"I, Harry Potter, hereby agree to the terms of the vow."
At first, Tonks wasn't entirely paying attention, as she was focused on sealing the spell. She would not attempt to fool them with a fake Vow, especially since Cane seemed to know the basics of how the spell worked.
Then the name registered with her.
Tonks pinched herself just to make sure she hadn't misheard. Perhaps a side effect of the pain spell was hallucinations. But then Cane took off the cloth around his face, and Tonks realized that her ears had not been deceiving her.
She still remembered that fateful day during her fourth year, when she had been sitting with her friends in the Great Hall, happily shoveling down her breakfast. As usual, the owls had flown in with the morning's copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in their talons, though Tonks had paid them little mind, as she had been relentlessly teasing one of the boys in her year. It was only the cries of horror around the hall that had finally drawn her attention. The entire front page had been covered with an image of Harry Potter's scarred, spectacled face, and it had been burned in her mind ever since. A single word had been plastered above the image: MISSING.
He had been nearly eight years old when he disappeared. And yet, although he was more than six years older and wore no spectacles, his face bore a striking resemblance to the photo that had graced the Prophet. His jawline carried the same features, and his eyes were still the same brilliant, striking shade of green. Yet it was the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead that clearly marked him as Harry Potter, the notorious twin brother of the Boy Who Lived.
"You were right. It is too hot for face coverings," he remarked idly, as he took off his strange cap. Tonks couldn't help but gawk as a wave of messy black hair spilled out, reaching only as far as his eyebrows.
"How?" she croaked.
Cane - Harry - ignored her and shoved Doom to the ground, as Cleaver quickly reapplied the paralysis spell everywhere but Doom's head.
Cleaver looked at Harry. "They know your name now, genius. How can we be certain that this Vow of theirs was cast correctly? What if she tricked us, and purposely botched the spell?"
"She didn't. I felt the Vow go into effect."
"But -"
"Enough. I know, and that's final. Get the other one up."
Cleaver snarled for a moment, before walking over to Gloom. Fortunately, it seemed Gloom had learned from his partner's mistake, as he made no attempt to fight them off. Cleaver shoved Gloom towards Harry, who immediately latched onto Gloom's right forearm. He turned to Tonks, simply stating "Proceed."
But Tonks didn't move, her gaze transfixed on him. "How?" she repeated breathlessly.
Harry's eyes narrowed. "Proceed. Now."
Tonks quickly placed her wand on the point where their arms intersected and focused on casting the spell. Harry, meanwhile, asked for Gloom's name.
"Jakob Alistair," Gloom grounded out.
If Harry picked up on Gloom's tone, he didn't say anything. "Will you, Jakob Alistair, do everything in your power to keep all aspects of this encounter an absolute secret from everyone?"
Gloom only stared straight at him. When it became clear he wouldn't answer, Harry sighed. "Comply, or else."
Still, Gloom remained silent. As Tonks expected, Cleaver quickly recast the pain spell. After a good twenty seconds, Gloom was dragged up, and Harry clamped down on his wrist with an iron grip. He repeated the question.
"I won't," Gloom spat. Tonks shook her head in disbelief, and Harry's face twisted in anger.
A minute later, after another round of debilitating torture, Harry impatiently repeated the question. And again was rebuffed. So they continued.
"You won't kill me, you've said so yourself," Gloom finally choked out after emptying the contents of his stomach for a second time. "And I refuse to swear myself to secrecy. The world needs to know what happened to you, where you've been, and what your connection to the Mare Bestia is, now more than ever." He immediately broke into a coughing fit after he had finished.
"The world will come to know of our return in time, Mister Alistair," Harry replied. "Just not yet. Now, agree to the Vow, or my friend here will use a spell far worse than the one you've been experiencing these last few minutes."
"I refuse," repeated Gloom. Tonks couldn't help but admire his infallible resolve.
"As you wish," Cleaver said, a hint of cruel excitement in his voice. He rolled up his left sleeve, before taking in a deep breath.
