O
EOS
Dawn
Dom and Roxanne took a break from studying on the Sunday afternoon to accompany Hope down to the beach. After exhausting speculation on how the Ministry was dealing with The Crow and the curse, Hope filled them in on the upset at the Potters the day before.
"Why is James so mean to Al?" she finished. "He is so much nicer to everyone else in the family."
"I don't think he realises that what he says actually bothers Al," Dom sighed. "It's all a joke to him. It doesn't excuse it though."
"Al doesn't stand up for himself," Roxanne said. "Sounds harsh, but it's true. James is a prick but he's got a heart deep down and he's not a child anymore. If Al just turned round and said "you're genuinely upsetting me, please leave me alone" then they'd get on OK."
"Not everyone has your confidence, Rox." Dom reminded her.
You could say that again, Hope thought, smiling across as Roxanne shook back her long hair - braided today - and shrugged in response to Dom's comment. Hope often wished she possessed a fraction of her friend's self assurance. Surely if she did, she wouldn't spend half her time agonising over past actions, fretting whether she'd said or done the right thing.
The air cooled quickly as expected for early April, and all too soon the three of them were making there way up cliffs. Roxanne gave them both a hug before disapparating, and Hope turned to Dom.
"I'm guessing you'll be busy with revision all this week?"
"Mostly. Come for dinner tonight though? Louis would love to see you."
Hope accepted, grateful for any chance to spend with Dom without feeling guilty about keeping her from revision, and glad that Dom hadn't asked her to study with them again. Her excuse of "I work better on my own" would not hold up for much longer if she received detentions in all subjects for lack of homework submission upon returning to school.
Fleur was already preparing a delicious smelling bean stew when they got through the door while Louis chattered away to her in French from his seat at the kitchen table. Hope knew that out of politeness they would revert to English now she was there, but she always loved hearing the family speak in their second language. Louis was completely bilingual but even Dom and Victoire spoke French fluently, as Fleur had insisted on conversing with her children in her mother tongue since their birth. When they went over to see Gabrielle in France, English was strictly forbidden so they didn't lose their language skills.
Louis rose at once to give Hope a fierce hug. He had grown since Christmas and cut his hair shorter so that it no longer flopped down past his forehead. The effect was incredibly striking, showing off his high cheekbones and huge blue eyes, so like his mother's and his eldest sister's. Hope knew how much Dom yearned to have the Veela colouring that was so evident in her siblings. And yet - Hope studied her best friend as they helped Fleur to lay the table - in her opinion, Dom was the most beautiful of them all, her features soft, her eyes bright brown, large freckles smattered across her nose, her red hair, carefully grown out for the past seven years, now curling all the way down her back. She wished Dom could see it herself.
"Hope?" Dom clicked a couple of fingers in front of her face. She had zoned out entirely. "What you thinking about?"
If only she could tell her, but Dom was quite as awkward as Hope on the subject of appearance, and the last thing Hope wanted was to make her uncomfortable. How awful if she told her the truth only to come across as patronising or pitying.
"Just thinking that you need to start teaching me French," she improvised, and Dom laughed. They'd been having this conversation for years and nice idea as it was in theory, it had proved impossible uphold in practice.
"I wish they taught French at Hogwarts," Hope grumbled. "It would be way more useful than Ancient Runes."
"There is actually talk of introducing languages to the curriculum." Bill had come into the kitchen in time to hear the end of this conversation. "The Hogwarts syllabus hasn't changed in centuries, and the current thinking is that some of the subjects are outdated, and languages - for example - would be a useful addition. I don't think it will happen while you're still at Hogwarts though," he finished with a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.
"Great," she said. "So I'm stuck with Batty old Babbling for the next two and a half years taking a subject I will never be able to have a conversation in." She ignored the niggle in the back of her mind, recalling that her parents and Teddy had tried to warn her that Arithmancy or even Muggle Studies would be a better choice of optional subject. As per usual, her stubbornness had born out and she was now thinking they may have been right. Not that she would ever admit it.
"Is Vic not coming home for dinner?" Louis enquired, noticing the table had only been laid for five.
"With Teddy tonight," Dom shrugged. "She'll probably stay over with him."
Louis's neat, pointed nose wrinkled with distaste at the subject, while Bill and Fleur appeared unconcerned by Dom's response. Hope pondered this, realising that she never been able to pinpoint when their parents had relaxed the rule of no staying over. She wondered if Adam would ever be allowed to stay over, then gulped at the thought. Much as she was looking forward to seeing him again, she was definitely not ready for that.
O
For the first half of the week, Hope was on tenterhooks each morning, hoping for a message from Adam confirming the meet up he had suggested at the end of term. None came. Each morning she dithered, wondering if she should message him, conjuring up her two best friends in front of her for advice. Imaginary Dom said yes, of course, because Adam was her boyfriend and they had equal rights to suggest meeting up. Imaginary Roxanne said screw Adam, he had to make an effort and she shouldn't appear needy.
Hope didn't want to seem needy. She didn't message from her end.
As is often the way of the world, the moment you stop expecting something, it comes about. Friday midday, Hope decided to make her peace with not seeing Adam that holiday. Not ten minutes later, his pretty little brown owl appeared at her window, bearing a hastily scribbled note.
