The Purloined Prophetess

XIX: I Don't Gamble

As far as the other Aurors were concerned, the Trelawney investigation was yielding only dead ends. I had checked the washroom for Portkeys on the first night (there were none). We had confirmed that there was no such person as Fidessa Fauntleroy employed at the Ministry of Magic, but Larry's description of the woman who had detained him was much too vague to provide any leads - assuming, of course, that Larry was telling the truth at all.

Remus and I went to the Three Broomsticks to find out whether Madame Rosmerta could confirm his story and supply a more detailed description of Fidessa, only to discover that she had gone on holiday for a month and left a dreadlocked and unhelpful Australian in charge of the pub. He claimed to remember nothing about the clientele that night, and he may have been telling the truth, because his memory didn't improve when I checked the expiration date on his Wizarding Holiday Visa.

'Are you going to turn him in?' Remus asked.

'No,' I said. 'I haven't used mine yet, and I could use a free place to crash in Brisbane.'

'That's a long way off, Brisbane is.'

I told myself this was a random and irrelevant remark. The last thing I needed right now was a personal complication.

'If Fidessa exists at all,' he added thoughtfully after we returned to the North Tower, 'the sticking point is how she knew so much about Larry and his interests. There isn't any reason the Death Eaters should have been watching Larry, or even known he was a member of the Order.'

I did not volunteer any theories and neither did Severus Snape, who was also listening. Remus said his usual practice was to hand over the Wolfsbane potion, toss off a few snide comments, and leave, but this week he'd taken to hanging around the North Tower and asking me repetitive and pointless questions about how we were handling the investigation at work. I was sorely tempted to throw something at him. Even Remus seemed to find his presence irritating, although his reserves of patience are far larger than mine.

Harry and Ron usually joined us for the first part of the evening but always made a hasty exit when Snape appeared. On the last night of the week, they had left the board set up for a game of wizard chess. 'Anyone up for a game?' I asked, not so much because I wanted to play chess but because I was sick and tired of answering questions.

'Too tired,' said Remus. He had been looking more and more unwell over the last few days. 'And I don't think you'll have much luck with Severus - he doesn't socialise with the likes of us.'

'On the contrary,' said Snape smoothly, 'I think I quite fancy a game of chess with Miss Tonks.' Our eyes met. Neither of us looked away.

'Well, this should be fun,' said Remus with what I suspected was a strained attempt at cheeriness. 'I can't make my mind up who I'd rather back, so if either of you cares to make things interesting - I haven't got more than a few Sickles to my name, but I'll throw in a copy of Decorating with Human Transfiguration; or, How to Make an Umbrella Stand out of Your Enemy. First edition.'

'I don't gamble,' said Snape. 'I would suggest that you bet against Miss Tonks, in any case. From what I remember of her, patience and strategy are not her strong points.'

'I think you'll find I've changed since I was your pupil,' I told him. 'And I don't gamble either.'

Remus looked amused. 'Since when? Didn't you win all our pocket change when you played Chocolate-Frog-Card Bluff with Mark and me the other day?'

'I've reformed,' I said, 'and this isn't Chocolate-Frog-Card Bluff.'

Snape had underestimated my capacity for patience and strategy. It was a hard-fought game that went on for hours, but at last I offered a sacrifice he couldn't resist taking. I promoted a pawn on the square he'd left unprotected and went in for the kill. My opponent rose without another word and swept the chessboard and all the pieces to the floor.

Wizard chess pieces don't like it when you do that. I scooped up a handful of angry, protesting bishops and knights and tried to shush them, but they had already awakened Remus, who rubbed his eyes and began picking up chesspieces from the floor. 'I'll take care of it,' I said. 'Go back to sleep.'

'Oh no, I'd rather help. I take it you won? Right little model of sportsmanship, isn't he?' There was, I thought, a definite edge to his usually gentle voice.

After Reg began his watch, Snape did not return to the North Tower. He seemed to spend most of the evenings sulking in his office, and I began to wonder if he had been right about my chess-playing abilities after all. Perhaps I had won one game only to lose at another.

XX: Lions and Foxes

[Reg, please Arcanum Charm this against Remus. - N. T.

Will do, Miss Complete Professional Objectivity. - R. B.

Two weeks later: Lifted the Arcanum Charms on this section and the next one.]

Moony told me my cousin was a brilliant actress when I took over guard duty this week, but he didn't know the half of it. It wasn't her Sybill Trelawney impression that made me sit up and take notice, although it was hilarious; it was the way she dropped the act as soon as we were alone together, and slumped down in an armchair looking troubled and exhausted.

