A Likely Story

A few weeks after the last Order meeting, Snape contacted Tonks late one Friday night. She was at a pub with some other Aurors when the communication mirror sent its signal, silent to all but her.

It was almost time to wrap up anyway, she thought as she made her way to the women's toilet. The by now very drunken group of Aurors, none of whom were in the Order besides her, had started drinking in London, where even the magical pubs close at eleven, and had Apparated to Edinburgh, where they could drink until four, when Snape called.

Tonks entered a stall in the women's toilet and cast a Silencing Charm about herself before removing the mirror from her handbag. "Wotcher, Severus," she said hoarsely.

"Meeting tomorrow morning at seven, " he said curtly. Smirking slightly, he added, "Don't be late."

Seven o'clock in the morning on a Saturday? It was an emergency meeting, then. She nodded blearily. "I'd wager you make a wicked Hangover Potion."

He peered at her through the mirror and smirked. "Do you become less clumsy when you drink?"

"It's called a day off, Severus," she slurred, wishing her alcohol-soaked brain could come up with a snappier retort.

"Twelve Death Eaters escape Azkaban, and Aurors are scattered about the continent getting drunk. No wonder we almost lost the last war," he snapped before disappearing from the mirror.

The mirror had gone dark and was returning to its usual shiny reflective appearance before Tonks could reply.

When she arrived home, she set her Chronos Charm to just shy of glass-shattering intensity, and its shrieking in the morning made her skull feel as if it would split in two. A large glass of pumpkin juice and two cups of coffee later, she felt less like one of Hagrid's illegal breeding experiments and more like something approaching human, and Apparated to 12 Grimmauld Place. But the crack of her departure and arrival set off fresh waves of pain in her head. And the pumpkin juice definitely wasn't sitting well.

Snape had arrived right before she did and was hanging up his travelling cloak when she opened the front door. Seeing him, Tonks straightened her back and strode firmly into the front hallway, avoiding the troll leg umbrella stand, affecting her usual cheerful insouciance, as if she didn't feel like she had been pickled in preparation for vivisection. She greeted Snape with a casual, "Wotcher, Severus," as she hung up her coat. He smelled a bit of stale drink himself, and she swallowed desperately when her face was out of sight.

"You're looking a bit peaky, " he observed snidely. "Or is the face supposed to match the hair today?"

"Right on both counts, " she replied breezily. "And I'm flattered you noticed." She pushed past him to enter the kitchen when there was a light tap on her shoulder, and she looked back at Snape in surprise.

He looked away, and then he reached into a pocket. "I don't know why I'm doing this, since I never sit anywhere near you. However, it would be inappropriate if you started vomiting in the middle of the meeting." He retrieved a Knut and tapped it with his wand.

Nothing happened.

He frowned and peered closely at the coin before reaching into his pocket and retrieving another coin while Tonks giggled. "You're terribly nearsighted, aren't you? Have you thought about getting glasses?"

He paused in the middle of tapping his wand on the second coin and irritably shook his head. "Glasses would interfere with the Occlumency. And I would see other people more clearly."

"You would also see yourself more clearly, " she said, watching the coin transform into a glass of all-too-familiar green liquid, which she accepted gratefully.

He snorted. "Yes, seeing myself more clearly is surely a worthy goal. Drink up, before I change my mind."

She sipped cautiously at first, just to be on the safe side. Most potions were unavoidably disgusting, given their ingredients and the perverse reluctance of certain Potions masters to bother with such trivialities as palatability. But potions intended for queasy people needed to be palatable. Hangover Potion tasted like water at first, with hints of citrus and coffee as one continued to drink. "This is the really expensive stuff, Severus." She closed her eyes, savouring the sense of well-being spreading to her head and limbs. Her headache disappeared and was replaced by a mental clarity she didn't normally enjoy this early in the morning. As she drained the glass, her abnormal awareness of her stomach disappeared.

He was watching her standing there with her eyes closed, licking the last of the potion from her lips. "It's not expensive when you make it yourself. The ingredients are commonplace, but apothecaries charge an exorbitant mark-up on it."

