Symmetry and Discord

Chapter Three

Veracity and Deception

The woman stared long and hard, her eyelids fixed in a permanent squint. The sun pelted her eyes now, and it stung fiercely. Having only been recently returned to the world outside, her pupils still adjusted to light slower than most. Although she was particularly sensitive to light, the new configuration of her eye muscles gave her a distinct advantage - she could see exceptionally well in the dark. During her years trapped in darkness, she whiled the time away often thinking of herself as a large feral cat, or some other nocturnal, carnivorous animal.

This animal's only instinct - its only goal -- was to sneak up on unsuspecting or sleeping prey and pounce -- tearing her quarry to shreds in a violent blur of bone, tissue, and blood. Her favorite quarry, at least in her recent fantasies, was standing right before her, waiting to cross a busy road - vulnerable, unarmed, and best of all, quite unaware of her presence.

The woman did not move. She simply watched - watched and studied her prey. Like her cat in the daylight, she was hunkered down, hiding from view, awaiting her moment, lying in ambush. She was waiting to decimate and destroy every molecule of the swiftly moving person in her line of sight. Waiting.

Not now, she thought. Now is not the time. The time is not now. Keep waiting. Waiting. Watching. Keep watching. Soon. Soon, very soon. Not now. Must wait. First things first. Things must come first.

Her victim turned a corner, and disappeared from her vantage. Gone. But not long gone. Not gone long. I will see you soon. Soon, very soon.

* * * *

If there was one person Robert Langdon missed while he was in Europe, it was Mrs. Dresner. As a confirmed bachelor - albeit now, maybe a former confirmed bachelor - Robert had learned quickly in his youth to fend for himself in most domestic ways. In other words, in order to eat well, Robert had to learn to cook well. Thanks to Mrs. Dresner, he learned new culinary skills every day.

Mrs. Dresner owned and operated Granny D's Grocery, a block and a half from Robert's home on Concord Avenue. Although Mrs. Dresner's stock was not as extensive as a Boston superstore, and her prices were certainly not as low, Robert didn't mind. He valued the advice, the maternal banter, and most of all, the excellent produce and top-notch meat Mrs. Dresner stocked. She would also provide him with a new, hand-written recipe card every time he shopped there, and would often set aside the ingredients for that particular dish just for Robert.

In the weeks after finals - when he was knee deep in grading essays -- or whenever he was exceptionally busy -- all Robert needed was Granny D's. He would walk into the store, hand Mrs. Dresner his American Express card, and walk out with groceries and recipes enough for three days' worth of easy-to-fix planned meals. Sometimes, she would even surprise him with casserole dishes full of frozen zucchini-tomato pie, fruit and curry chicken, or homemade challah breads. Robert jokingly called these her MRE's - Meals Ready to Eat. All of Mrs. Dresner's grown sons had served in either the US or Israeli military, so she bristled indignantly at the comparison of her cuisine to bland military rations.

After visiting with Mrs. Dresner, Robert walked out of her store with both his vigor and the smile on his face renewed. Somehow, Mrs. Dresner's motherly attentions made Robert forget all about the troubles of the morning. On top of that, Robert had been inspired, his heart lightened, by Mrs. Dresner's charity to others.

Walk into her store, and she takes care of you like family.

Robert watched, a grin creeping across his face, as Mrs. Dresner freely gave a well-piled egg, turkey, and cheese sandwich and a large Milk Chug to a homeless woman. The woman thanked her profusely, and tried to pay with her last seventy-five cents. Of course, Mrs. Dresner would have nothing of it, and invited the poor lady back any time for more.

As the woman headed toward the door, Robert told Mrs. Dresner all about Tonks. As always, when Robert confided in her about his love life, her first question was, "So, Bubulah, are you going to marry this shaineh maidel, or what?" For the first time since knowing Mrs. Dresner, Robert gave an answer other than an unequivocal, "no." Not only did the response shock Mrs. Dresner, "Oh, Bobby, darlink, you're making me feel all heymish inside, you are..." it shocked himself as well.

Another brick falls. Ten damn days.

Robert strode briskly up Concord Avenue, plastic grocery bags dangling from his fingers. His pace continued up his front flagstone walk. He set one handful of plastic bags down on the front stoop, fished his keys out of his pocket, and...

Robert found that the key was unnecessary. Slightly puzzled, he pulled up the welcome mat. The key he left for Tonks was still there. "Funny, but I know I locked this door," Robert muttered to himself. He set down the other handful of bags, and pushed the door open slowly. "Hello?"

He heard a muffled, yet definitely feminine, yelp, and a slight rustling noise. "Tonks, are you in there?" No answer. "Tonks?" Now worried, Robert pushed the door open with force and flew into the front foyer. "Come out. I know you're in here," he tried to sound threatening despite the flutters in his stomach.