In a single motion, Cleaver raised his blade and sliced it clean across his forearm. Tonks flinched away as blood began to seep from the cut he had made. Cleaver, though, seemed unperturbed. He calmly pulled out a cloth from his pocket and used it to wipe off the blood from the serrated edge of the blade. When that was finished, he tossed the cloth aside, before closing his eyes and once again breathing deeply in.
Suddenly, the blood surged at Gloom, who tried in vain to scramble away. As if possessed by a malign spirit, Cleaver's blood began to circle Gloom, until it coalesced into an orb above his head. Tonks looked at Cleaver, and saw that his gray eyes were open now, and tinged with a maddening gleam of excitement. Then, the screaming began.
The opaque orb of blood had surrounded Gloom's head, encapsulating everything above his neck. For a moment, she compared him to a red lollipop, but that thought was a little too disturbing. Tonks hadn't thought it possible that anything could induce more agony than the spell she had just experienced. But judging by the volume of Gloom's screams, she realized she was wrong.
Harry approached him. "Your blood is currently being boiled from the inside out," he remarked nonchalantly. "My friend can maintain your blood at a temperature that won't kill you, while simultaneously making you feel like you are being burned alive by a flame hotter than the sun."
The orb suddenly disappeared, leaving Gloom a blubbering mess on the ground. Seeing a seasoned Unspeakable sobbing like a baby was unnerving, to say the least. Tonks looked at Cleaver in morbid trepidation and fascination. Who the hell was this person?
Cleaver dusted himself off, before striding over and forcing an unsteady Gloom to his feet. The moment he stepped away, Gloom immediately collapsed back to the ground, continuing to sob and moan uncontrollably. Tonks met Doom's eyes, and for once, she saw her own emotions reflected in them - unbridled fear.
Harry sighed. "You went too far. Keep him upright, and bring him here."
Cleaver obliged and hauled Gloom to where they were standing. Harry quickly reapplied his grip, and Tonks placed her wand on their joined arms.
"Will you, Jakob Alistair, do everything in your power to keep all aspects of this encounter an absolute secret from everyone?"
"I will," Gloom sobbed, his entire body spasming. A ring of fire wound its way around their arms, and Harry nodded in approval.
"And will you, Jakob Alistair, agree to never speak of or otherwise hint at this encounter in any way, shape, or form once we leave?"
"I will." Another band of flame formed.
"Good. I, Harry Potter, hereby agree to the terms of the vow."
Tonks made sure to vanish the bands, signifying that the Vow had gone into effect. Cleaver, who had pulled up his sleeve, quickly shoved Gloom back to the ground, before reapplying the paralysis spell.
Harry pointed at Tonks. "Now you. Get the other one up." Tonks swallowed her nerves as Cleaver freed Doom from the body bind. After Cleaver's latest demonstration, he wisely showed no signs of resistance.
"Your arm." Tonks dangled out her shaking right arm, and Harry quickly snatched onto it. The palm of his hand felt like it was one big callus.
Doom slowly lowered his wand to the point where their arms intersected. Tonks felt the telltale flow of magic, which signaled that the spell for the Vow was in effect.
"Your name?" Harry asked, staring intensely at her.
"Nymphadora Tonks."
"Will you, Nymphadora Tonks, do everything in your power to keep all aspects of this encounter an absolute secret from everyone?"
Tonks knew she had little choice. "I will." The thin tongue of flame appeared around them.
"And will you, Nymphadora Tonks, agree to never speak of or otherwise hint at this encounter in any way, shape, or form once we leave?"
With a flash of panic, Tonks realized her lie about using names in the Vow might be discovered if Doom immediately sealed the Vow after the last condition had been accepted. She quickly sent Doom a pleading look, praying that he picked up on her distress. Fortunately, Doom seemed to understand, as he gave her a discreet nod - though not before sending her another scornful look.
"I will."
"I, Harry Potter, hereby agree to the terms of the vow."
With that, the bands around their arms dissipated. The vow had been sealed, and this encounter was now bound to absolute secrecy.
