction. "Though, yes, that would have worked for Potter as well, it would have brought Dumbledore down a peg,"
Rita's interest was piqued. Her journalistic instinct had come smashing to the front of her mind once again. "Oh? And what aim does the senior undersecretary have against the headmaster," she asked passionately.
Umbridge's expression shifted ever so slightly and Rita knew she'd pushed too far. She leaned back in her seat and shook her head. "You don't need to answer that," she said feebly.
Umbridge nodded. "No, I do not."
The silence was thick with tension. Umbridge continued to drink her tea, while Rita fidgeted with her hands. "You brought me information?" Umbridge asked sweetly. It was clear that Rita would not be getting any insight into the inner workings of the Ministry today.
Rita's shoulder's slumped slightly but she forced the mask of excitement on her face and leaned forward to speak. "I heard first hand some rather… critical information on our young saviour…" Umbridge's smile grew wider and she stopped sipping her tea. "You see, I heard from a good friend of Harry's, Ronald Weasley," at the name Weasley, Umbridge's smile cracked to show its fair share of teeth. "that Harry Potter is, in fact, a werewolf."
Umbridge's eyes widened and she leaned forward in her chair, it creaked under the shift in weight and her jaw slackened. Her gaze drifted to a random spot on the table as she fell deep in thought. "This explains… so much," she said quietly, apparently to herself.
Rita hummed in agreement. "Now you can see why I wouldn't want to spread this across the tabloids," she said offhandedly.
Umbridge nodded dumbly. "Yes… yes, this is powerful information,"
Rita sat back and stared appraisingly at the woman before her. Contemplating whether or not there was any reason to share the next piece of information.
"There's more…" she began, and Umbridge's head shot up. Rita's lips curved into a feral grin. "But that'll come with a price,"
"You'll be getting paid, we'd already agreed on that," Umbridge sniffed. "And your animagus form will remain a secret,"
Rita rolled her eyes and stood from her armchair. She placed her hands delicately on the table and leaned against it. "You'll need more than gold and empty promises to get this information out of me, love,"
Umbridge scowled briefly but schooled her expression accordingly shortly thereafter. "And what else might you want?"
Rita bit her bottom lip. "I want some juicy news on our lovely Minister,"
Umbridge's face reddened. "You will not get a word out of me! My allegiances are to the Ministry, and the Ministry alone," she spat.
Rita's eyes widened in feigned shock. "Really?" she cried in outrage. Placing the tip of her left index on her chin. "So then what motive do you have to go after old Albus?"
"He is a threat to the Ministry," Umbridge said proudly. "He's after Cornelius's job,"
Rita scoffed and made her way to the exit. "Right, well, do what you will with the information I've given you, yes?"
Umbridge nodded. "Black will regret ever laying his hands on our laws," she said quietly.
Rita smirked. "And our press," she paused at the doorway, gently placing her hand against its frame. "Oh, and Dolores? Fudge's vote of no confidence… it's coming, isn't it?" she noted sweetly, before leaving a shocked and outraged Dolores Umbridge in the private tea room of the Leaky Cauldron.
Nymphadora Tonks was beginning to enjoy the press. Not for the attention, no, but for the fact that she found it absolutely hilarious.
It had been well over a month since the book's publication, and they were still selling like fiendfyre. She'd answered the same questions hundreds of times. Signed thousands upon thousands of copies, and had seen her face on the front of the Daily Prophet far too many times to count.
The reception was positive. The people screaming from the rooftops in anger were mostly drowned out by the influx of witches and wizards with genuinely good hearts who desired a change in their laws.
Unfortunately, Tonks didn't really think they were all being honest, but so far, Sirius's awareness plan had actually worked quite well.
Today would be the most important day in her and Sirius's press tour thus far. She'd be a guest on the wizarding wireless's most tuned-in show in Europe.
Gilderoy's Gloriously Gilded Galivants, hosted by the ex-professor himself, was an enormously popular source of entertainment and gossip for the Wizarding World. It had a full set of translation charms spread about the studio, allowing wizards and witches from all over the world to tune in and enjoy Lockhart's fascinatingly mesmerizing tones.
Apparently, his voice was rather attractive in Portuguese.
Tonight's show was an even bigger deal than usual. Today the show was launching support for pensive-radios. Simply apply a drop of pensive potion to the antenna, and prepare yourself for a motion-picture presentation of Lockhart's show.
It was new magic, recently developed and exploited by a sub-company of Nimbus.
Honestly, that corporation was monopolizing the entire Wizarding World.
Tonks was sitting in a room off-stage. A house elf was popping around, applying makeup and tending to Tonks's hair.
"Please, elf, I can take care of my own hair. I'm a metamorphmagus," she reminded the elf for the tenth time that hour.
"I know that miss, and you've got very nice powers, but you also have very nice hair. And it is Trinkles's job to make you presentable for the pensive-radios!" the elf spoke, soothingly.
Tonks sighed. "Can you at least let me choose the colour?"
The elf stared appraisingly at Tonks's reflection. "Yes, Miss," she concluded.
Tonks furrowed her brow and let her hair turn its shocking pink. "There, now, what length do you want to work with, Trinkles?"
The elf beamed at her. Tears formed at the edge of her large blue eyes. "Oh, miss is too kind. I like it shoulder length," she responded shyly.
Tonks grinned and lengthened her hair. "You're the expert!" she quipped, letting the elf finally get down to business.
Fitted in a comfortable, though rather revolting white cardigan, paired with a black skirt and knee-high socks. Tonks stepped into her red converse and smiled one last time at the elf. "You've been great, Trinkles, I hope you have a nice night."
The elf bit her lip and nodded her head. Her ears flapping excessively.
A knock sounded on her door and Tonks heard the stage manager call her name. Flattening the non-existent wrinkles on her skirt, she opened the door and followed the man out. "Now, Lockhart is going to call your name in some way, and you're going to walk straight on through there, alright?" he said, pointing to the red curtain in front of her. "We've got a live audience tonight, they'll clap and cheer and all that so… just be ready."
Tonks nodded without looking at the man.