Hey Hope,
Want to hang out tomorrow in Diagon Alley? Can meet at the Leaky Cauldron at midday?
Adam x
Determined not to dwell on whether he was asking this late because no better offer had come along, Hope confirmed, then pondered how to casually let her parents know she would be out for lunch the following day. She hadn't mentioned the boyfriend word yet and they may be annoyed that she wasn't studying, particularly if they found out that five pages of impeccable doodles was the only product of the hours holed up in her room so far.
In a stroke of convenience, her father needed a package of research articles delivering to the Neville, and no sooner had Hope mumbled something about going to Diagon Alley to pick up school supplies, she found herself with full permission to go and able to do her father a favour in the process. Armed with a package full of texts and the comforting knowledge that the boyfriend topic could stay secret for now, Hope set off through the Floo, dressed in her best I haven't made an effort but I want to look nice outfit - a pair of dark jeans and knitted green cardigan.
Neville, on his weekend off from Hogwarts duty and helping Hannah set up for the lunchtime rush at the pub, was delighted with the papers.
"I only mentioned them in passing," he laughed, opening up the package to inspect it. "I was meaning to write to him to ask and he's beaten me to it. Your Dad is a gem, Hope, honestly. You didn't come down here especially for this, did you?"
"Oh, no, actually I-" Hope felt she had to be honest. "I'm meeting Adam here at midday."
"You guys are too cute," Michael grinned. He had ambled over to say hello as well and Hope shot him a suspicious stare, wondering if he was taking the piss. His smile was genuine.
"Couple of the school, from what I hear," Neville chipped in.
"Oh Dad, don't be so embarrassing," Michael groaned. "Teachers aren't supposed to know about students' personal lives, remember."
"My son, it would amaze you what we teachers hear through the grapevine." Neville took the hint and went back to helping his wife, while Hope perched on a barstool next to Michael to wait for Adam.
"Wow, you can see everything in the pub from here!" she said, craning her neck to look around. From her new vantage point she now had a clear view of the passage from the Floo exit to the Diagon Alley courtyard, through which there was almost incessant footfall. She had full sight of the bar, where customers were now congregating to get their lunch orders in. Not only that, she could see through the big glass window through to the neat back garden of the bar. A few people were occupying the tables, as it was a warm day.
"I know!" Michael said. "Sometimes I come down to people watch. More than I should, but it's good to take a break from homework. You pick up on all sorts of habits that people have."
Urgh. Homework. At least it wasn't the dreaded R word. Hope wondered if he was about to ask, but Michael was looking over to the fireplace. "For instance, see that guy in the blue robes."
"Yeah."
"He comes through the floo every day at this time, goes through the Diagon Alley and comes back half an hour later with a giant Whitby's box."
"Pizza every day for lunch... how healthy."
"More like expensive! He must be loaded."
"Maybe he gets them free for some reason."
Hope enjoyed the mindless chatter as they continued to watch the people passing through the pub or sitting outside. They could see through the window that a harassed looking mother was trying to get her howling twins to share a bowl of chips. One of them smacked the table and a huge blob of tomato sauce hit the mother straight between the eyes. Feeling mean for the swell of giggles that bubbled inside her, Hope averted her gaze.
To her displeasure, Kirstin and Elodie Carmichael appeared next, Kirstin pale and huddled in a giant travelling cloak and Elodie with her mouth set in a thin line. They passed right by the bar, disappeared into the bathroom for five minutes, then left the pub through the muggle entrance. Elodie rolled her eyes as she passed Hope, but otherwise made no comment at all.
"Wonder what's up with her," Hope mused. "She didn't even bother to sneer at me, let alone call me Hopeless."
She didn't register Michael's murmured response. Her eyes kept drifting to the clock. It was five to twelve. Surely Adam would appear soon.
Twelve o'clock hit and there was no sign of him. Michael kept up an easy flow of chatter, to which Hope responded on autopilot, but her insides were shrivelling. Was Adam going to stand her up? Here of all places? And she would have to face the pitying kindness of Neville and Michael. Why had she told them the exact time they were meeting? She could have invented an excuse about nipping to the shops, made her leave, disguised herself as a stranger and come back through the floo to go home and wallow in her humiliation. No one would have ever known.
Yes. A perfect plan. Unfortunately, you told them the exact time and meeting place for your date, so now you're stuck here looking like a complete melon.
Twelve ten struck. Then twelve fifteen. Twelve twenty. Hope was concocting a mental plan of escape when -
"Hope!"
Thank. God. For. That.
Adam was hurrying across the pub, looking harassed. Michael melted away once. "I'll get back to work, nice chatting Hope - have fun!"
"Thanks!"
"I'm so sorry," Adam said, reaching her. "I'm late and on top of that I can't even stay. Had a bit of a family emergency. Nothing terrible -" he added quickly, as Hope's mouth dropped. "My gran in Wales had a fall. She's fine, by the sound of it, but we got a message from my aunt and Dad feels he has to go and spend some time with her. He gets a lot of grief from his sisters for not being around for Gran, especially after living in America all those years... you know how it is with family drama."