Harry glanced at Cleaver. "It's done. You can take off that ridiculous cap now."
"You were just wearing the same exact cap," grumbled Cleaver.
"Yes, because it actually looked good on me." Tonks couldn't believe they were having such a casual exchange so soon after brutally torturing them.
Cleaver continued to grumble but said nothing else. He then walked over to one of the far stones, where Tonks could just make out a pair of leathery rucksacks. With his back turned to them, Cleaver took off his cap and the cloth around his face. He put both objects in his rucksack, before sauntering back towards them with a grace that was almost unnatural for one as gangly as him. As he approached, Tonks got a better look at his face.
His hair was extremely blonde, to the point where it almost looked white. It was cropped much shorter than Harry's had been, as it barely reached past his forehead. His facial features marked his youth - he couldn't have been much older than Harry, if indeed he was older at all. Beyond that, the shape of his face wasn't too distinct. Still, Tonks had a strange feeling that she had seen his face before.
It took a few moments, but she eventually remembered. Joe Thompson had been of a similar age to Harry when he had vanished. Consequently, the few photos that the Prophet had procured were of a young, eight-year-old boy. Yet, like Harry, the resemblance between those photos and the face in front of her was unmistakable, despite the six-year age difference.
Tonks couldn't quite believe what was happening. She had been stewing in her boredom for two months straight, begging for something interesting to happen. And now she was face to face with not one, but two ghosts. It seemed fate had heeded her call. Well, at least partially. She had definitely not wished to be captured and forced into an Unbreakable Vow.
"You're Joe Thompson," she declared.
Cleaver stopped in his tracks. Tonks noticed that the slightly unhinged twinkle in his gray eyes had all but disappeared, replaced by a softer, almost forlorn look.
"Yes." He shifted and turned towards the arch that had been vibrating earlier. "And no." He exchanged another glance with Harry.
Tonks barely had time to decipher that response before Joe spoke again. "How did you recognize me?"
Tonks wasn't sure whether or not she should lie. Joe Thompson was supposed to be a Muggle, and informing him about any aspect of Magical Britain might constitute a breach of the Statute of Secrecy. But unless Tonks' eyes had been playing tricks on her, he had just cast several spells.
"When it was discovered that you had also gone missing that night, both the Ministry and the Daily Prophet came to the conclusion that you were somehow associated with Harry's disappearance. They managed to uncover images of you and your family, and they began plastering them in every newspaper, missing poster, and wizarding broadcast they could get their hands on. Your face soon became common knowledge as a result." She paused. "As did those of Colin and Elizabeth Thompson."
Joe's face noticeably darkened, and a glint of anger returned to his eyes. He briefly opened his mouth, before closing it again.
"And what of David?" Joe grounded out at last.
"We honestly don't know. As I said before, the DMLE took custody of David Thompson the night you disappeared. What happened to him afterwards is a mystery, one that not even the Daily Prophet was able to solve," Doom contributed.
Joe's posture slackened. "I see."
Harry strode into the middle of the clearing. "Have you now mentioned everything that happened that night?"
"The identity of the attacker was never discovered, but besides that, yes," Tonks added.
Harry's expression immediately hardened. "Very well," he said, choosing to ignore her comment about the attacker. "Continue."
Tonks was confused. "But we already said everything we know about that night."
"And now you will fill us in on everything important that has occurred since that night, specifically in regards to this Big Fish."
"It's a long story," she protested.
"Then shorten it," said Joe.
"It's just . . . I don't know where to begin."
"You can start by describing what happened to my family." Harry spat out the last word as if it was poison.
Tonks took a moment to order her memories. "Keep in mind that I only know the information that was released to the public." She swallowed. "After the Bloody Solstice, The Wizengamot ruled that Lord and Lady Greengrass had acted recklessly and irresponsibly. As punishment, they lost custody over you and your brother." Harry's face twitched.
"Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore gained magical guardianship over you and Samuel. He sent your brother to live with the Weasley family, as due to his headmaster duties, he was too busy to look after Samuel by himself."