Robert scanned the living room. "Come out now, or I call the police." Then he saw it, a slender, feminine set of hands emerged from behind and beneath his countertop.

"Robert, it's only me," Tasha squeaked, "don't call anyone, please? It's just me." She stood up the rest of the way, her hands still raised. She fished in her breast pocket. "I realized I didn't give your key back this morning, and I just came by to..."

"To let yourself in and have another snoop around, right, Natasha?" Robert let out an angry sigh, turned abruptly and collected his grocery bags from outside the door. Slamming the door with his foot behind him, he strode quickly into the kitchen, brushing past Tasha. He placed the bags on the countertop and began rifling through them. "You could have just called me, you know. You didn't have to come sneaking in here and..."

Robert froze. The letters. The letters from the Ministry and Harry -- sitting, out in the open, unfolded and quite readable on the marble countertop. Damn. Damn my sloppiness, Robert thought. I'm an idiot. I am a complete and utter dolt. Robert prayed that Tasha was not in the house long enough to read them. On the other hand, her hiding place was right in front of the letters. She had to have seen them. Damn it all to hell. He tried to nonchalantly unload the remainder of the items. Maybe she didn't see...

"So, Robert," Tasha grabbed a bag and started pulling things out of it. "Where's Nymphadora?" she asked casually.

"Nympha..." Robert stared, his hand hanging over the sack opening. Tonks introduced herself as 'Dora' this morning, not 'Nymphadora.' The only place Tasha could have heard that is in the... ah, sweet Jesus, no. He turned slowly and faced Tasha. "You read my mail, didn't you?" Robert blinked impatiently.

Tasha shook her head - perhaps too fervently. "No, I... I didn't. I just..."

"Please, Natasha, don't lie to me. You know how much I hate that. I'd be less angry if you read them than if you lied to me about it." Robert fixed Tasha with a glare - his father's glare - one that he knew darn well would send her into a tizzy. He often used it whenever he disagreed with her pushiness and somewhat flowery edits. "You already have me pretty sore from your little tirade about Tonks this morning. You're lucky I'm such an easy-going guy, or you'll really see me angry. And you won't like me when I'm angry," Robert joked, ending in a falsely-ominous voice. He lifted the eggs and milk from the counter and loaded them into the right side of the refrigerator.

The questions came pouring out of Tasha's mouth, rapid-fire, one after the other. "Robert, what the holy hell have you gotten yourself into? Is this some kind of new occult thing you're studying? Who are these people? What's a Ministry of Magic? Who is Voldemort? What happened to you? What's a Muggle?" Robert tried hard to ignore her, but the questions just kept coming.

Robert pulled his hands up in a sharp gesture, his palms facing outward. "Enough, Tasha, just stop asking questions." His voice caught in his throat. "Tasha, you - you are a Muggle -- and therefore, you should lay the hell off." He hefted the bottle of juice and the fresh produce bags and nearly threw the delicate tomatoes into the crisper. "You read something that was without question not for you to see. It was absolutely none of your God damn business. If I could make you forget it I would, but I don't know how to do that particular sp..." Robert blew out his breath, and slammed the refrigerator door shut.

"Spell?" Tasha folded her arms in front of her and leaned on the countertop. "Was that what you were going to say?"

Robert remained quiet for a long moment. He pressed his hand against the top of the steel refrigerator door, and put his full weight into it. He sank his head into his chest and stared at the floor. I blew it again. I blew it. Langdon, you're not as smart as you think. Book-smart, but horribly naïve. She knows now, and there's no going back. Tonks isn't here to modify her memory. I have to explain it to her. I have to. Maybe she'll understand. I've trusted her with bigger secrets before - the Vatican Conclave, and the Illuminati Diamond - she was the only one I confided in about that and she hasn't breathed a word of it. "I have to trust you, Tasha. Now more than ever, I have to trust you. Please, tell me that I can."

Tasha crossed the kitchen and placed her hands on Robert's shoulders. Robert expected to steel under her touch, but instead, he felt warm and comfortable. "You can trust me, Langdon. Not a word. Not a word to anyone. Anyone, I promise."

Robert turned and leaned his back against the cold refrigerator door. "Paolo and Blaise Zabini are both dead."

Tonks let out a gasp. "I remember them. Paolo was your best friend, your prize student! How? How did it happen? Was there an accident?"

"No, they were both killed - murdered. Paolo called me when I was in London and asked me to go to his place up in Scotland for vacation. You know that already. When I got there, it was ... different ... but it certainly wasn't a vacation." Robert looked around the room, seemingly searching for guidance. "Where the hell do I start?"

"How about this Order of Merlin thing. It sounds pretty big."

"It is," Robert said, "it's like the Congressional Medal of Honor, but it's given to wiz...," Robert still had difficulty saying it. "Wizards."