"You'll do fine, darling, trust the process." with that, the man turned and left her there. Standing behind a curtain.
She could hear Lockhart going on and on about werewolves, the book itself, and its success. He compared it to his autobiography, even going as far as to say that it was "almost" as successful. Tonks had the charts for that, and she knew that their book was actually quite a bit more popular, but she ignored the satisfaction for now.
"Now, I'd like to invite tonight's guest on stage. You all know her! Merlin himself would recognize the name… Nymphadora Tonks!" the curtains moved aside and Tonks could see a magical camera pointed at her. She would have cringed at the use of her full name, but instead, she plastered a brilliant smile on her lips and walked on stage, waving to the crowd. There was Lockhart, standing behind his desk, clapping. He gestured for her to sit in the only available chair. And sat himself back down behind his desk. The clapping and cheering continued for a moment, and Lochart raised his hand in a gentle silencing action.
She felt it, then, the odd sense that something was… off. A spell had hit her senses when she sat in this chair. It was a ward of some sort. She'd been able to feel them ever since she was a young child. There was something cast on this chair.
"Welcome to the show!" Lockhart cried, shrugging his hands to the side in a welcoming gesture.
"It's such an honour to be here," Tonks gushed, using her metamorphmagus abilities to force herself to blush. "I've always been an avid listener… and an avid reader, of yours, but being here is just… well, it's incredible!" she said all this while leaning forward to rest her elbows on Lockhart's host desk.
Lockhart flashed her a spectacular smile. "Well, I do love to meet a fan!" he laughed at his own joke along with the audience. Tonks could only force herself to chuckle.
"I must admit, I'm a fan of yours myself. Your book was, honestly, captivating," the crowd hummed in mutual agreement. "Extraordinarily well written, emotional, and educational… honestly, it truly is one of the greatest works of literature in the modern age,"
Tonks smiled, dispelling the hopes that Remus would one day reap the reward from his excellent writing. He deserved the recognition. "That means a lot coming from the likes of you," Tonks replied kindly. "It really was a labour of love. We wanted to get the point across that these people, and that's what they are, people," she emphasized and the crowd began to clap again. "As I was saying, we needed to get people to understand the suffering these people have endured under our ancient, bigoted laws."
Lockhart nodded solemnly. "Well, if it is any consolation, I am one hundred and ten percent team werewolf, now." The crowd broke out into deafening applause and Tonks forced another smile.
"I am quite interested to know more about the process of writing the book. Your sources were quite in-depth, it seems… anything you can tell us about them?"
Tonks felt an odd pressure at the back of her mind to tell them Remus and Harry's names. But she rammed those thoughts down. So this was the ward placed on the chair. An honesty charm. Far simpler to fight than truth serum, though it was deceiving in its power. Yes, the big secrets were easier to push aside, but the little things could often slip up. She needed to be cautious. "There were two of them officially, and one of them off the books," she found herself saying.
Lockhart smiled. "Is that so? Tell us about them,"
Tonks looked out to the crowd, fighting the chair's wards. "I can't give you names, unfortunately," she said consolingly to the crowd. "But I can tell you a bit about them."
"Excellent!" Lockhart shouted in glee. "Let's hear it!" he sat forward in his seat, their hands almost touching on the tabletop.
"Our unofficial source is a… she's married to an old friend of mine, actually. She's pregnant, currently," the crowd lost their bloody minds and Tonks laughed.
"Oh! How far along!" cried Lockhart in excitement. He leaned forward enough and their hands touched. Tonks felt the magic flow through her and she stared at him. "He's polyjuiced!" coursed through her mind over and over. She quickly schooled her features and smiled.
"Seven months, I believe," complete guess on her part. She was basing this entirely on the assumption that Charlie had married Alyssa out of the blue in August.
Lockhart bowed his head in acknowledgment and Tonks once again had to wait for the crowd to shut the fuck up. "Yes, it is quite wonderful… a miracle, really, considering her condition and the people who must have turned their backs on her," she said emotionally.
A dramatic sigh of sadness resonated from the crowd and Tonks had to fight – quite literally battle – the urge to roll her eyes. "Our second source is that of a young teenager. He's got a lot of support and love around him, though, so he's handling it quite well. I can only hope that the world can change enough to allow him a bright future. He's a good kid," she once again, manipulated her powers to force herself to shed a tear. The crowd aww'd and Lockhart graciously handed her a tissue.
"Thanks," she murmured, concealing her smile.
"And what about the third?" Lockhart asked, conspiratorially.
Tonks hesitated. The ward was fighting her will ferociously now and she wondered if this imposter-Lockhart was personally strengthening them. "He's… he's a man in his thirties… He's an amazing person. Kind, generous, helpful… instructive… charming, in his own way. And ever so selfless. I've… I've grown rather attached to him, actually,"
She didn't need to use her powers to force her to blush. This time, it came naturally. She didn't want to admit this to the world at large.
"Attached, eh?" said Lockhart seductively. "Tell us about that…" the crowd egged her on and Tonks smiled awkwardly.
"Well, in the process of working on this release, we… well, we've gotten to spend quite a bit of time together," Tonks wondered if Remus was listening or not. She did secretly, up until now, harbour feelings for him. He was just… such a fantastic man. He cared so much that he'd put anything in front of him before helping himself. It was so unbelievably endearing that Tonks had a hard time not fancying him. "Fuck it," she thought. "Well, I think I've fallen in love with him," she said, the chair forcing that little detail out of her rather harshly.
Because it was a little detail at the end of the day. It was simply a word. That was the difference. The chair couldn't discern the incomprehensible dissimilarity in emotional weight the words 'love' and 'fancy' carried.
The crowd gasped and applauded. Tonks felt nothing but shame. She couldn't fight the chair enough, and it had even convinced her that it'd be a good idea to announce her well-kept secret. Let alone tell the world she loved him. She didn't need Remus to know that. She couldn't have Remus know that. He'd avoid her like the plague from now on, but Tonks craved his company. Not even romantically, it didn't have to be like that. She just… she loved him.