"Really? Why's that?" she said, opening her eyes and cradling the glass in her hands. She now felt better than she did most mornings.

"Because they can," he answered, plucking the now-empty glass from her fingers. "Let's get rid of that, before you smash it and wake up the portraits. We'll attract enough attention, being as late as we are. And I would appreciate it if you kept this private. Your cousin's monthly accusations of my poisoning the werewolf are tedious enough."

He vanished the glass and swept into the kitchen, Tonks close behind.

"The Ministry really thinks our children are safer with you gone from the school? Are they really that blind?" Arthur Weasley was saying with uncharacteristic vehemence.

Minerva McGonagall smiled enigmatically. "I wouldn't say Albus is gone from the school, exactly. He just isn't keeping office hours."

Albus Dumbledore chuckled. "Rest assured, Arthur, the safety of Hogwarts students remains my primary obligation. And now that I am liberated from the day-to-day minutiae of running the school, I have more time to pursue other concerns."

Snape said, "And who would make a better ambassador for Ministry stupidity than Dolores Umbridge?"

"Precisely," said Dumbledore, nodding at Snape. "The Head of Hogwarts has always been under a spotlight. If Dolores continues to behave as she has done, she will discredit herself, and by proxy, the Ministry, in a highly public way."

Emmeline Vance protested, "But to have that woman running the school? Do you know she advocates torture? When she was Senior Undersecretary to Bartemius Crouch in his days as head of Magical Law Enforcement, she single-handedly brought in the use of Unforgivables against Death Eaters."

Minerva McGonagall said mildly, "I don't recall you raising any objections at the time, Emmeline."

"Well, I was distraught, wasn't I? Grief-stricken, and all that. Dolores is skilled at exploiting emotionally-unbalanced people for her own ends. And don't you think she could use the Headmistress position as a pulpit from which to preach the Ministry position?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Dolores is an effective manipulator behind the scenes, but in positions of leadership, she fails because she lacks the diplomatic skills these sorts of positions require."

"And her amphibian mien doesn't help," added Snape.

"Maybe, to be on the safe side, we could find something to blackmail her with," said Mad-Eye Moody. "For instance, maybe she's another unregistered Animagus."

Sirius chuckled and said, "How many more of those can there be?"

Moody fixed both his magical and real eyes on Sirius. "You tell me, my friend. They seem to be everywhere. You said Animagi take on some of the features of their animal when in human form. Does this mean Dolores can turn into a toad?"

Everyone laughed except Snape, who sniffed and said, "That would be redundant."

There was renewed laughter, except from Sirius, who glowered at Snape, and Snape, who glowered at everybody, and Minerva McGonagall, who shot a sharp look at Snape.

"I'm sure everyone could use a good laugh at the expense of Animagi everywhere, " said McGonagall sternly, and the laughter abruptly stopped. The kitchen was now as respectfully silent as a Transfiguration class. "But for the sake of keeping this meeting on track, I would like to say for the record that we shouldn't use blackmail except as a last resort. Our side should be above such tactics."

"We should be above no tactics," countered Snape. "Just some we use less readily than others."

"Literally above no tactics, Severus?" retorted McGonagall. "But you were the most vocal critic of Aurors using Unforgivables during the last war. Not that I disagreed with you, of course..."

"Unforgivables aren't tactics," he hissed. "They're war crimes."

"Not if they're used against war criminals," spat Moody.

"Are you implying something?" Snape said, standing.

Moody twisted around in his chair, both his natural and magical eyes fixed on Snape. "I don't think I need to imply anything, do you?" he retorted.

"That will do, Severus, Alastor," said Dumbledore, mildly reproving.

"We're getting ahead of ourselves here," protested Emmeline.

Sirius said, frowning, "Dolores likes to torture?"

"She's a sadist," verified Emmeline.

Sirius leaned forwards in his seat, resting his hands on his knees. "Is it possible she would use her position to torture students?" He regarded the teachers with the penetrating sort of gaze normally associated with the Potions master. "Is it possible she already has done?"

"Surely not!" gasped Molly. "Torturing Death Eaters is one thing...however reprehensible," she shot an uneasy glance at Snape. "But the Ministry wouldn't condone the torture of students for bad behaviour in class...would they?"