"And you got one of these medals."

She didn't even flinch when I said, 'wizards,' not even a blink... "Yes, apparently so." Robert pointed to the Minister's letter.

"What did you do to get that?"

"I'm not exactly sure. All I did was solve some puzzles, nothing else. I was just there. I didn't save anyone, or help anyone." Robert shook his head. All of the memories, all of the horrible images came flooding back to him. "Paolo was killed by this horrible - thing - and Blaise..."

"What happened to Blaise? He was always such a sweet kid."

"He did the wizard equivalent of taking a bullet for me, and died because of it." Robert bit his lower lip. "It wasn't just a bullet, not a bullet at all. I should be honest with you if I'm going to go this far. It was a curse. A curse that causes instant death. If it had hit me, I wouldn't be here talking to you right now."

Tasha gave a low whistle. "Did many other... people... die?"

"Too many, in my book. Blaise and Paolo were more than enough. Two too many. One of Voldemort's followers was killed too, Rodolphus Lestrange. And his wife, Bellatrix, she was a follower too, a dangerous one, I guess. She escaped, and now she may be after Tonks. That scares me above all, Tash."

"And what about this Harry Potter kid?" She pointed to Harry's letter.

"An amazing boy," Robert mused, "he was the one who ultimately got rid of Voldemort, or so I've been told. I was knocked out when it happened. Voldemort was horrible. Imagine a seventeen-year-old boy capturing and killing Saddam Hussein or Adolph Hitler single-handedly. Same idea, kind of. Voldemort was much worse."

Tasha flinched momentarily. "Was he - was Voldemort the one who..."

"Almost killed me, yes. Killed Blaise, yes." Why the hell is she so calm about all this?

"How did you end up in the hospital? Were you hurt?"

Robert rubbed his temples and clenched his eyes shut. "Tasha, I feel like the more I tell you the more psychotic you're going to think me. How much more of this do I have to explain to you?"

"All of it, Langdon. All of it. It's funny, but I believe you. If I hadn't seen these letters, I'd think you're ready for the loony bin, but, it's all right here in green and brown." She indicated the letters.

She believes me. Robert felt a modicum of relief. "One of Voldemort's followers - I have no idea who -- shot at me with a stunning spell. It hit me in the chest, and my heart stopped, okay? V-Fib. I nearly died because of it. Tonks got me to a hospital and I recovered just fine. A little worse for wear, a couple of broken ribs, but fine."

"One more question, Robert."

Robert blew out a breath. "Might as well. Shoot."

"Are you, really a... I mean, can you..."

"Am I a wizard? Can I do magic?" Robert scrubbed at his mouth and looked up at Tasha.

Tasha regarded him with a searching gaze. "That's what I'm asking you."

Robert closed his eyes and exhaled. "I don't know, Tash. I really don't. There are so many strange things going on with me right now I don't know. If it wasn't for Tonks, I don't know how I'd be able to handle it all."

"Is she magical too?"

"Very much so," Robert said, "Tonks is amazing. And, she's taught me a great deal - not just about magic. I can do things I couldn't do before - sometimes I don't even know I'm doing them, and it scares the daylights out of me, Tash. I mean, I'm forty-five years old! Why now? But you know, the more I think on it the more I wonder. How did I survive that fall into the well when I was a kid? How did I survive that jump from the helicopter last year - and without a parachute? How could I get past two lethally-trained assassins with my life intact? Impossible, right? Tash, there are things I've seen in the past ten days that would send you scrabbling up a tree - werewolves, dementors, living art, torturous curses and hexes, potions, floating candles, you name it. I never thought they were real until now."

Tasha blinked, but remained silent. Robert was grateful for the lack of interruption.

"You know, Tash, I am truly and honestly having real trouble wrapping my brain around this whole thing, this magic thing. However, the longer I'm with Tonks, the more I learn, and the more I do...," Ten damn days..."well, yes."

"Yes what?"

Robert was surprised at his readiness to finally admit the truth. He was even more surprised that Tasha was the one who brought it out of him. "Yes, Tasha. I'm a wizard, I suppose. I can do magic. Real, true, honest-to-God magic."

Tasha's eyes gave off a strange look. Robert couldn't tell if it was fear, excitement, titillation, or a combination of all three. "Show me."

"What?"

"I said, show me. Show me what you can do. I want to see for myself."

Robert had never been asked to perform magic before outside of training with Tonks. It had always been accidental or without his knowledge. He suddenly felt nervous and a bit sick. "I haven't been trained, and I'm not very good at it yet. I don't know if I can just show..."

Tasha reached around her and lifted Blaise's wand from the countertop. She handed it to Robert. "I take it this is what you need?"

"How did you remem... I mean, know that?" Robert fingered the wand, his nerves increasing.