Lockhart was beaming and Tonks stared horrorstruck at her admission, covering her mouth with her left hand. "Well, that is shocking!" Lockhart jeered. "And ever so romantic. In love with a werewolf, well…"
"That isn't what defines him," Tonks interrupted. She couldn't allow the world to believe that it was his condition, his danger, that she loved about him. "He's… he's so much more than that. Honestly, I couldn't care less about his lycanthropy. He's... amazing, talented, kind… but he doesn't see any of it because he can't get passed his condition," she hated that she could feel pressure behind her eyes but pushed forward either way. "And when people like you," she pointed to Lockhart, and then to the crowd, "see him as nothing more than a werewolf, it does nothing but prove his insecurities. So, I beg all of you, that if you ever meet a werewolf, try and see past it. See passed it, and meet the man behind that.. furry little problem," she laughed lightly through wet eyes and the crowd followed. The emotion was beginning to seep into her voice and she didn't know what to do. The chair was most definitely forcing her hand, and she was completely out of control. The only thing she could still hold on to was Remus's name.
"So yes, I wrote a book about a bloody werewolf, and fell in love with him at the same time," she said, throwing her arms up into the air in defeat as the crowd lost their minds. Lockhart was clapping and Tonks just wanted to leave. She wanted to leave and never come back. But she'd learned long ago, training in the aurors that first year, that you never stand down from a case because of your own personal feelings. She needed to see this through. She just prayed that Lockhart would finish the show sooner rather than later.
"Well, I'd say that's a high note!" Lockhart cried in jubilation. "It was an absolute pleasure having you on the show today, Nymphadora. I hope it all works out for you and your furry little friend," he smirked and it made Tonks want to vomit. But her face was an imperceptible mask of emotional happiness.
"Thank you, Gilderoy," she said sweetly, accepting his offered hand and shaking it firmly. Once again feeling that familiar sense of Polyjuice tingle her palm.
She heard the magical camera shut off, the radios went silent, and it was just her, Lockhart, and the crowd.
Tonks wanted to confront this imposter. She wanted to find out what the hell had happened to the real Lockhart. But for once, she couldn't focus on her job. She'd report him to Scrimgeour later. Right now she needed to leave.
She left the stage before Lockhart could speak with her any longer. She swept behind the curtain and broke out into a run. Navigating the long hallways, trying not to trip over herself while she battled the raging emotions. She quickly rubbed her eyes, brushing back the tears that had slipped out. Her longer than usual hair flowing behind her only added to the dreaded sense that she was reacting like a teenage girl.
She finally made it to the exit and threw the door open. The second she walked passed the doorframe, feeling the wards it seemed only she could feel, she disapparated.
A resounding crack was heard through the countryside in Wiltshire. The sound of apparition coming from a trained auror was quite rare. Typically, it signified a lack of concentration and displayed a weak hold on one's emotions.
Tonks didn't care. She ran through the puddles and up to the muddy path that led to her childhood home. She saw it, an average-sized cottage in a small clump of trees. The familiarity she felt as she hopped over the fence filled her with a pleasant sort of nostalgia. Adding onto the bonfire of sentimental instability.
She marched up to the door but before she had even reached the first step it swung open.
Her mother stood there, her eyes glistening slightly, her hair tied up in a way that made it quite clear that she was not her eldest sister. She had a sympathetic smile and she held out her arms. "Oh, Dora,"
Tonks let out a sob and collapsed into her mum's arms. Andromeda slowly lowered herself to sit on the top step, cradling her daughter like a small child in her lap as she cried. She delicately ran her hands through Tonks's hair, murmuring soothing words as she slowly calmed down.
"The chair… the chair that I sat in," Tonks sniffed as she sobered up, drawing in a long breath. "It… it had an honesty ward on it. They're perfectly legal it's all in the small print but… I thought I could fight it," her voice cracked slightly and Andromeda held her face gently.
"I know, Dora. All of those talk shows have things like that… You were strong, you were!"
Tonks shook her head, pulling away from her mum's hands and sitting shoulder to shoulder. "He's going to hate me," Tonks whispered.
The wind picked up and blew her hair around her face. She hadn't had to deal with hair this long in years, and Andromeda chuckled. "Well, if he does hate you, he's not the one," Andromeda replied simply.
Tonks shook her head. "He's brilliant, mum,"
"You made that quite clear," Andromeda quipped. Tonks glared at her and she laughed. "Did you mean what you said?"
Tonks nodded. "That's the nature of an honesty ward… I hadn't meant to say that I loved him. I wasn't even aware of that fact myself," said Tonks glumly.
Andromeda sighed. The sound fell away with the wind. Further enforcing the silence. "So, what are you going to do about it?" Andromeda asked, finally.
Tonks groaned and fell back against the door. "I don't know. I just… I don't know. He hasn't given me any sign that he reciprocates my feelings and I just…" she threw her arms up in exasperation and slouched.
"Well," Andromeda began, "You love him," Tonks nodded. "You want to be with him?"
Tonks shook her head. "I'd love to… but I don't need to. I just want to be around him. I don't even need it to be romantic! I just… I love him,"
"You love him,"
"Should I talk to him?" Tonks asked hesitantly.
Andromeda frowned. "Who is he? Can you tell me?"
Tonks gaped at her mother for a moment before she broke into peels of laughter. Her mother had been left in the dark for so long. Merlin, she was so behind on everything. Part of that was Narcissa's fault, who insisted on speaking to Andromeda herself, even though she'd left it for months now. Tonks sobered and bit her lip. "It's Remus," she said quietly.
Andromeda's eyes widened, and she took a deep breath while looking away from her daughter, choosing to stare out into the darkened horizon. "Remus is a good man," she said slowly. "Do you think he can love you?"
Tonks frowned. That was an odd question. "If I can love him… I don't see why he couldn't love me. Anyone can love, mum. I just don't know if he's attracted to me or not,"
Andromeda sighed. "Not everyone can love, Dora. You, of all people, should know that. You hunt dark wizards!" her voice shrilled at the end of her sentence and Tonks laughed.
"Remus can love. You should see the way he talks about Harry… he's so bloody proud of him, mum, it's fantastic. And the way he just… he cares so much about everyone and everything and he's just, mum he's amazing…" she paused and cocked her head to the side, "Does he have severe self-loathing problems? Yes, but…" Andromeda laughed and Tonks grinned, shaking her head.