'What's the matter, Nymphadora?' I asked. 'You're looking way too serious. Are you coming to my show tonight? It'll cheer you up, and the band can almost stay in tune these days.'

'Only if you promise to do "Purple Haze" again,' she said, putting on her cheery persona again as quickly as she could change her face. 'And no Warren Zevon. I caught the tail end of your practice session this afternoon, and I never want to hear Hagrid howl like that again.'

'No worries, little cousin, I can howl with the best of them myself.' I grabbed my ukulele and began to strum it softly.

I saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand

Walkin' through the streets of Soho in the rain...

'Reg ... please stop. I'm not in the mood right now. Really.'

'Ooh. I do believe I've hit a sore nerve, Nymph.'

She crossed her arms and turned her face toward the window in a gesture that said, more eloquently than words, that maybe I had and maybe I hadn't, but it wasn't any of my damn business. 'Look,' she said after a moment's silence, 'there is not anything going on between Remus and me, all right? First of all, neither of us has time for that sort of thing, and secondly, working for the Order means you have to approach your colleagues from ... from a position of complete professional objectivity.'

'Does this mean you're impervious to my masculine charms? Alas, madam, you wound me most grievously!'

'That's exactly right.'

Well, I thought the lady did protest too much, but I do know when to take a hint. I changed the subject. 'What was this thing you said you wanted me to do for you?'

'Glad you asked,' she said, 'because I don't think I'll get the opportunity to do it myself, and you might, since you're around all day. I think you'll have to wait until classes are in session and then slip out of the tower with the invisibility cloak on. Listen...'

She asked me not to write down what she said next, so I won't, but let's just say it was about the last thing I would have expected. Harmless-sounding, but very weird. And more than a bit risky. I whistled softly. 'I'd just about get murdered if I were caught, wouldn't I?'

'Does that mean you aren't going to do it?' she asked.

''Course I'll do it,' I said, 'just for the challenge. I'm a Gryffindor and a Black, aren't I? We're brave as lions and sly as foxes. And I do believe you're the slyest of us all, little cousin.'

'I'm not a Black. I'm a Tonks.'

I shook my head. 'You sound just like my brother, but he was as Black as they come, deep down. And so are you, no matter how much you try to disguise it. Listen, I don't reckon you'll like this much, but I've been meaning to tell you something ever since I came back. You, and Andromeda, and Sirius - you're all alike.'

'I'm not a bit like my mum,' she said. 'The most exciting thing she ever did was get married when she was eighteen, and she spends half her life at the beauty parlour, for Merlin's sake.'

'Does she still colour her hair with henna?' I asked. She nodded. 'You're lucky, aren't you? You can cover up the family looks without going to all that fuss and expense. But let me tell you - pink hair is all very well and good as long as it's for fun, but if you're doing it so people won't know who you are and where you come from - that isn't fair to the rest of the family.'

'I think I can live without being fair to Auntie Bella,' she said curtly.

'That is exactly the kind of thing I'm talking about,' I said. 'I don't pretend to have inherited the brains in the family, not like you and Sirius, but I can tell when you're seeing only half the picture. What about people like my brother, and your mum, and Uncle Alph? There've been as many of them as there were of the other kind. Even old Phineas Nigellus wasn't such a bad sort, really, although I can see why Sirius thought having his portrait hanging in his bedroom for sixteen years was a bit much. I understand why you might want not want to acknowledge me in public, but you don't need to be ashamed to be related to the rest of them.'

'Reg, I'm not at all ashamed of you. Why d'you think I'm trusting you with all this?'

I shook my head and rolled up my sleeve. 'Let me be completely blunt about this. I'm a Death Eater who just reappeared out of thin air a couple of months ago. That's not exactly the best advertisement.'

'You're an ex-Death Eater,' said Nymphadora promptly.

'Some days I'm not so sure there's any such animal,' I said quietly.

She sat bolt upright, as if this struck a chord with her, but said nothing.

'Have you ever used an Unforgivable Curse, Dora?' I asked.

'Sure. We learned how in Auror training. Must've killed half the spiders in Britain.'

'I mean on a human being.'

'Of course not!'

'Well,' I told her, 'I have. Crucio, the dirtiest one of the lot. And let me tell you - it isn't the sort of experience you can walk away from and go on being the same person you were. You have to put a bit of your soul into that kind of magic. And it leaves a bit of itself in you.'