Not exactly, but she could at least imagine.
"Yeah, sure."
"I said I'd go with him for moral support. I'm really sorry though, we're leaving in like ten minutes and I'll be gone for a week."
"No, that's OK!" He appeared genuinely distressed about her reaction, which was comforting.
"Next weekend instead? Just before going back to school?"
"Sounds great."
He beamed, and to her surprise - given the public nature of their current location - pulled her into a strong hug and gave her a kiss before rushing off again.
Considering it had been the shortest date in history, it had improved her mood tenfold.
O
Emboldened by the signs that Adam did care about her feelings, as well as the entertaining chat with the Longbottoms, Hope found a bit of motivation when she got home to dig out her Potions homework and start the practice exam question Leppard had set for the holidays. Her resolve began melting away the second she began and Teddy and Victoire came home at four thirty to find her stabbing moodily at her parchment, unable to string the information she had selected into coherent sentences.
"What's up Dope?" Teddy ruffled her hear and she swatted his hand away.
"I. Don't. Understand. Potions." Each word was accompanied by a further quill puncture and Teddy prised it from her grip with gentle reproach, peering over her shoulder.
"The properties of lobalug venom in relation to memory potions. Look, I'll give you a hand when I've finished my work prep, OK? Or Vic might even be able to help you now."
Guilt besieged her immediately. As if Victoire did not have enough to worry about, without having to babysit her through potions work that a pygmy puff could probably understand. She mumbled something of the sort, but Vic insisted it was no trouble and so while Teddy disappeared off to finish his report she sat down next to Hope and read what she had written.
"This is a really good start," she said, in what Hope assumed was a tactful but blatant lie. "You're right about how lobalug venom is extracted, although you could be a bit more detailed on the process. Also, maybe revisit what you've written here where you mention Mnemosynic. You've said that it's the first memory potion used for the general public, but there was actually one that came before it called Elixir of Oblivion. It would be relevant to mention that in your essay, even though lobalug venom isn't an ingredient. In Mnemosynic, the lobalug venom is the main factor in counterbalancing toxicity of other ingredients, and that was the reason it was added to the concoction when they amended the Elixir recipe."
Hope dutifully scribbled it down, then looked in desolation at what she had written.
"I still don't understand," she mumbled. "I get all the individual words but when it's put together it means nothing to me. Like what does counterbalance toxicity mean? How does it do that?"
"Let me draw it out for you," Victoire suggested. She took the quill and a scrap piece of paper and drew what looked like several triangles with teeth, before explaining, slowly and carefully, how lobalug venom absorbed the other toxins into its particles without permitting them to escape.
"The poison gets encased inside so it doesn't harm anyone who takes the potion. Like an invisible cherry pip, I guess. Cherry pips are filled with poisonous substance, but if you accidentally swallowed one the shell is non-digestible so the poison wouldn't harm you."
"That actually does make sense. I wish you were my potions teacher."
Victoire laughed.
"Thank you, but I'd be a terrible teacher, Hope. Not enough patience."
Her smile was sad and Hope felt she had to ask the inevitable.
"Are you... OK?"
"Not really," she said. "I will be. I've got a lot of support and I'll have a phased return to work. In a way I wish I could go back now to keep my mind off everything."
The reply was frank and unemotional, neither a plea for sympathy nor a dismissal of her suffering, and when she had finished talking Hope through the potions essay and offered to help her with other homework throughout the coming week, Hope didn't refuse the offer as she had with Dom and Roxanne. Victoire needed a distraction, and she needed help with the work. It would be foolish to turn down such a mutually beneficial arrangement.
o
"Victoire says she's been helping you with your essays all week?"
As was tradition on the Friday evening before school, the Weasley-Potter clan had congregated for a picnic in their favourite spot down by the caves. Thin on the ground today, with James and Roxanne on dates, Lily and Hugo at a friends birthday party and their older siblings busy with work, currently only Hope and Dom had arrived. Albus, Rose and Scorpius were apparently on their way.
Hope glanced back at Dom, sheepish.
"Yeah. Sorry I didn't tell you. I thought it might bother you... but, she's been really sweet and helpful and we've actually had a lot of fun."
Much to her relief Dom's reaction was warm.
"We've been getting on way better too," she admitted. "Had a nice chat yesterday evening. I guess we had to grow up at some point. Pity it took such horrible circumstances to make it happen."
"Yeah."
The scuffle at the cave entrance told them their three comrades has arrived.
"Sorry we're late," Albus said, clambering over the slimy rocks to join them. "Dad was asking stuff and reminding us when to be back. Bla bla bla."
"How is he?" Dom asked.
Albus shrugged. "Think he's going back to work on Monday. He doesn't say much though. Stays upstairs or in the study. He had a chat with me and apologised for snapping the day after The Crow got caught. I bet Mum made him do that. He doesn't normally say stuff like that."
"It must have be hard for him," Dom reasoned. "It really sucks that this happened in his first year of being Head Auror, too."
"Yeah, that's so unfair," Hope said. "He's been running the department for years, Mum says, because old Savage was so useless. When he officially became head, everything went wrong."