"You know him quite well if he's revealed flaws like that to you," said Andromeda quietly.
Tonks nodded stiffly.
Andromeda took hold of her daughter's hand and squeezed. "If you love him… you can help him. Like your father did for me."
Tonks nodded again, a small smile forming on her lips. "I love him."
Andromeda chuckled. "You've mentioned that, dear," Tonks shoved her mother's shoulder and shook her head.
"Can I sleep here, tonight?" Tonks asked softly.
Andromeda nodded. "You're always welcome here, Dora. Always."
Feeling another surge of emotion, Tonks stood up and sighed, blinking back tears. "Thanks, mum."
Potter Manor, Scotland.
Remus and Sirius had lapsed into an uneasy silence as Lockhart's show concluded. It had been nearly twenty minutes since Lockhart had bid farewell, and neither of them had said a word.
Sirius had summoned some muggle scotch after about five minutes of silence, and it had taken ten minutes before Remus had accepted some as well.
"I..."Sirius began, holding his mouth open and gaping like a fish before he shut it again. "I have nothing to say," he concluded, taking a sip from his glass.
Remus dropped his head in his hands and pulled at his hair, which had come in far better than it had been the year before. "I have... so very much to say," Remus mumbled into his hands.
Remus heard something drop on the table in front of him and he uncovered his eyes. Sirius had tossed him a muggle cigarette. Remus eyed it warily. "We aren't nineteen anymore, Sirius,"
Sirius grinned and brought an unlit cigarette to his lips, lighting it with the tip of his wand. He took a drag. "We're also raising a disaster child, but I'd say this, er, occasion, calls for some immaturity," he grinned and brought it back to his lips.
Remus scowled, lighting his, and mimicking Sirius's actions. "We aren't really raising him, at this point. He's raised himself for so long that he sees us as friends more than anything,"
Sirius bowed his head in acknowledgment. "True, but he'll come to us for certain things, I'm sure of it," another drag, "we've just got to be there,"
"Fuck this shit smells awful," Remus coughed and Sirius let out a bark of laughter. "I'd forgotten,"
They lapsed into more silence, though not nearly as uncomfortable as the first. Eventually, Sirius grew tired of ignoring the hippogriff in the room. "Do you love her?" he asked. Spectacularly nonchalantly.
Remus gaped at his friend before accepting that the game was up. He sat back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling, his head leaning over the back of the chair. He took a long drag and blew out the smoke to pass the time. "I have no idea," was his eventual reply. However untruthful it may be. "She's smart, young, eccentric, energetic, happy, has this completely ridiculous passion for solving riddles," he leaned forward and face Sirius head-on. "Like, who actively seeks out riddles? I couldn't name a soul... but she loves it. And she's good at them too. I think that's why her sense of humour is so... satisfying, I suppose. Her humour is smart, and it has a lot to it. You know, if you pick it apart," Sirius nodded slowly with one eyebrow raised.
"But I can't see why she'd see anything in me," Sirius scoffed and Remus shot a glare his way. "No, seriously. I'm a thirty-five-year-old teacher, she's practically fresh out of Hogwarts... and an auror, trained personally by Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody... What the hell have I got to offer?"
Sirius rolled his eyes. "Apparently, you've got quite a bit,"
"She thinks that... but how can she... how can she know that? I'm not her type, I'm just," Sirius reached forward and slapped Remus across the face, forcing the cigarette out of his mouth.
"You are such a twit. The question of why she fancies you is irrelevant. Clearly, she loves you if she admitted it over the bloody wireless," Sirius shouted.
Remus raised his eyebrows, eyes widening. "Exactly! It was on the wireless! She was trying to promote the book!" he cried as though he'd finally solved the answer to a particularly difficult arithmancy problem.
"SHE LOVES YOU, YOU STUPID SOD!" Sirius stood up from his chair to further his point. "The way she talks about you, the way she looks at you, the way she makes countless excuses just to be in the same room as you! Stop being so blind and insecure and accept that someone has fallen in love with you. Now, I repeat, do you love her?"
Remus was driven speechless at his friends outburst, leaning back against his chair and staring up at Sirius as though he'd grown three heads. Eventually, his shoulders slumped and he cast his eyes downward. "Yes," he replied feebly.
"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that?" intoned Sirius, leaning in and cupping his ear.
"I fancy Tonks,"
"Fancy?" Sirius pushed.
Remus sighed and stood up from the table, pushing his dram across the table in frustration. "Alright, Sirius, I love her. Is that what you want to hear?"
"Not particularly," answered Sirius, eyeing his fingernails.
"What?" Remus asked in exasperation
"I asked if you love her, and you're just saying it to appease me,"
Remus groaned. "How do I even know? How do I know if I love her? I've shagged ONE girl, Sirius. ONE. I am thirty-five, I had one semi-successful relationship when I was fifteen and have never been in love. How do I know?"
"Tell me about her," said Sirius simply. "How does she make you feel? What do you like about her? Because, you went on quite the tangent earlier, and I want to see what you have to say,"
Remus threw his arms up in embarrassed frustration. "She's brilliant. When you first gave the idea for the book and she asked to help me with it I was like, hmm, alright, I suppose I could use a second pair of hands, eyes, whatever the fuck you'd need to write a book. I always, always assumed I'd be a shit writer but here she is telling me I'm fantastic. Honestly, Sirius, she makes me feel alright. You know? She makes me feel like I can just live and be 'Remus Lupin: werewolf slash competent teacher.'" he quoted her trademark description of him.
"But then the more time I spend with her the more I sort of just... get used to her being around. I pick up on stuff, you know? She's clumsy because she's constantly analyzing the room around her from her nose up. So, she's never looking where her feet are going. He hair changes colour depending on her emotions. So, it goes turquoise when she's particularly happy, pink is her favourite aesthetically, red is self-explanatory..." he paused and eyed Sirius who was smirking at him. "It means anger," he filled in.