Snape, Dumbledore, and McGonagall looked at each other. Snape opened his mouth to speak when Dumbledore tapped him on the shoulder and shot him a look of warning. Snape scowled in return and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms.

Dumbledore said, "We can only respond if there has been a complaint. She has given detention to a number of students, and no-one has come forward with allegations of abusive behaviour."

Sirius said, "She has given detentions to Harry. If I find out that she's been doing something to him..."

Snape said, "If you turn up in her office, I'm sure she'll consider it the crowning achievement of an already successful school year."

Sirius twisted in his chair to glare at Snape. "What is she doing to him?" he hissed.

Snape smirked. "Nothing he doesn't deserve, I daresay."

"Severus!" gasped McGonagall, horrified. Dumbledore touched her shoulder and shook his head slightly. She sat back in her chair, her lips pressed together into the thinnest of lines.

Sirius' gaze alternated between the three Hogwarts staff, his eyes showing a glimmer of that mad gleam so prominent in his "Wanted" posters. "What are you hiding?" he hissed.

McGonagall said placatingly, "Harry's biggest complaint this year is that he's no longer allowed to play Quidditch."

Moody growled, "Snape's having you on, Sirius."

Sirius continued to glare at them. "He'd better be."

Molly said, "Sirius, listen. Fred and George haven't complained. Not that teenage boys tell their mother much of anything, but they have received more detentions than the rest of my children put together," she paused to sigh and shake her head dolefully before continuing. "And if that woman committed acts of brutality upon them, I'm sure they'd say something."

Sirius said sadly, "Harry hides things from me. I know he does."

Snape said in his penetrating whisper, "So Potter's not entirely lacking in..."

Dumbledore interrupted, "Severus and Tonks, meet me in the drawing room. And I want to thank you all for coming at such short notice, and remind you again that I am available if needed."

Nearly everyone vanished the extra chairs and left the kitchen, spilling into the hallway in a throng. Dumbledore, Snape and Tonks mingled with the crowd before slipping through a doorway off the front hallway. They found themselves in a room that appeared to have been lavish once, decorated with ornate, if badly-faded tapestries hanging on chipped dark wood-paneled walls. The room was crowded with dusty, threadbare antique chairs scattered about in a haphazard way. Snape and Tonks looked about themselves awkwardly, trying to figure out whether to stand or sit, and where.

"Please sit, both of you." Dumbledore gestured, and the chairs flew to the walls except three, which came together into a circle around a small, battered occasional table, varnish peeling from its ornately-carved, chipped legs. Dumbledore flicked his hand, and the dust levitated off the chairs and table and vanished.

"Molly and Sirius could sure use your help around here," commented Tonks as she settled into a newly-clean chair.

Dumbledore smiled at Tonks. "I've been thinking of sending the two freed house-elves over here to lend a hand. But Winky is rather fragile, and Dobby and Kreacher would likely come to blows." He reached into a pocket and retrieved an oblong slab wrapped in tin foil and bent the slab back and forth, breaking it in several places before gesturing to unwrap the foil. "You both hate my lemon drops, don't you?" he said wryly.

"They're not my favourite thing," admitted Tonks sheepishly.

"They're more effective than a Silencing Charm for gluing one's jaws together," added Snape.

Dumbledore nodded. "Considering how much both of you like chocolate, I thought I couldn't go wrong with a bar of Honeydukes' Bittersweet."

Tonks happily accepted a piece of chocolate. "That'll keep the Dementors at bay," she said, then turned to Snape with some surprise. "You like chocolate, Severus?"

Snape was leaning back in his chair, arms folded. "It's not like I hate everything," he said somewhat petulantly. "But I'm not hungry."

"I'm not hungry either, but this is chocolate, not dinner," said Tonks cheerfully.

"I insist," said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling.

Snape sighed. "Very well," he said, and took a tiny piece.

They ate in silence for a moment, and then Dumbledore said, "I'm worried about Harry."

"Justifiably," said Snape, taking a larger piece of chocolate.

"Why?" asked Tonks.