"I know," Albus acknowledged. "Mum keeps reminding me of that too. At least the Auror department have had enough staff for the last few years. Numbers were really low after the war and that's why The Surge became so serious. They didn't have the resources to figure out what was happening until loads of muggles had already been killed."
"That's when my dad left," Rose said, voice sad. "He never says much about it but he told me it was too stressful, and he became unhappy."
"I can't imagine Uncle Ron being unhappy," said Albus. "He's always so cheerful."
"Cheerful on the outside doesn't always mean happy on the inside," Rose said seriously. "He got much better after he quit though. Mum says it's lucky Harry is Head Auror now. She says if Savage was still in charge he would have pressured all the ex-Aurors back into service to boost numbers for when they were hunting The Crow."
"Have you heard any updates?" She added hopefully to Hope and Al. They both shook their heads.
"Mum explained a bit about Umbridge after the news got out," Hope said, telling what she knew. "That's it though. They haven't said much since. Apparently there's classified stuff that Mum can't even talk to Dad about yet."
Scorpius had been listening intently. "Your parents tell you everything."
"Not everything," Albus protested at once. "Like Hope said, loads of its classified." But Hope knew what Scorpius meant.
"They do tell us a lot," she acknowledged. She was realising this more as time went on. Their family group were always kept more in the loop about the "adult" world than any of their peers.
"Mum says it's because when they were younger they were kept in the dark and that had bad consequences," Rose said at once. "So they share as much as they can to try and prevent it from happening again. But she says we still need to be responsible, and it would be wrong if they told us all the details all the time."
"My parents say nothing." Scorpius scuffed his food against the sand with a scowl. "Ever. When I came back from school after my first term, they sat me down and had a talk about the war. They'd never told me anything before, but when I was sorted and I wasn't put in Slytherin, they had a row with Grandfather. So we had one talk. They told me how they were on the dark side during Voldemort's time and how Dad and Grandfather were Death Eaters." He ground his teeth. "Never thought I deserved to know that before going off to school."
There was a rather uncomfortable silence, which Scorpius ignored.
"I thought maybe after that I would talk more with them, and that things would change, but no. They never tell me much, even now, and if I do ask questions I get vague answers that change the subject."
Hope felt a sudden pang of sympathy for Scorpius. She knew little of his family, but what she had heard made her fervently grateful for her own. Scorpius had no brothers or sisters or even first cousins to share his frustrations with. No wonder he preferred to spend most of his holidays with Albus.
"You count as our family too now," she said, hoping this was a comfort. "You are related to me and Teddy, after all, and we'll tell you stuff if we can."
Scorpius's grey eyes did brighten.
"Thanks. Wish I'd known you guys growing up. I'd have been way more prepared for starting school."
"We didn't get told anything before we started Hogwarts though," Albus said.
"They did! They talked to us about the war as soon as we got our letter," Rose said. "But not much before that, I guess."
Hope cast her mind back as well. "Mum and Dad told me about Greyback when I was six, but that's only after I sneaked down to the cellar and hid there to be with Dad when he transformed."
Dom smiled. She knew the story. The others all looked nonplussed. "What?" Albus stared at her. "How come you did that?"
"To keep him company, of course," Hope retorted. "I was only six. How was I to know he goes down there in case something goes wrong with his potion? I thought Mum didn't want to see him and that seemed really sad to me. So I stayed up until it was nearly dark and then I hid in the cupboard in the cellar." She gave a small laugh. "After he'd transformed I climbed up onto the bed and slept next to him all night."
"Aw, that's so cute," Rosie said, as Albus and Scorpius laughed too.
"He was really upset, the next day." Hope swallowed to try and rid her throat of the unexpected lump settling there. "I didn't understand back then – I thought he was angry with me - but obviously I get it now." Suddenly, it didn't feel funny at all. She was wishing she hadn't brought the story up. She was more subdued for the rest of the evening and only when she and Dom were alone again, did she admit it.
"I just worry about the delay to Teddy's research," she blurted out, when they were heading back over the cliffs and Dom asked what was on her mind. "He lost lots of time and I know the cure had to take priority. But I still get scared."
"I know," Dom said, reaching out and squeezing her arm. "It sounds like Teddy's doing loads to make up for lost time. And your dad's OK, isn't he? He seems great at the moment. In fact–"
She hesitated.
"What?"
"I overheard Mum say – after your mum and dad redid their vows - I can't believe I never told you, I guess it hasn't come up before."
Hope waited as Dom tried to remember.
"She said she'd never seen him look as well as he does at the moment," Dom said. "Dad agreed, said he seems really healthy and happy, and looks years younger than he has in the past. I know he's not cured, but he seems OK. My parents have known him for ages - they wouldn't say that if it wasn't true."