"I figured that one out for myself, thanks,"
Remus ignored him. "She can force herself to blush. It's hilarious. Oh, and she can make herself cry. It's gotten her out of loads of situations. She's funny, Sirius, like genuinely funny. Someone who can just liven up a room of depressed sales associates. She can fit in practically anywhere and has a confidence that, honestly, Padfoot, makes me jealous. I wish I could walk confidently like that. I just..." he paused and a strange expression of contemplation grew on his features. "But when I'm around her... when I'm around her, I don't need to fake anything. I can walk as confidently as she can. I feel... she makes me feel young again, Sirius," he said softly.
"I'm happy for you, Moony, really..." he reached up and dropped a hand on Remus's shoulder. "But how do you feel about her?"
Remus's eyes, which had been determinedly fixed on the floor for the majority of his rambling, shot up to meet Sirius's. His cheeks pinkened sightly and Sirius was reminded of the boy with the same scars running into the common room back in 1975 with a stupid grin on his face announcing to the Marauders that he'd actually gotten a date to that year's end-of-year ball. For all the time that had passed, Remus was still Remus.
"I love her," he said softly.
Sirius grinned. "Sorry?"
Remus's face broke out into a smile. "I love her," he repeated. He shook his head at himself and his eyes unfocused, staring off into space. Then, his features contorted into that of horror. "Merlin! I need to talk to her!"
Sirius howled with laughter and slapped Remus on the back. "Go find her!"
Remus ran to the back of his chair and wrapped his coat around himself. "I love her," he repeated.
"I KNOW!" Sirius practically shrieked. "Now go make sure she knows that!" Remus laughed like a schoolboy and threw the door open. He ran through the Entrance Hall and out onto Potter Manor's grounds. The night air was cold and the proximity to the full moon made his legs feel weaker than usual, but he made it passed the gates and caught his breath.
"Make sure you get straight to the point with her, alright?" Sirius hollered from the doors of the manor to the gates. Remus shot a white spark into the air from his wand in acknowledgment and took a deep steadying breath.
He felt lighter than he had in a long time. As though he'd broken through something that had been keeping him down. Still grinning like an idiot, he focused his attention on his destination, determined to arrive where he knew she'd be. Because whenever Tonks needed to talk something out, she went to her childhood home. Wand in hand, he turned on the spot with a light pop. Disapparating into the night.
Tonks was laying on the couch, her feet in her father's lap. She was staring at the ceiling with an emotionless mask and was trying not to think.
Because if she did, her thoughts would turn to Remus. And that was not something she wanted to do at the moment.
She needed to talk to him, she needed to apologize and maybe pretend as if it had never happened. Tell him that it was all for the book or something like that.
A small part of her was slightly miffed that he hadn't come and sought her out. She knew it was stupid. He didn't reciprocate her feelings, after all. But surely he'd have heard, or perhaps seen, that she was upset. A friend would comfort you after that, right?
"Maybe if you hadn't admitted your undying love to the poor bloke," she thought irritably.
There was a knock on the door. Her mother began to rise out of her seat, but Tonks needed a distraction. "I'll get it, mum," she said, rising to her feet and stretching her arms up over her head. She hoped she didn't appear as though she'd been crying all night. Not that she had, but it had only been maybe forty minutes since she'd come home to her mother.
She shook out her hair that she'd yet to morph back to her its typical length and reached for the door handle.
She pulled it open and froze. There he was, the one person she was putting off seeing. His cheeks were tinged pink, and his hands were tapping against his leg. He was smiling down at her sheepishly and he seemed rather embarrassed. "And absolutely adorable," she thought, guiltily.
The door opened and there she was. Her hair was its signature pink, but its style had lengthened. Her hair reached her shoulders and she... well she looked absolutely gorgeous. He realized right then and there that he probably should have brought flowers or something. Like those muggle films he'd watch after each time he'd been fired for unexplained absences.
"I... I probably should have..." he hesitated. He had absolutely no idea what to do. She just stared at him, her lips parted slightly as though she was amazed that he'd come. That it was him, Remus Lupin: Werewolf slash competent teacher that she'd wanted to see.
His eyes drifted to her lips for but a moment, and it was then that Remus Lupin pulled the most characteristically James Potter move of his life.
He reached out and pulled her in by the waist, flush against his body, and bent down and-
She took a step back, averting her eyes to the floor.
Remus drew back, confused.
"I- I can't, I'm sorry,"
Remus stared at her, his mouth parted. He blinked rapidly a few times and then cleared his throat, looking down and away. "Right... right, sorry," he stuffed his hands in his pockets and took a step back off the porch. "I'll just... go,"
He turned around and slowly walked away in a daze. He'd gone from feeling as light as a feather to feeling complete inner turmoil and collapse. Everything felt so inconsequential now. His confidence had never been so high, only to be shot down so aggressively.
His arm was wrenched from his pocket and he was spun around. It was Tonks, staring up at him. Remus just looked back at her.
"I... I'm sorry, for what I said... on the wireless... I wish I could take it back,"
It felt like being stabbed through the heart, only for the wielder to twist it for good measure.
"So that was all for show, then?" he asked hollowly.
Tonks's chin quivered and she looked down again. She was never this insecure, Remus noticed. Was he the one making her feel so uncomfortable?
"No... no I wasn't just saying that... I just know that you don't, and won't feel the same way and I don't want you to force yourself to out of pity or whatever the hell made you try and kiss me back there... I just... I don't want your pity I just want your company.. fuck that isn't... that isn't what I meant either, I'm sorry,"
Remus shifted on his feet, turning his body to face her properly. "So, you meant it?"
She nodded tearfully. "The chair had an honesty charm on it. I tried to fight it but I couldn't and it all came tumbling out and that isn't how I wanted you to find out and-"
Remus silenced her by planting his lips on hers. It had been an incredibly long time since Remus had kissed anyone, let alone fancied someone. But he knew, deep down, this was more than a passing fancy.
She didn't respond at first, instead just sitting there in apparent shock. Then, slowly, she responded to the kiss with far more passion than Remus had prepared for. She kissed him.
Quite thoroughly, in fact.