"Occlumency lessons are not going well," said Dumbledore.

"The word I used was 'abominably,' I believe," said Snape.

Dumbledore sighed. "Harry's not a bad student. He's a typical teenage boy in many ways. But if he were half as diligent as his friend Hermione, we may not have had this problem."

Tonks looked thoughtful. "Are you sure it's just a matter of motivating him to study harder? His conduit into You-Know-Who saved Arthur's life. Surely that would make anybody conflicted," she said.

"Yes, but we've impressed upon him the importance of closing this conduit," said Dumbledore.

"Have we?" said Snape, his voice a bit muffled from all the chocolate in his mouth. "Surely knowledge of the Prophecy would provide better motivation, even for a teenager as defiantly average as Potter."

"He's not ready to hear about the Prophecy," argued Dumbledore a bit wearily.

"You mean, you're not ready to tell him," countered Snape. "He's not a child anymore, Albus--he's a sullen teenager seething with resentment over being kept in the dark. As far as he's concerned, you expect him to work hard at extra lessons with his most hated teacher just because you think it's a good idea."

Dumbledore smiled a bit sadly. "I think he hates Dolores more than you, Severus."

"I couldn't be more indiff..."

Dumbledore interjected, "You understand he would have stopped being a child much sooner if we'd told him when you thought we should."

Snape shrugged. "Children often grow up in circumstances that force them to assume larger burdens than they should, usually for no better reason than they picked bad parents."

"You have made your opinions clear on this matter, Severus," said Dumbledore, a note of steel in his voice. "I did not bring you here to re-visit this argument." He turned to Tonks. "I would like to have you at Hogwarts to keep a close watch on Harry. His friends have performed admirably in the past, but I don't want to rely upon students to tell us if something drastic happens."

"Like if Potter becomes possessed by the Dark Lord because he doesn't see any point to learning Occlumency..."

"That will do, Severus." Dumbledore's tone was sharper this time.

Tonks said, "You already have four Order members at the school. Does this mean you want me to pose as someone who can get closer to Harry? Like another student, perhaps?"

Dumbledore smiled. "You always had a highly logical mind, and I recall it served you well in many of your classes. Like Potions, if I remember your OWL results correctly." He looked towards Snape, who scowled in reply. "Severus, you have been working very hard. Maybe you require an assistant."

Snape's eyes widened in alarm. "You wouldn't dare."

Tonks said indignantly, "How can I keep an eye on Harry outside of Potions classes, if I'm in the dungeons all the time?"

Dumbledore raised both his hands. "Forgive me my little joke. Tonks, you will stay in Gryffindor tower with other students. You will have been privately sorted into Gryffindor, after having transferred from Beauxbatons in your final year."

Tonks frowned. "Wait a minute...how could I have been sorted if the hat is locked in your office?"

"I have only just left Hogwarts. Your sorting has already happened. Getting back to your cover story, if I remember correctly, Andromeda did not repudiate all Black family traditions, and saw that you learned French."

Tonks nodded. "Yes, well, mum may have rejected the 'Toujours pur,' and all that, but she believes that learning other languages develops cognitive skills in children. But I'm not sure how well this will work, unless there are no Hogwarts students who are really French. Fleur tells me I have an abominable English accent."

Snape, who had relaxed slightly upon realizing that Dumbledore wasn't moving Tonks into the dungeons, answered, "You're English, and your family moved to France to follow a business opportunity, and moved back after the business failed. We can invent more backstory for you if needed."

Tonks broke into a grin. "This is a fun idea, but how am I going to work as an Auror at the same time that I am going to school and living at Hogwarts?"

Dumbledore reached into a pocket and removed a small device on a chain. Snape made a disgusted sound and looked away.

"You shouldn't need to use this Time-Turner very often," said Dumbledore. "Considering how much you're away from the office, working undercover, anyway."

"It's the same Time-Turner that liberated your cousin," spat Snape.

Tonks accepted the Time-Turner with delight. "I thought they tightened security around these."

"They certainly should have," muttered Snape.

"They did," said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling. "Just as they tightened security around me."

Tonks carefully placed the Time-Turner in her handbag. "Have you thought up a name for me?"