The words did bring Hope some reassurance. On the other hand, few people ever saw her dad straight after his transformations, in the early morning light, when he was pale and shaking, sometimes sick, feverish, or blinded by terrible headaches. The times when their mother had to physically help him upstairs, when he had to sleep for most of the day, or couldn't be in a brightly lit room, or wasn't able to stomach any food. She did not mention this to Dom and tried to look at the positives instead. Healthy and happy. Years younger. He did seem that way most of the time, and given the events of the past two years, happy and healthy was a blessing in itself.
o
o
"Is Harry back to the office on Monday?" Remus enquired, as he and his wife cleared up the last of the dinner crumbs and made their way through to the living room to relax for a couple of hours before bed. Teddy had just got in from work and Hope, they expected, would be back from the Weasley picnic at any moment.
"Yes," Tonks said. "Still too soon in my opinion, but he's given himself far more of a break than I expected."
"What's the time frame looking like?" Teddy asked, sinking into the armchair opposite. "For The Crow's trial."
"No more than two months, is the hope. The report on the our examination has been released today. The confederation will confirm The Crow's trial date once they've done their enquiries, but it's looking like it will take place in May."
"That quickly?"
"They're basing it off The Surge timeline, and how little time it took to get that wrapped up."
"But The Surge only affected Britain and killed one hundred and fifty people," Teddy objected. "This, meaning no disrespect to The Surge victims, is on another level entirely."
"For the number of victims, yes," Tonks said. "But in terms of the accused there are a lot of similarities, remember. As soon as The Final Surge took place we had all the information we needed - the instigator, the evidence of the crimes and those involved. It's the same in this case. The Crow's house is an absolute mine of information, and all our observations tally up with his memories. We could try him tomorrow, if it was just a matter contained within our ministry. But we have to wait for other country officials to be present to."
"Can you tell me what happened now?" A windswept Hope had entered the living room towards the end of this speech and hopped up onto the sofa next to her mother, looking eager. Her mother gave her a fierce hug, then a resigned sigh.
"We can tell you some bits of it," she agreed. "On the condition that you go straight upstairs afterwards and double check everything's ready for school on Monday. I'm not going through the usual manic rush last minute." Keen as she was to hear the new developments, Hope agreed to this, deciding not to mention that the contents of her bag were currently strewn in every corner of her bedroom and would likely take a full day to sort out without magic. That was a problem for later.
"So you know how Umbridge was involved?"
"Mostly." Tonks passed a tired hand over her eyes before explaining.
"Easiest to start from the beginning, I suppose. Dolores Umbridge was imprisoned six months after Voldemort's final downfall. She was an integral member of the corrupt Ministry of Magic, but she was never a Death Eater or one of Voldemort's inner circle, and although she enabled death and suffering, no one - to our knowledge - had ever died directly at her hand. Therefore, she was not on the priority list for sentencing."
"It was a very difficult process, straight after the war, Hope. Some look back on it now with tinted lenses and claim the dark side put up a white flag and shrunk into submission the second Voldemort fell, but that isn't true. There were thousands of people to round up, from petty criminals all the way up to Death Eaters, and not enough trusted authority figures to do it quickly. Minor attacks happened every week from those who weren't willing to back down – mini forerunners of The Surge - and our side sustained more losses as they fought for control. But Dolores Umbridge wasn't involved in those disturbances, and while she was tracked to ensure she could not escape or disappear completely, she was not considered a threat to the population on her own. She was therefore allowed to return home until her trial. And from her home, we now know, she was able to correspond with the son who no one knew existed - imprisoned for most of his life and raised with the sole purpose of helping her execute a terrible, lethal curse upon the world."
"So she had six months in her house to make a plan for when she was in prison?"
"Pretty much," Tonks said. "She put up a fight at her trial of course - prison was hardly convenient for her - but she stood no chance. Kingsley saw to that, and she went quietly enough in the end. Then, a year later, Umbridge was visited by her squib brother Silas, from whom she had been estranged for years, who claimed he had just heard of her imprisonment and wanted to make peace with her. Or, at least, he appeared to be Silas."
"It was The Crow?"
Tonks nodded.
"Orpheus had tracked Silas down and captured him, firstly for Polyjuice potion to have a handy disguise – because who would take notice of a poor, outcast squib visiting their only remaining relative in prison? Secondly, as a means of testing the curse on someone with magical ancestry but a low MDI. Silas proved useful to Orpheus for a long time, but eventually he fulfilled his purpose and to minimise suspicions when the curse was released, he was disposed of. His body was left outside a muggle pub, with all the usual signs of substance abuse, his veins flooded with alcohol. No one investigated further. Squibs often turn to drink and narcotics, it is one of the great tragedies of perceived magical superiority in our world."
Hope tried to get her head round this. "So Orpheus used Silas as a disguise, and to test the curse. But how did Umbridge get out of prison? It can't be coincidence that she fell ill and got better?"
"Oh no," Teddy chipped in with a hollow sort of laugh. "There was nothing coincidental about that, and she was never actually ill. St Mungo's are still investigating the specifics of how on earth someone could create a 'fake' version of Gorsemoors, but we assume that so many years of researching complicated healing journals and papers allowed Orpheus to strike gold in the end. He was forced to study medical theories from a very young age."
Hope envisaged a small boy poring over a book, a hideous figure standing over him with a cane, and winced.
"No one was suspicious?" she asked. "A prisoner suddenly having a disease that could technically be faked?"