The moonlight shone down on them, Remus's arms wrapped securely around her waist, holding her to him, and Tonks responding in kind with her arms around his neck, drawing him in to deepen the kiss.
It could have been seconds or minutes or hours before they broke apart. It was one of those moments. Where you couldn't tell what was going on around you and that fact didn't particularly bother you.
Tonks stared up at him, her arms still wrapped loosely around his neck.
"If..." Remus hesitated. "If you need to know," he said cheekily, "I love you too. You know... so we're clear, on that front,"
Tonks threw her head back and laughed prettily. She sobered and smiled up at him. "That's good because I didn't just embarrass myself on the wireless just to have you fancy me,"
Remus chuckled and bowed his head down again to continue whatever fire had just re-ignited within his body.
Monday, March 20th, 1995. London.
Sirius raised his head from his desk – which he was currently snoozing on – when Umbridge burst through his office door.
Sirius broke out into a dreamy smile. "Afternoon, Dolores," he said pleasantly, bobbing his head with the words. "Tea?"
Umbridge felt herself break out into a smile. Yes, she'd have some of Back's infernal tea. She could suffer through it one last time. Because Sirius Black would be running out of this office with his tail tucked between his legs by the end of the hour, she suspected.
His charmed window displayed the somewhat depressing view of March in Muggle London. She sat in the offered chair and lifted her left leg over the other, so it was suspended at the knee 'How are you, Sirius?' she asked sweetly. She wanted to drag this out. Oh, how she wanted to watch the fire in his eyes die and be replaced by fear.
"Oh, it was mediocre until you got here," he said offhandedly. "You always seem to brighten up my day… I think it's your choice of wardrobe. Specifically, the colour," he smiled. Umbridge wasn't a complete idiot. She knew that was sarcasm and she took it as such.
"You shouldn't speak to me so… casually," she ground out.
"Oh?" Sirius replied in apparent shock. "And why is that so?"
Umbridge leaned forward, untangling her legs and sitting so that her head was hovering halfway over his desk. Her smile broadened. "Your precious godson," at the mention of Harry his expression instantly darkened and Umbridge could have laughed. "Is a bit loose-lipped around the press…"
Sirius stiffened, and she thought she heard a quiet click behind his desk. Perhaps his chair squeaking as he soon would be. She did laugh, now. Sirius's expression was truly one for the ages. He was gritting his teeth and glaring at her.
"Imagine how Cornelius will react once he finds out that your godson is a werewolf… oh dear we are in trouble, aren't we?" she said with a girlish giggle. "Rita heard the whole thing, you see… the only thing keeping her from going to the press is… well… me!" she interlocked her fingers and stared intently at Sirius.
"So, what is it you want me to do, exactly?" said Sirius in a dangerously low voice.
"You are going to leave this post, and never return. You will not interfere with the Ministry ever again, and you won't say a word against this administration for the rest of your hopefully numbered days." she laid it all out in front of him and he eyed her curiously for a moment.
"How did Rita find out, exactly?" Sirius asked, as though he hadn't heard her terms. "It's not like Harry goes flaunting his illegality around the school,"
Umbridge stood from her seat and closed the office door. She whirled back around to face Sirius. "Because, you belligerent fool, sometimes, people go above and beyond to get the information they need,"
Sirius quirked an eyebrow and nodded slowly. "So, did you get Skeeter to interrogate my godson? Did she administer truth serum?"
Umbridge rolled her eyes. "No, Black, she's an animagus. She can listen in on conversations with the source being none the wiser," she said absently.
She could have sworn she'd seen Sirius's lips quirk upwards, but it was gone in a flash. "Is she registered?" he asked with mock curiosity, "Because as far as I am aware… seeing as I'm the one who essentially heads this department… she isn't,"
Umbridge laughed. "As if that matters. Do you truly believe that a felony like that, something that isn't worth more than a minor fine, will come close to the laws you've broken by hiding your infected godson in Hogwarts? Harry Potter, a werewolf, will be front-page news for years! Your career is dead where you stand!"
Sirius's anger seemed to have faded considerably. He stared at her with a bored expression and said, "Right," rather contemptuously.
Umbridge wasn't done. She was jubilant at the moment. She just kept talking. "Do you really think that is the only time someone from the Ministry has broken a law succeed? I have done far greater things than spy on a beast, Sirius Black. Sometimes, you need to make the bigger decisions. For the greater good, you know,"
"Grindelwald's been rubbing off on you, eh?" said Sirius with a smirk. "I just knew your passion had to come from somewhere!"
Umbridge ignored him. "My allegiance is to the Ministry, and the Ministry alone," she scoffed. "You have to leave, yes, but that is only a step. A step in the right direction. Dumbledore's going to be out of the picture soon enough. They'll blame him for that charm breaking underwater. I'm sure of it!" she slammed her fist to the table and her beady eyes budged. "Get out of this office."
Sirius chuckled. "It was you, wasn't it? The one that broke Albus's charm?"
Umbridge tilted her chin in defiance. "Yes, but I know you won't go blabbing, will you, Black? Because if you do, the world will know the monster you are protecting!"
Sirius lifted a small grey object and clicked the side of it. There was a window on the front that seemed to hold two wheels inside of it. Sirius was grinning at her as though he'd just won the Daily Prophet Draw.
"Muggles are truly quite imaginative, don't you agree?" Sirius drawled. "It was the Germans who came up with it," he explained, standing from his own seat and flicking his wand to the office door. A blue glow appeared momentarily and Umbridge registered the use of silencing charms and a locking ward.
"See… you make a sound, speak, whatever it is, and these little holes, well, that is what you call a microphone. Do you know what that is, Dolores?"
Umbridge shook her head exasperatedly.
Sirius smiled sympathetically. "Didn't think so. Anyway, this microphone converts sound into an electrical signal, which produces a time-varying magnetic field in the gap of the magnet. As the tape moves past the recording head, the powder is magnetized in such a way that the tape carries a record of the electric signal."
Umbridge was growing impatient with all of these made-up words. "Get to the point, Black!" she screeched.
Sirius came close to her, his body was practically up against her, and he clicked the side of the device again. She heard Sirius's voice come from the holes. "It was you, wasn't it? The one who broke Albus's charm."