"I have," said Snape smoothly. "You are Dora Black."

"Dora Black. Right," she said, keeping her voice neutral.

With a look of concern, Dumbledore said, "You don't have to be, my dear. You can have an identity of your own devising."

She shook her head. "I was interrogated about being a Black before they would even let me into the training. Like I said then, it doesn't matter where I come from; only who I am."

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, and what choices you make."

A bit peevishly, Snape said, "What she doesn't need is an unnecessarily complicated identity, and nearly telling the truth is the most convincing sort of lie."

Tonks said to Dumbledore, "Severus is right. The stakes are too high for you to worry about hurting my feelings. Dora Black it is."

"Indeed," said Snape, nodding approvingly. "When we go back to the school, you will be your Auror self at first. That way, if we run into Dolores Umbridge, you can explain that you were investigating my background as ordered, and you will follow me to the dungeons. If we don't encounter Umbridge, we will proceed to Minerva McGonagall's office, where she will provide you with robes and your location in Gryffindor tower. And you will morph into your schoolgirl appearance." He regarded her sharply. "A younger version of your current face won't work. You would be recognized by some current Gryffindor students, among others." He ran a finger thoughtfully over his lips. "A face that comes naturally to you would be appropriate."

"No," she replied quickly. "I can morph into a different face from this and maintain it."

He smiled thinly. "You don't always remember to change in the morning."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows but said nothing, instead diplomatically helping himself to another piece of chocolate.

"That was unusual circumstances," she snapped. "I was off-duty. And if I remember correctly, they don't serve firewhisky in Gryffindor tower. They're not Slytherins, see?"

"I've cracked down on the firewhisky-smuggling in the dungeons since you were a student," he retorted defensively. "And isn't it true that Metamorphagi are less clumsy if they assume their natural forms? The less attention you draw to yourself, the better. If your clumsiness forces me to give you more detentions than, say, the Weasley twins, people will take notice."

"Yes, well, between being older, and having successfully completed Auror training, maybe I'll manage not to blow up so many cauldrons this time," she retorted.

"It's not as if your natural face is unattractive," he said.

Dumbledore and Tonks both looked at him, speechless.

"That is to say," he continued smoothly, though a blush was beginning to creep up from under his collar, "I doubt anybody at Hogwarts will remember who you look like, besides me. Nobody still at Hogwarts knew Bella as well as me. It's been nearly twenty years."

"But her photo has been on the front page of the Daily Prophet."

Dumbledore looked at his timepiece. "I really must be going," he said. "I have more than a few time zones to cross before nightfall. The magical mangroves ward themselves after dark, and it's a bit of a bother to break through them when you're a tired old man. I'll leave you two to work out the details."

"You can break through mangrove wards?" gasped Tonks.

Dumbledore replied modestly, "You merely avoid insulting them with excessive flattery. They see right through artifice and mendacity and become just as impenetrable as if they were threatened with curses. Good night, then." He silently Disapparated, leaving Tonks and Snape facing each other in the drawing room.

Tonks took the last piece of chocolate. Feeling Snape's eyes on her, she broke the chocolate in half and offered a piece to him. As she looked up, he looked away, waving her off with an irritated gesture.

"Mangroves," she murmured, popping both pieces of chocolate into her mouth. Her voice a bit muffled, she added, "Wherever he is, it's got better weather than here."

Snape snorted. "Almost every place in the world does, between Reykjavik and Tierra del Fuego." He stood. "I imagine you need to pack. Meet me back here in an hour?"

"Why don't you follow me back to my flat?" said Tonks. "It would be much faster."

He lifted his cup to take another sip, but it was empty, and he set it down and stared at a stain on the carpet. "That is rash," he said softly. "I can't follow you back to your flat."

"Why not?" she replied. "You're the one who's always on about how you're the busiest in the Order, and why doesn't Dumbledore give more tasks to the unemployed members instead of to you and so forth. We go to my flat, I pack, and then we can go straight to the school from there."

He lifted his eyes to meet her gaze, and nodded. "Very well," he conceded, setting down his cup and standing. He followed her as she Disapparated.