Tasha's demeanor remained shockingly steady. "Wizards have wands, don't they? I just assumed that stick there was yours."

"No, actually, it was Blaise's." Robert sniffed slightly and turned the wand around in his hands. "It was Blaise's wand. His mother, Victoria, wanted me to have it."

"I'm sorry Robert." Tasha crossed the kitchen, reached her arms around Robert's neck and held him tightly. She still reeked of stale cigarettes, and the scent stung Robert's eyes slightly. Her words, spoken into Robert's neck, were muffled, but he understood every single one. "I'm so, so very sorry. It's okay, Robert. Everything will be just fine. Just fine. I promise."

When Robert felt Tasha stroke the hairs on the back of his head, he gently broke the embrace. "Thanks," he said weakly. "I guess you want that demonstration now."

Robert adjusted the wand in his hand, and aimed at the open bag of apples on the kitchen table. As he prepared to give the incantation, "Accio, apple," the door burst open, and Tonks ran in at full-speed.

"Robert, no!" Tonks yelled. She drew her wand from her sweatpants, aimed it at Tasha, and screamed, "Obliviate! Stupefy!" Before Robert could react, the combined spells hit Tasha in the back of the head, forcing her forward. Tasha slumped face-first on to the hardwood floor in a heap of black fabric and blonde hair.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Robert yelled. "Tonks, are you out of your mind?"

Tonks, panting, shook her head. "No, but I think you are, mate. What you think you're doing spilling the beans to her anyway? She's a bloody Muggle, Robert! Muggles aren't supposed to know about magic!"

Robert felt stupid and sheepish. "I got a letter from the Ministry today. She came in here before I got home. She read it, and had questions. How could I lie to her when she read everything in the letter? It was all there, all laid out for her."

"Three things, Langdon," Tonks held up three fingers. "One, destroy all wizarding correspondence as soon as you read it, especially if we're going to be living here among Muggles like this bint. Two, you need to learn the memory modification charm. No question about it."

"And three?"

"I saw you through the window. If I ever catch her sweeting on you like that again I'll give her a bat-bogey hex she'll never forget, and then I'll turn it on you as well. Clear?"

Robert laughed. "Crystal. So, will she forget everything, then?" God, I hope she does.

Tonks walked into the kitchen and knelt beside the unconscious Tasha. "I'm best at memory charms, but let's hope so, for your sake." Tonks looked up and eyed Robert wearily. "What's wrong?"

"I admitted it, Tonks. To her. I admitted it. I can say it now."

"Say what, Robert? What are you on about?"

"That I, Robert Langdon, am a wizard. Wizard, wizard, God damn wizard."

Tonks stood up and threw her arms around Robert's shoulders. "About time, love. About bloody time. But you do have a long way to go, remember that."

"I do," Robert said. "Can you revive her so she can leave and we can have breakfast in peace? I'm making omelettes and bacon."

"You're cooking?" Tonks asked, incredulously.

"Yes, I'm cooking, and I'm darn good at it too." The smile had returned to Robert's face, and he had Tonks to thank for it. "Do your thing so we can get the day started."

Tonks aimed her wand at Tasha, and for the second time that day, intoned, "Ennervate." Tasha moaned slightly. Robert knelt down next to her. "Tasha? Tasha, are you okay? You took a little fall there. Tasha?"

Tasha started. "Robert, what the..." She pushed up on her hands and got to her feet shakily. "Yeah, I'm okay. Clumsy today I guess, but okay." Tasha brushed off her suit. "What was I here for?"

"You said you wanted to return my key." Robert held out his hand.

"Oh yeah." Tasha fished in her pocket, retrieved the key, and handed it to Robert.

"Wotcher, Tash! You sure you're okay? Do you want us to take you to a hospital?" Tonks asked.

Tasha wheeled around. "No, thanks, Dora. I'll be...your hair!"

"Oh," Tonks' eyes flew open. "I, um, stopped at the salon before going on my run. Like it?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Tasha was, thankfully, still groggy from the stunner. Otherwise, stopping at a salon before an intense run would make no sense whatsoever.

"Thanks. Well, we'll see you later, Tasha. Before you fell, you said you had to get going, right?"

"Yeah, I have to get...going, Dora, thanks." For the second time that day, a dazed and confused Tasha collected her purse and stumbled out the front door. Tonks shut it behind her and turned again on Robert. The look in her eyes startled Robert.

"Langdon, you bloody idiot. I love you, but you're a bloody," Tonks walked right in front of him, snaked her arms around his middle, "ever loving," pressed her body close to his, "eejit," and kissed him soundly on the lips.

I should be this foolish every day, Robert thought. After a long moment, Robert's mind turned a one-eighty, conjuring up a frightening revelation.

Tasha never asked about Bellatrix Lestrange.