"Albus Dumbledore. The Weasleys." Harry twirled his cane in his palms, his eyes adopting a far-away look. "Ahh yes, I remember them, scheming snakes that they were. Always trying to divide us, to manipulate us. It serves my brother right that he ended up in their greedy little hands."
Tonks automatically ballooned in anger at hearing someone insult the Headmaster but thought better of it. Still, it shocked her that Harry spoke so disdainfully of his brother. The Boy Who Lived was the ideal student, the Gryffindor Golden Boy so to speak. And despite Lucius Malfoy's attempts to the contrary, the wizarding public still adored everything about young Samuel. Even though Dumbledore had recently lost custody over him, Sam was still a paragon of the future of light.
"And what of the Greengrasses?" Harry demanded.
"Lord Greengrass rebounded from the backlash over your disappearance. His voice is unfortunately still a prominent one in the Wizengamot. His daughters, Daphne and Astoria, are both attending Hogwarts. Daphne is beginning her fourth year today, while Astoria is beginning her second."
Harry's eyes narrowed as he ran a hand through his messy black hair. "I thought as much. Woe be it that the mighty Greengrass family suffer for their stupidity." He shook his head. "Tell us what happened with this Big Fish."
"After its initial impact, it was taken to the Department of Mysteries," Tonks continued. "The Ministry devoted the majority of its funds to the research of Stonehenge and the Big Fish, but the Unspeakables were unable to reach any concrete conclusions," she said, looking pointedly at the two Unspeakables across from her. Doom continued to gaze at nothing, while Gloom remained a mess.
"Instead, they found something else. About a year after the Solstice, the Unspeakables discovered that the Big Fish's blood was . . . special. It appeared to possess super-healing properties that could cure any ailment, be it physical or magical." Harry's face paled, but he did not interrupt.
"After some initially successful tests, the Unspeakables quickly organized a private demonstration for some of Magical Britain's most influential figures. At first, everything -"
"Where was this demonstration, and who was present?" interjected Harry, a note of trepidation in his voice.
"It took place in the Death Chamber, the room where both the Big Fish and the Veil of Death are located. If my memory of the report is correct, a few of those present included Amelia Bones, Lucius Malfoy, Minister Cornelius Fudge, Albus Dumbledore, and Severus Snape."
"Hmm. I recognize all those names, except for Severus Snape. Who is he?" Harry asked.
"He was Hogwarts' former potions master. Dumbledore brought him along so that he might gauge the results of the demonstration for himself. Apparently, he had a brilliant mind, although I can say that he was an absolutely terrible teacher.
"Anyways, the demonstration consisted of an Unspeakable injecting a beaten, crippled House Elf with the blood of the Big Fish. No forms of magical healing had healed the elf, for his injuries were the result of curses cast by the family he had previously been bonded to. Yet, within minutes, all of the elf's injuries were healed."
"The miracle blood," whispered Harry.
"It wasn't a miracle for long. Right after the elf had been healed, the Little Fish appeared."
"The Big Fish and the Little Fish. Such clever names," snarked Joe.
Tonks ignored him. "The memory from the lone surviving Unspeakable showed exactly what had happened. Some sort of humanoid creature emerged from inside the Big Fish's corpse, and it began attacking everyone in the chamber. Whatever it was, it apparently had some resistance to magic, as it slaughtered the majority of those present. It was finally weakened by the same House Elf that had just been healed, though the elf lost its life in the process. Severus Snape then proceeded to land the killing blow."
Joe's face slowly broke into a grin. "That's good. That's really, really good."
Harry soon had a smile to match Joe's, though Tonks noticed it was slightly more strained. "It seems our luck might finally be changing."
"What do you mean?" Tonks instinctively asked.
Their grins vanished just as quickly as they had formed. "Keep talking," rasped Joe.
"Um, yes. Of course. After killing the Little Fish, Snape almost immediately collapsed to the ground. The healers that arrived from St. Mungo's attempted to check on him - but they too collapsed. It was quickly established that touching Snape's body caused one to fall into a seemingly irreversible coma. The survivors left a team to guard the chamber, while they dealt with the aftermath of the attack.