Then, to her horror, she heard her say exactly what she'd said. Clear as day, like the voice coming from a prophecy. "Yes, but I know you won't go blabbing, will you, Black? Because if you do, the world will know the monster you are protecting!"
Umbridge's eyes went wide and stared up at what she now realized was Sirius's considerable height. "Oh, and everything you said before that is also recorded quite clearly," Sirius added, taking a step away from her and seating himself on the edge of his table.
"You-" Umbridge stuttered before gathering her resolve. "I've still got incriminating evidence on you. It's recorded right there,"
Sirius bowed his head in acknowledgment. "Yes, but I have a feeling two counts of attempted murder may be a tad bit more serious," he paused and then shifted his expression into one of recently remembering something. "Oh, and using Ministry power to protect a woman breaking multiple laws may be frowned upon…"
Umbridge would have run out the door. Would have never spoken to him again. Accepting that they had mutual blackmail, and parting ways.
Except he had trapped her. He'd found a flaw in her plan and had exploited it masterfully. Her shoulders slumped and she glared at Sirius.
"Cornelius and I have a strong professional relationship," she said evenly. "We are quite friendly. Nothing you can do can get me out,"
Sirius raised his eyebrows and continued to throw that hateful smirk her way. "You think your position is in any way stable? I am the only reason Fudge is still in office. He would have been voted out months ago had I not publicly supported him. And do not act as though you are not well aware of that fact." Sirius stood again and walked around to the back of his desk. He waved his wand in a complicated password and his drawer opened. He reached inside and pulled out an enormous file. It was packed with parchment and small tags.
"I believe you may recognize this file," he began slowly. Umbridge tried to summon it, but the file remained firmly in his hands. "Anti-summoning runes. You'd know that if you'd taken the class," he walked back around and once again sat on his desk.
"This is a collection of werewolf legislation that, if passed, will secure Fudge's position as Minister in the minds of England's magical community for years to come. Do you really think you, his undersecretary, will be able to stop his power-hungry fingers from grabbing hold of this file?"
"Human rights aren't your department!" Umbridge cried in outrage. Her face heating from embarrassment, anger, and confusion.
"Oh, so now they're humans, eh? Interesting… You do know that us wizards are magical creatures…" he trailed off. "With these changes, well, it will be a part of my department," he waved the file in her face and his grin broadened even further. His perfect teeth shone in the lanternlight.
"Oh, and your little piece of blackmail will be… absolutely worthless by the end of the week, I expect."
Umbridge's anger flared, and she raised her wand. Sirius lazily flicked his wand and hers was wrenched out of her little fist and thrown into a corner. "You're delusional if you think that many laws can be passed in a week!" she shrieked.
Sirius stepped back towards the door to his office. "You'd be shocked to learn how fast things can change when a man is desperate enough," he said cheekily. "Fudge is dead without me… and so are you, Dolores,"
He flicked his wand once more, removing the wards on his door, and turned the knob. Just as he was about to open it, he turned to her. "Oh, and so long as you don't go sharing any of my godson's information, you can keep your job and your dignity. Where would we be without Fudge's puppet, eh?" he opened the door and swept out. Closing it delicately behind him.
Umbridge could do nothing but stare at the empty office. She'd worked for months. Careful planning on top of it all. And it had all come crashing down around her.
She'd find a way around this. Surely.
But nothing came to mind. She was, well and truly, beat. Though, she did still have knowledge of Potter's condition. And Black clearly didn't want it to get out, legal or not. Perhaps she still had a leg up on Sirius after all.
She walked to the corner of his office and picked her wand up off the floor. Turning on the spot, she strolled out of the office in a daze.
One day, she was going to destroy that man.
Wednesday, March 22nd, 1995. Vienna.
Charlie and Percy sat on a bench in a muggle plaza in Vienna with identical frowns. They'd been in Austria for a month. Together, they'd gone around multiple cities and towns with pictures of Bill in an attempt to locate their missing brother.
They'd had absolutely nothing come up until this morning when they'd received a note from an anonymous stranger with instructions to meet at this specific bench at four in the afternoon.
Well, they'd been there since four. It was now seven o'clock in the evening and Charlie was growing frustrated. It didn't help that Percy was constantly humming. Celestina Warbeck was a menace when she was supposed to be around. Percy's humming, ridiculously out of tune, was somehow far worse.
"Shut it," Charlied exclaimed. Finally having had enough.
Percy immediately stopped and turned his left wrist upwards to inspect his watch. He dropped his arm and sagged in his seat. "Why'd you make me stop?" he complained. "I can practically feel the time passing, now. And let me tell you, it is passing at a flobberworm's pace,"
"See, me personally, I feel as though the hourglass widened since you stopped your wailing,"
"I was humming, not wailing,"
Charlie grunted and folded his arms across his chest. They lapsed into an uneasy silence once more and they waited. The sun was setting, painting a beautiful collage of colours and shapes through the clouds.
"This could be a trap," Percy remarked idly, bringing up the one thing they had both been thinking all day but had never voiced.
Charlie let out a prolonged sigh. "I think it probably is, actually,"
"And we're just going to walk straight into it, I expect?" Percy voiced the phrase as a question, stamping down any fear that had risen at the thought.
"Well… At least we'll be where Bill is," said Charlie dispassionately. He continued watching the muggles mill around them. He'd been people-watching ever since they'd arrived at the bench. Waiting to see anything out of the ordinary. So far, he'd seen a fair share of homeless men, and the occasional concerned stare thrown in their direction, but other than that… there was nothing that stood out.
"Messrs Charlie and Percy?"
The two brothers whirled around to face the man who spoke to them. He was tall, wearing muggle clothing, and seemed perfectly ordinary
"Yes, that's us," said Percy stiffly, standing and offering his hand.
The man shook Percy's hand lightly and disengaged immediately. Charlie frowned. As much as he'd take the mickey out of Percy for caring about a handshake, it was truly a good judge of character.