'Reg?' she asked, looking and sounding an awful lot like the little girl I remembered. 'If you ... if you'd done it more than once, would you keep losing pieces of your soul?'

'I don't know, but I reckon you would. I didn't stick around long enough to find out.'

'That's why I trust you,' she said. 'And also because you talk about it. It's the people who never give away what they're thinking or feeling who worry me.'

'Which explains why you've just tapped me for mission impossible.'

'Exactly. Well, that and you seem to get a kick out of doing impossible things.' She ran her hand through her hair and grinned, letting me know the serious part of the conversation was over as far as she was concerned - which was a relief. I don't do serious very well.

'And you really think this ... this idea of yours, whatever it is, will lead us to Sybill's kidnapper?' I asked.

'It might. I don't guarantee that bit.'

'What is your theory, if you don't mind my asking? Are you saying you think she's been drugged?'

'No. I don't want to go into the details until I'm absolutely dead sure, but it's a bit more complicated than that. You will let me know as soon as you've had a chance to do it, and double-check? Because it's terribly important, and time matters.'

'Right away. You can count on me, little cousin.'

But what with Peeves, and Argus Filch, and trying to make my way through corridors filled with students under an invisibility cloak, and the general difficulty of breaking into rooms that are either occupied or locked most of the time, the week was almost gone before I got my chance.

XXI: Treachery

Little cousin,

I checked twice. No change. Isn't it time you told me what all this means? - R. B.

It meant treachery.

Oh, not the sort of treachery that was always in the back of our minds - betrayal to the Death Eaters. I would have found that easier to accept. I suppose the Death Eaters also think they are serving a worthwhile cause. This was personal, petty, and pointless ... unless, of course, it went hand in hand with disloyalty on a larger scale. Yes, it had to, I decided. A man who was capable of this would be capable of anything.

My hands were shaking with rage as I put my Instant Message Book aside and took out the small vial I'd bought at the apothecary shop. I'd spent three nights pacing the floor and fingering it from time to time, unsure whether it held release or doom - or even what I wanted the answer to be. I'd been impatient for certainty, but now that I had my answer I felt like there had been something comforting about not knowing. It meant I didn't have to act, and acting terrified me.

It was Sunday, so there were no classes to teach, nothing to distract me, only a long day in the house at Grimmauld Place. It was also the morning after the full moon. Remus, who was wearing the tattiest dressing gown I'd ever seen, had dragged himself out to the living room sofa and immediately fallen asleep again, which meant I had to look at him every time I passed through the room. Damn, damn, damn.

His face was almost grey and he was tossing feverishly, as if he were having bad dreams. Every now and then he mumbled something. It was hard to tell what he was saying, but I thought I caught the name 'Peter' once.

Ouch.

I had thought I might wait until he woke and put an end to it all properly, with explanations, proof, and a public confrontation, but that made up my mind. Acting quickly was the only decent, merciful thing to do - and it wasn't really gambling, was it? I was as sure of this as I'd ever been sure of anything in my life.

I realized that I was clutching the little vial of comfrey essence so tightly that it had left marks on the palm of my hand.

Get a grip on yourself, girl, you're a professional and a Gryffindor. And, all right, a Black.

Shaking hands wouldn't do. This called for care and precision. I used one of the advanced Occlumency tactics they'd taught us in Auror training, clearing my mind of everything to do with the present and concentrating on a calming memory from my childhood. Reg and Sirius, before their rift, before everything, taking me to the beach and showing me how to enchant sand castles...

Feeling steadier, I went to the kitchen and filled two of the crystal goblets with chilled pumpkin juice. I opened the vial and added precisely twelve drops to one of them. I placed them on a tray and carried them out to the living room, deliberately kicking the edge of the sofa to wake him. He looked up at me through slightly unfocused eyes and muttered, 'Clumsy as always,' smiling a little.

I forced myself to look carefree and cheerful. 'Starting to feel human again? I brought you some juice.'

He took a sip from the goblet I handed him. 'This tastes a bit funny,' he said. 'You haven't taken it into your head to poison me, have you?'

He gave me another weak smile, although something about his voice and eyes and the lines on his face betrayed the fact that he was in pain. How very like him, I thought, and felt like I'd been stabbed in the heart.

'Tastes fine to me,' I said, drinking from the other one. He would, I knew, be too thirsty to mind any strange flavours much.

He fell asleep once more before he'd finished the juice, and I could only hope he'd had enough. I sat by his side for a long time, long enough to see that he was lying very still.

I left the room and gathered together the evidence I had collected. For the first time that day, I permitted myself a grim little smile of satisfaction.