"It's easy to say that now," Tonks said. "With hindsight. But think how it would have looked back then. An older woman afflicted with a gruesome disease and her squib brother - her only visitor - requesting her permanent release to St Mungo's where she would remain for the rest of her drastically shortened life. Several years after The Surge, these were the most peaceful times our country had known since the days before Voldemort's first rise. No one had reason to believe anything was amiss."
"Yes," Remus continued. "And while claiming madness or mental ill health to escape punishment is not unheard of - a phenomenon known as malingering - there was no precedent for such complex fraud as mimicking a genuine illness in order to infiltrate a hospital, much less a terminal illness. The mere idea of a version of Goorsmoor's that only affected the patient externally, allowing them to remain lucid, would have been preposterous at the time."
"Did they not even suspect anything when the curse started?" Hope persisted, remembering her conversation with Cadmus the previous term. "Someone in my defence class said the MoSS keeps tabs on ex-criminals."
"Umbridge was tracked - all bailed prisoners are - not observed continuously. So the actions she committed alone in her room, targeting her carers for example, slipped under the radar. Harry is furious with himself," Tonks sighed. "Says he of all people should never have dropped his guard where Umbridge was concerned. But again, that is with the benefit of hindsight. Seven years went by between her appeal and the release of the curse without any developments other than a further decline in her health. Her brother was found dead, and no one knew about Orpheus, remember. Umbridge was a highly unpopular woman and apparently alone in the world. She was still exhibiting all the symptoms of a dying patient, and no one had been able to get even a simple sentence out of her for months on end. Would you have been suspicious?"
"I suppose not," Hope said. "Did Umbridge go into prison with the fake illness already in her? Or did they do that afterwards?"
"The latter," Tonks said. "It took Orpheus many years to figure out how to do it convincingly - far longer than they intended, it would seem. Once he'd managed it, he paid her a visit in Azkaban as 'Silas' and slipped her the substance that would begin to induce her symptoms. That's how she got her wand in hospital too; from a devoted squib brother bringing his poor, senile sister an old book that might help her reconnect with her former self. Her wand was short enough to be concealed in the spine of the book. Once she had her wand, the game changed completely. Victoire was not the first healer to be targeted with an Imperious curse while working in the Incurable Affliction ward."
"Why wasn't she forced to give up her wand from the start?" Hope was indignant. "Don't they check these things? Aren't there detectors, for people going to visit relatives in Azkaban, and in hospital, to make sure nothing is smuggled in?"
"In Azkaban, of course there are," Remus said. "The reason no one questioned her lack of wand at the trial is simply because they didn't have time. The Ministry was under enormous pressure to proceed with the trials as quickly as possible, and it isn't uncommon for convicts to turn up without. A wand is a very personal thing, and rather than hand it over to the Ministry to be destroyed, prisoners often hide it, or entrust it to someone else to ensure its safety, should they ever be released. It's what Sirius did too, although in his case it was because he knew himself to be innocent."
A pang of sadness crossed his face as he pressed on.
"This may change now but in the past the Ministry has never had reason to insist on a wand being submitted because, in theory, they have no chance of getting their hands on it again – visitors to Azkaban are checked carefully and required to leave all magical devices, including their own, at security. The induction of Orpheus's version of Gorsemoor's was different. It was a tiny vial of undetectable liquid, nothing more. As for the hospital, the security checks were only introduced because of the curse. St Mungo's is a place of care and compassion. They aren't going to submit distraught relatives to intense scrutiny every time they visit their loved ones."
"Not even if that person was a criminal?"
"Umbridge wasn't a high risk prisoner," he said. "She had a life sentence for conspiring with the enemy and hate crime, but that didn't warrant top security treatment. Had it been a Death Eater, it may have been a different matter, and although several at Umbridge's appeal argued that she should be treated as she would have treated others, and left to rot in jail, they were overruled. The new line was to build a better, tolerant, more respectful society. They weren't going to let someone waste away in a prison cell when they had a chance of a more comfortable and dignified demise in the hospital, and even those who despised Umbridge agreed that the Gorsemoor's diagnosis was punishment enough."
Hope remembered Michael telling her that the effects of Gorsemoor's syndrome were considered akin to the Dementor's Kiss. She knew plenty about the dementors, the damage they had caused, the terror they had invoked in prisoners for years. She also knew their removal from Azkaban had been backed by the majority, so loathsome were these creatures and so repulsive their final punishment. Times had changed, and sucking out an individual's soul was now considered a violation of human rights that not even the most dangerous of criminals should be subjected to. As such, perhaps some had felt sympathy for the woman who had succumbed to a similar fate.
"Seems she took advantage of that," she muttered darkly.
"Absolutely," Remus agreed. "When she was released to St Mungo's, her health and sanity in a downward spiral, it was ordered that they treat her with dignity, the same as any other patient." His face twisted into an ugly expression. "She was put in a private room, as it would have been unfair to expect others on the Incurable Affliction Ward to share a room with a convict. But no one monitored Umbridge or her occasional visitor any more other patients, particularly as the years wore on and her mental state deteriorated further. Being in a private room was to her advantage. Fewer people to catch her out."