"The next day, the Prophet broke the news of the incident to the public. Magical Britain had become more and more hysterical over the unsolved mystery of the Big Fish, especially since it was housed in the Ministry. And the Prophet's report lit the fuse, so to speak. A mob of wizards stormed into the Department of Mysteries, but instead of finding the Little Fish, the mob discovered an opaque, red ward surrounding the spot where Snape and the Little Fish's bodies had lain. After the mob had been cleared, the few Aurors that had been left on duty swore that no one had entered the chamber during the night, which left the ward's origin a mystery. Naturally, the Department of Mysteries launched a full-blown investigation. I couldn't tell you what they found, as I am no Unspeakable."
Harry turned to Doom. "You said you worked for the Department of Mysteries. What do you know about this ward?"
Doom lifted his head, knowing better than to resist. "The division that researched the ward discovered nothing about its origin or composition. Nor were they able to break it, despite their best efforts. Snape and the Little Fish's corpses have remained locked away behind the ward for over five years now."
"A blood ward," Harry stated. He looked nervously at Joe. "Do you think you could handle that?"
"There's only one way to find out," stated Joe.
Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair again. "And what of the healers that collapsed while checking Snape? Have they remained in this coma?"
"Yes," Doom said.
"Then the Nightmare has already formed, with Severus Snape as its host," said Joe. Harry nodded in agreement.
Nightmare? Host? Tonks tried and failed to interpret the hidden meaning behind their jargon.
"Let's be off then. Time is of the essence," Joe stated, turning to make for the stone where their rucksacks were.
"Not so fast. We can't just rush off blindly into the Ministry without fully understanding what has transpired these past six years. Death is permanent, remember?"
Joe scowled but did not dissent, instead returning to Harry's side.
"Continue your story."
This time, Doom cleared his throat. "The Department of Mysteries continued their research into the blood of the Mare Bestia by testing its effects on humans. About a year after the Emergence, as the attack in the Death Chamber came to be called, the new Head Unspeakable, Michael Brandon, presented the results of their research in front of the entire Wizengamot. At first, there was serious doubt over their findings. But when Frank and Alice Longbottom walked into the council chambers, healthy and hale, any and all doubts vanished. The Longbottoms themselves revealed that they had been receiving blood transfusions over the past year and that they were mentally, as well as physically, fit. The Wizengamot then convened and voted to establish a new Ministry department to oversee the storage and administration of the blood. This department was called the Department of Blood Ministration."
Harry's face was now a deathly white. Joe, meanwhile, burst out laughing.
"You think this is funny?" snarled Harry.
"No. I think it's hilarious. I am quite simply amazed at how universally stupid people can be. Even those from your precious little magic world," Joe replied.
Harry's eyes briefly flashed in anger, before settling. "We both know that's not you talking. Try to fight it."
Joe remained silent for a few seconds, before nodding in resignation. "Yeah. Sorry."
"You've had to deal with me for the past six years, you have nothing to be sorry for."
Tonks didn't even try to decipher the meaning of their latest back-and-forth. Harry, who still looked uneasy, gestured for Doom to continue.
"Lucius Malfoy was subsequently elected as the head of the new Department. In the years that followed, everyone wanted access to the blood, for it healed virtually everything - even ailments that traditional magic healing could not alleviate. It also provided a brief, yet powerful magical high. Malfoy cleverly leveraged these desires to build up both his personal status and the power of his fledgling department. Now, the DOBM is easily the most influential department in the Ministry."
Harry was actually trembling now. "Have they started?" he asked breathlessly.
"Has what started?" Tonks asked.
"The sickness. The transformations. The Scourge." He emphasized the last word with such fear in his voice that even Tonks found herself trembling. More so than she already was, at least.
"What are you talking about?" was all she could muster.
Harry visibly exhaled in relief. "Good, good. Then perhaps we still have a chance to stop it before it begins."
"We can't, Harry. Not until we finish our task," Joe said.