The man stared at the two of them with an utter lack of emotion. "If you have any trackers on your person, we will kill you," he said in his monotone voice. Percy's eyes widened and Charlie clenched his jaw. "If you attempt to subdue me, or my assistants, we will kill you," it was at this moment that Charlie realized there were multiple men standing in a wide circle around them. This was the emissary. They were being brought to whoever had captured Bill. "If you attempt to flee, we will kill you. And lastly, if you, in any way shape, or form, attempt to make contact with an outsider, the consequences will be… most severe." the man flashed Percy and Charlie a toothy grin. There were prominent gaps on his lower jaw, but the upper was coated in gold.
"So this was a ploy, then?" Percy asked, attempting to seem aloof and act as though the outcome of this conversation was inconsequential. "This was all just a trap?"
The man turned his eyes to Percy and his smile broadened. "We knew you were looking for him, and after Alyssa contacted William… well," he chuckled, "Yes, you have walked into our trap,"
"How do you know Alyssa's name?" Charlie demanded angrily. He stepped forward and the man pulled out a silver dagger, its hilt was covered with thick leather.
"All will be revealed in due time," the man said calmly.
Percy surged forward, standing tall next to Charlie. It was rare that Percy could appear menacing, but he was, besides Bill, the tallest of the family. "Part of a trap is the element of surprise, and, seeing as we figured this was probably going to turn out poorly, it isn't much of a trap, is it?" he spat.
The man cocked an eyebrow, he shot a glance over Charlie's shoulder for just a moment and nodded before turning back to Charlie. "Then you wizards are far less intelligent than I remember," Charlie felt something strike his back and he lost consciousness. Percy fell by his side immediately after.
Of course, this went unnoticed by the muggles parading around the square. It was fascinating to see how powerful a notice-me-not charm can be.
"I honestly haven't a clue why Dumbledore continues to send me on these sorts of things," Newt blurted irritably as he strolled side by side with the limping Alastor Moody as they approached Vienna's central muggle train terminal. They'd arrived earlier that day after finally receiving the go-ahead from Dumbledore.
Moody grunted but didn't respond.
They continued in silence for an impossibly long time, but Moody seemed determined to find something. Any sign of the Weasley brothers.
After the third hour, the sun was setting, so Newt spoke up. "If you're looking for suggestions, I do have a few," he said, holding up his case as an offering. Moody eyed it warily before nodding. Newt dropped it to the floor in the middle of the street and flung the hinges open. He clicked his tongue a few times and out crawled a rather large niffler. Its colouration was similar to that of a paint-horse. "Get looking!" Newt called, using his wand to spray a sort of gold dust around the square. The niffler stared at him in apparent irritation and Newt sighed. "I said get looking!" the niffler obeyed, though rather disgruntledly.
"He's a right pain, that one," Newt commented idly, watching his creature do its work. "Had one in the last war… Teddy. She was brilliant,"
Moody acknowledged him with an 'ah' sound. "Hang on," he grunted, "When you refer to the last war, do you mean Grindelwald or Voldemort's first time around,"
Newt stared back at him in confusion. "Well seeing as it is very clear that Voldemort's war never concluded, I'd say I'd be referring to Grindelwald,"
"Right," acknowledged Moody. The niffler seemed to catch hold of something, and Newt ran over. Laying on the stone pavement was a small ball of some sort.
"Mothballs," Newt elaborated. "They're a muggle thing. Alyssa uses them. Her mum, my daughter-in-law, is a muggle, so… she grew up with both worlds, in a way,"
Moody grabbed the ball out of Newt's hands and stared at it with his magical blue eye. "So, this must belong to Charlie, then," he said after a prolonged inspection.
Newt sighed and snatched the ball out of Moody's hand. "Yes, it's Charlie's. But if you'd like a chance at finding them, you'll need my expertise."
"In case you've forgotten, Scamander, I have caught more dark wizards than you've revised that damn book. I'd say I know what I'm doing," growled Moody.
Newt rolled his eyes, tapping the ball with his wand delicately and watching it float ahead of them in a general direction. "You aurors are all the same," Newt grumbled, indicating to Moody that he had to follow the floating mothball. "I suppose it's what happens when you're indoctrinated into that 'Ministry Family'."
"Your brother did train me, after all," said Moody, thunking after the mothball with a pace that did a poor job in representing his age.
"Yes," Newt replied softly, "and it shows,"
The mothball quickened its pace, and the two men were forced to exert themselves quite a bit more than they had done in a long while. They walked through side streets and vendors. Nearly got hit by a muggle automobile a few times, until finally, the ball slowed, and began to track a target with heightened precision.
Then, quite suddenly, it sped off like a comet toward the West. They couldn't hope in catching it, the ball must have felt the apparition of its target and had made its way to them.
"Merlin's beard," Newt muttered in horror.
"What is it," Moody grumbled, he was taking long steadying breaths to hide the fact that the run after the mothball had taken quite a bit out of him.
"West… it flew West," Newt whispered.
"I can see that," Moody barked. "What does it… oh. Oh, dear,"
Newt nodded slowly.
"They've taken them to Nurmenguard, haven't they?" Moody asked needlessly. Then, he scowed. "What the bludgeoning hell does Grindelwald need with the Weasleys?"
Newt held no reply.
A/N: So, Remus and Tonks...
I had originally planned on really exploring their relationship and writing their growth and all that, but what ended up happening was OVERCOMPLICATION OF THE STORY. The fic got too big, and I needed to downsize. (Specifically with relationships. Plot-wise, the fic remains unchanged) We'd be at chapter 50 and not done the Triwizard Tournament if I'd have explored each relationship equally.
I hope that I've done a good job in describing that Remus and Tonks have been building their friendship over the course of the last seven months. The scene they got here was the culmination point if you will. This is honestly something I plan on expanding upon in a separate story that coincides with this one. Because I absolutely adore Remus/Tonks.
This fic is enormous in scope. It follows this ensemble cast through multiple subplots and events. But, for romance, this fic really only centers on Harry/Ginny and Ron/Daphne. Charlie and Alyssa get a lot as well, but it's a pre-established relationship, so it doesn't really count.
Do Remus and Tonks have their moments? Yes. But again, it isn't like the two pairings mentioned above.
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