Hope still could not believe what she was hearing.
"Seven years alone in a hospital room with the world thinking you've lost your mind," she breathed. "How could anything be worth that?"
"Umbridge didn't have a decent bone in her body," Remus spat. "I imagine she delighted in the task. The time probably flew by for her."
"And she managed to get the information they needed to help Orpheus create the curse?"
Teddy confirmed this. "An investigation has been launched into how so much information was leaked over the years. It will probably take months, if not years, to find out all the details, because we don't have Umbridge's memories to hand. But remember Umbridge was in there for years herself and she wasn't in a rush. She had a wand, possibly other means of communication with Orpheus, and she had nothing to do but think up ways to procure information and get them to her son. It would not have been too difficult, over a long period of time, to get him the research he needed, considering that Magienetics department was accessible by most members of staff."
Hope considered this.
"How come no one else was ever discovered to be under the Imperious curse?" she said. "If it happened a lot."
"That's part of the investigation," Teddy said. "The most likely reason is that Umbridge never targeted anyone more than once, and removed the curse as soon as the required action had been completed. You would only be able to detect traces of the Imperious curse if you were specifically looking for it once it had been lifted. I doubt her other targets ever knew they had been cursed. Victoire's case was different. Partly because the security measures had tightened so much in the hospital that it took longer to get access to the Magienetics department, and partly because Umbridge complicated things for herself by making it personal."
"When she got Victoire to mess with your hearing?"
"Yep." Teddy appeared grimly satisfied. "We think we know what happened with that now as well. Jessye remembers a conversation she had with Vic in January which took place in Umbridge's room. About my hearing. We can't blame them for that," he added, as Hope did a double take. "It would have seemed as safe a place as possible to have a private conversation, given that Umbridge was not believed to have any cognitive functions left. Jessye can't remember exactly what they said, but thinks it was enough to give away the fact that widespread news of my hearing might lead to my dismissal and end my research for good." He spread his hands. "And so it seems Umbridge listened to every word, and seized an opportunity. Possibly the minute Jessye had left the room."
Hope had a sudden, mental image of a dark figure rising from the bed behind poor Victoire's unsuspecting back and gave another violent shiver.
"Why would she bother?" she said, shaking her head to rid it of the horrible picture. "All those years. The time and effort they put into the Narcoviral Curse. Why did she care so much about a werewolf cure?"
"For Umbridge it must have seemed like a dream come true," Remus said. His lips were thin. "A chance to get the final information she needed for Strike Three of her plan, and destroy any chance of a forthcoming werewolf cure in one fell swoop. Too good an opportunity to miss." He attempted a smile, but it came out as a grimace through his clenched jaw. "She loathed part humans, you see."
Hope scowled at him. It had always made her angry when her father referred to himself as part human. It was an old, regularly fought argument and she sensed that now was not the time to raise it again.
"What would have happened if that hadn't caught her out?" she pressed on. "Would they have managed Strike Three?"
"As to that, it's difficult to say," her mother replied. "There were so many precautions in place that I would hope not, but they likely would have got further with it than they did. The plan, incidentally, was for Orpheus to mutate the curse beyond reach of the current cures and vaccines, and detonate it round the world. Their initial aim to create worldwide division and chaos had succeeded, and now all that remained was to spread the illness as widely as possible so that the progress against it was reversed and the trust muggles had placed in wizardkind damaged beyond repair. Umbridge would join Orpheus and they would escape this country together, resume different identities while the world went into full scale panic once more."
Obliteration, Ginny had said. The word still made Hope's heart beat unnaturally fast, even with the knowledge that this final, deadliest aim had not been successful.
"Thankfully," Tonks continued, "The curse on Victoire ended up being her downfall. Kingsley started making enquiries at St Mungo's within hours of its detection, and Umbridge got wind of what he was doing and panicked. She tried to fake her death, conjured a copy of her own corpse and scarpered."
"That works?" Hope said in astonishment. "Then why didn't she do that before?"
"It doesn't work," Teddy countered at once. "The autopsy would have shown that it was not her real body but she only needed a matter of hours this time. Time to join up with Orpheus and flee the country. She didn't care if her involvement was known after that. She didn't spend all those years in prison and St Mungo's to stay in confinement when the plan had finally come together. In her panic, it seems she forgot that she was being tracked by the MoSS as an ex prisoner, and Kingsley was too smart for her. He scared her deliberately, you see, acted as though he was blundering through the hospital asking questions, all the while reinforcing the tracking spells on her so that she stood no chance of getting away undetected. It worked perfectly and for her, the timing of her escape was wrong. Orpheus wasn't ready to execute the final stage of the plan by the time she reached him and Harry, Mum and the rest of the Aurors caught up with them within the hour. Outnumbered them twenty to one."
There was a silence. Hope reflected on this evil woman who had been tormenting people for decades. Who could have possibly been willing to have a child with her?
"Who was Orpheus's father?"
Teddy exchanged another glance with his mother, as if asking for permission to confide yet more details. Tonks shrugged and nodded and Teddy turned back to his sister.
"Do you remember me telling you about Marmon Golpalott?"