"I will not let this world fall into ruin!" Harry seethed.
"Nor will I. But you and I both know that we must complete the task. Until we do so, our power to help will be extremely limited. Just look at how vague we have to be to even communicate around other people!"
Harry seemed to mull that over, before reaching a decision. "You're right. The burden must be lifted." He slammed his cane into the ground as if planting a stake. "And then, we will save this world." He turned back to Doom.
"Final questions," he stated. "How could one break into the Department of Mysteries?"
"You can't. After the mob stormed into the Department, the lone entrance has been guarded by at least eight wizards at all times. There is no possible way that any non-Unspeakable could get in without express clearance from either the Minister, the Chief Warlock, or the Head Unspeakable."
Joe nodded. "And how do Unspeakables gain entry?"
Doom averted his gaze.
Joe flicked his fingers, causing a sprawled-out Gloom to release another deafening groan of pain. "Don't make me ask again."
Doom sighed in defeat. "We verify our identity at the entrance using an ID card, a facial scan, and a personal password."
"You're not saying everything," declared Joe, immediately after Doom had stopped.
Doom attempted to put on a brave face, but Joe's accusatory expression stayed constant. Doom eventually slumped his shoulders. "How did you know?"
"What are you hiding?" Joe repeated, ignoring Doom's question.
"There is also a check for polyjuice potions, to ensure that no one can enter by disguising themselves as an Unspeakable," Doom said resignedly.
"Mhmm. And you were hoping that we'd be caught during this check, weren't you? No matter. We'll find a way, I can promise you that," Harry said. He paused, thinking about his next question. "I take it you three have been assigned to continue the research of Stonehenge?"
Tonks and Doom nodded.
"I must say I am surprised there are not more of you."
"The Unspeakables have other, more pressing projects now. The ward, the blood, and the Big Fish to name a few. Research on Stonehenge has yielded nothing these past 6 years, hence the cutdown on Unspeakables and Aurors assigned to it," Doom said.
"Very well. One last question, and then we'll be off." He fiddled with the handle of his cane, looking slightly embarrassed. "In what direction is London?"
Tonks pointed northeast. "That way."
Harry turned to Joe. "Let's go. You get our bags. I'll keep a watch over them."
Joe grumbled something under his breath but headed off to collect their rucksacks. Harry, meanwhile, settled himself down on the grass, that far-away look returning to his eyes. From this close, Tonks could clearly make out the contours of his lightning-shaped scar. If she had had any lingering doubts, they were now erased. This truly was Harry Potter. The Boy Who Vanished.
"What happened to you?" she asked softly.
At first, Harry was unresponsive. But after a few moments, he sighed and straightened his shoulders.
"I can't tell you, Miss Tonks. Not even if I -" he seemed to struggle to say something, before exhaling in frustration. "I can't tell you," he repeated, slightly choked up.
"Why can't you tell us?" Tonks pushed.
Harry stayed silent, but met her gaze with his own. Tonks tried to study his eyes, looking for any hidden details in them. One thing immediately jumped out to her: despite their brilliance, his eyes carried a certain dullness. A world-weariness.
Tonks began to formulate another question, believing she was starting to make a crack in his proverbial armor. Unfortunately, Joe chose that moment to return, a rucksack hefted on either shoulder.
"Up you get," he said, helping Harry to his feet. Harry proceeded to grab the second rucksack, slinging it over his shoulders.
Without another word, they immediately began striding in the direction that Tonks had pointed. She quickly got to her feet. "Wait!"
Joe continued as if he had not heard her, but Harry spun around after a moment's deliberation. "I am sorry for all this," he stated simply. He started to walk again, and Tonks realized her time with him was almost up. So, she asked the one question that seemed most important.
"You looked afraid when we mentioned the blood and the DOBM. Do you know something about them?"
Harry stopped in his tracks and met her gaze once more. This time, Tonks identified a haunted look in his eyes.
"Fear the old blood," he whispered. Then he turned, following Joe in the direction she had pointed them. Soon, they crested a hill and were gone.