"I think so." Hope screwed up her forehead. "He was a potioneer? Descendent of potioneers? The one who theorised on the Narcoviral Curse in the first place. Ohh," comprehension began to dawn. "He was Orpheus's father? That's how Umbridge and her son knew so much about the curse and how to make it happen?"
"Yes. We're not sure how the initial liaison came about, but at some point during the first war Umbridge and Golpalott met and ended up having a child together. There might have been magical seduction involved but with both of them now dead, we will likely never know. To an extent it's irrelevant, given the outcome. Orpheus was born, Golpalott died, and his son was raised to work on his theories and transform them into reality."
"You said before that Golpalott never intended for them to be used?"
"To our knowledge." Teddy shrugged. "Golpalott was known for experimenting with controversial ideas and horrible boundaries of magic, but although he was an eccentric - some would say disturbed - individual, there is no evidence of him causing intentional harm to others. He was highly intelligent, far more so than Umbridge, who wouldn't have had the ability to create the curse herself."
"It was lucky for her that Orpheus did then," Hope said dully. "Unlucky for the rest of the world."
"Luck, in part," Tonks agreed. "But also the result of a cruel, ruthless upbringing. Creating this monstrosity of a curse took discipline and single mindedness as well as intelligence, and that was drilled into him from the moment he could stand. He didn't put up a fight at all when we cornered them. Maybe all he wanted was a chance of life without her, even if that meant spending the rest of his days in prison."
"But she was locked up in prison for ages!" Hope protested. "He could have escaped then."
Tonks' eyes were sad, their investigations having confirmed Weishu's theories on Orpheus's lack of ability to deviate from the only path he knew. "It didn't even occur to him. He was completely brainwashed into believing that Umbridge's word was law, and that belief endured long after her imprisonment and successful appeal. The first thing we found in his hideout was a picture of Umbridge holding him as a baby. In spite of all her cruelty and lack of affection, he had kept the photo, given it a prominent place in his solitary life. Every action he took was for her - he may even have believed he was acting out of love."
At this Hope fell silent, a sudden fire burning in her chest. Never had she been more grateful for her own, truly loving family. How awful to have a mother like that and worse, to believe that life had nothing more to offer. Tonks lifted a consoling arm and Hope shuffled towards her and accepted the embrace.
"Harry said Umbridge removed all traces of having a son?"
"Yes, although Orpheus remembers nothing of it," Tonks said. "Veritaserum can only account for what is within reach of long-term memory. All Golpalott's documented experiments were seized and are being examined by the Ministry, and among them is a record of how to remove magical detectability from a young child. It is reasonable to assume that Umbridge used it so that underage magic was never detected in her presence. It may be a contributing factor to why we had so much trouble keeping tabs on The Crow this year, if the effects of the experiment went deeper than the trace and lingered into adulthood. There are no documented cases of the method being used before, so we'll never confirm for certain."
"What is the method? How did she do it?"
Nauseated, Teddy grimaced and Remus, after the briefest of glances towards his wife, shook his head.
"No," he said, with absolutely finality. "You do not need to know that."
Hope, on the verge of protesting, checked herself. It was rare that her parents did not answer a question if she asked it. In fact, she was pretty sure that her insight into the adult world was more privileged even than that of the Potter and Weasley children, thanks to Teddy, who had always been her third source for the extra snippets of information their parents didn't care to divulge. If this was so horrific that not even Teddy was willing to share it, she didn't want to know. She allowed her mother to tighten her grip around her shoulders and hold her.
"Is Harry OK?" she asked, thinking of his tortured face a few weeks before. She had not seen him since.
Remus sighed. "Not really, although he'll back be to work on Monday. It's exceptionally hard for him to take. His hatred of Umbridge already ran bone deep, quite as as much as for Voldemort, or for Bellatrix Lestrange." His eyes gleamed savagely at this second, hated name. "To have been outsmarted by a woman he loathed so much, when she was under his nose all this time, when he believed that she was beyond the point of being a threat. There is little solace for him right now, even in her death. Even in being the one to end her life."
Hope thought of Harry, who laughed and joked with her; Harry who was kind and always had advice; Harry who preached tolerance and the humane approach. How much must he have detested this woman to kill her outright?
"I know this is a lot to take in," Tonks said. "We're here, if you want to talk. You know that."
Hope shook her head. She was fine. Grateful as always for the information. Her main worry now was going back to school the following Monday.
"Chocolate?" Remus suggested, smiling slightly. She shrugged. She didn't much feel like chocolate either.
"Oh, a letter came for you, while you were out," Teddy said, as Remus summoned a bar of chocolate from the kitchen anyway. "It's on the table."
Hope got up at once, a genuine smile splitting her face as she saw the letter and recognised the scrawling handwriting.
"Who's it from?" Teddy enquired.
"Um. Adam. Just... a friend from school."
Hope accepted the piece of chocolate that her father handed her with a word of thanks, suddenly feeling a lot more cheerful.
"Who is this Adam?" Teddy grinned at her mischievously as she folded it up, put it in her pocket and resumed her place on the sofa, chewing her chocolate with forced nonchalance. "Are we allowed to know?"
OOO