I Can Be Whatever I Want, My Dear

I Can Be Whatever I Want, My Dear

What annoyed her most about her date - apart from the fact that he was her date - was that savoir faire that allowed him to fit in wherever he wished. She had deliberately taken her to a noisy, smoky, cramped Hoxton club - not one of the big successful ones, but one known only to wizards in the know;. She had told him that this was where the best music and the best DJs were to be found, but - while this was true - the reason why she had taken him there was for the pleasure of watching him out of his depth. Instead of which, he had calmly walked in as if he owned the place, taken a place near the wall, watched the dancers with interest - and without making the mistake of trying to join them - and had somehow drifted into a conversation with a few clubbers, who were now industriously trying to drink him under the table. Funny how some kinds of macho behaviour never change, thought Tonks. And then: silly fools, don't they realize that they cannot possibly get Lucius Malfoy drunk if he doesn't want to be?

Suddenly, an altercation blew up at the other end of the hall. There was shouting and abuse, the noise of fisticuffs, screams from some women, and one of the amps was knocked over. Tonks was disturbed; as an Auror - a kind of high-level magical policewoman - dance-hall brawls were not exactly her remit, but she could not ignore one, either. On the other hand, many of her friends there did not know that she was a cop, and if she revealed it now, her standing might suffer.

Before she had made up her mind, Lucius strode authoritatively to the centre of the dancefloor. His voice, magically amplified, struck the ceiling and echoed back down to all the revellers: NOW THEN, WHAT'S GOING ON HERE? Then he drew his wand: purple strands of magic flowed out from its tip, each reaching out to a brawler and reeling him - or her - in like a fish on a line. Within a minute, half the dancefloor was cleared, as all the revellers crowded at one end to watch what was going on. Lucius still had his wand out, and all the brawlers hung suspended between floor and ceiling. His left hand reached within his robes, and drew out a badge.

"Lucius Malfoy," he said. "Special legate of the Ministry. Now, care to tell me what this was about?"

The brawlers just hung there, angry and sullen.

"Lost your tongues, eh? OK, I dare say a couple of days in Ministry detention will restore them." And the brawlers suddenly vanished. Everyone looked dumbstruck: they realized that he had just Apparated the lot of them - an application of formidable magic.

"I thought I'd better try and manage the situation myself," said Lucius later, as they were making their way from the club; "I thought maybe your friends there did not know you were an Auror, and that you might have lost street cred if you had pulled a badge. I had none to lose."

"Where did you send them, then?" asked Tonks. She was really annoyed: not only that Lucius should practically steal her job as a law-enforcement officer, but also that he should do it with such damnable coolness and efficiency. She knew for a fact that she could not have put an end to that brawl without at least one display of her legendary clumsiness.

"To the Ministry Detention of Petty Offenders facility," answered Lucius coolly. "That badge is not just for display, Nymphadora." ("Don't call me that!") "I really do have a permanent special position at the Ministry. It does not normally include powers of arrest, but I dare say that the Petty Offenders people won't mind; I'm sure I saw at least three well-known offenders in that motley crowd I sent over."

"Like who?" said Tonks resentfully.

"Like Studs Peggis, Dorotheus Stinger and Mortlake Smith - the man they call the Hammer. Good enough for ya?" retorted Lucius, deliberately imitating her accent. How dared he, thought Tonks; how dared he, no less a villain than any of them, play the cop so well. How dared he practically teach her her own job. She should have recognized Smith the Hammer at least; she mentally kicked herself. But when she replied, it was calmly.

"You make quite a good cop, Uncle Lucius. Wanna switch sides?"

"Why should I, my dear? Are you trying to tell me that... whatever side I am on... is not the right side? Besides," he smiled, "I can be whatever I want."

"I've seen that." Then Tonks the Auror became thoughtful. "If Studs and Smith the Hammer were involved, then this may have been more than a brawl. Would the Shane gang just start trouble in a night-club for no particular reason?"

"They might, you know. You Aurors always think of them in terms of definite offences, of things you can take to the court and make stick... so perhaps you ascribe more purpose to them than they may actually have. Remember that they became professional crims in the first place because they actually like violence. They like beating up people and frightening them. That may be all there is to it."

"Dear me, dear me. Such psychological insight, Uncle Lucius. Tell me, how does what you just said apply to your dear sister-in-law, my aunt? Or to people even closer to home?"

She saw that blow hit home; for an instance, Lucius' urbane mask dissolved, to show the anger and tension beneath. But it was no more than a second; when he answered, his tone was perfectly reasonable and even conciliatory.

"Bellatrix is in jail for political offences, not for racketeering. But yes, I will admit that if she had not found a cause to dedicate her life, she might have become quite simply some kind of thug. That sort of thing was in her from very far back... she was scary, even as a child."

There was nothing she could answer to that, so she went back to the brawl. "You may be right about Smith the Hammer and his friends, but tomorrow I'll check into Auror Central and speak with... their case officer" (she still did not want to mention names in front of Lucius) "just in case. Apart from anything else, the Aurors ought to know that they are currently under arrest."

"Tomorrow? Don't you mean today?" And they both laughed. Making their way from one of Hoxton's back roads to Kingsland Road, and under the disused railway bridges, they turned south towards Shoreditch High Road. Lucius had a flat in the City (he would) and Tonks a pad in Brixton, so they could go some of the road together. They kept meeting revellers on the way home, both wizard and Muggle, many of them intoxicated, many of them pairs of boys and girls - or, more rarely pairs of boys or pairs of girls; not one of them was more than half Lucius' age, and Tonks still found it bewildering and vaguely irritating, how easily her uncle, a cardboard-cutout stereotype of the middle-aged upper class male, had managed to fit into this world of teenagers and loud music.

Immediately, he proceeded to upset her preconceptions again. "So how did this whole Hoxton phenomenon start?"

"Merlin knows," she answered. "You just wake up one morning and find that everyone is talking about these clubs, and that all of a sudden they are the place to be. I think this time it is mainly a Muggle thing, but of course Wizards have set up their own... like the one we were at tonight. You know, Uncle Lucius, Muggles do have a sort of leadership in music."

"Oh, I'd never deny Muggle musical abilities. I used to know John Lennon, you know." That hit her like a blow in the stomach. "He was brilliant. I have a first printing of Imagine, I always thought it would become a classic...Imagine there's no Heaven, no Hell below us, above us only sky... That's a nice thought." He was speaking more to himself than to her, and she was at a loss for an answer, until he relieved her by saying "Well, this is where I turn off. My flat is over there... Good night, Numphadora. It was a pleasant evening. Can we do it again - at a place of my choosing, this time?"

"Why not, Uncle Lucius? But at one condition."

"What condition?"

"Don't ever call me Nymphadora again! OK?"

"OK... Tonks."

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"...incidentally, Draco, do you know who your father is trying to [expletive] this time?"

"Well, Mother, do you?" answered Draco with a broad grin on his face.

"My own niece!" And Narcissa burst into incontrollable laughter.

Draco joined her. "Yes [HA HA HA] I knew... The old [expletive]! HAHAHAHAH! Do you suppose he's got tired of the ordinary kind of affair, that he has to go chasing after Auror [expletive]?" More loud laughter. "You know, I could never concentrate on [expletive], if I thought the girl was about to slap twenty-seven major charges on me and haul me off to jail in my dressing-gown. Maybe it's the thrill of danger?"

"I don't know... if that's the case, he's even further off his chump than he's always been" said Narcissa, sniggering. "My view is that he's just slumming. She is a Mudblood, you know." And then she had another thought: "Mind you, Nymphadora is a Metamorphmagus, which might be a very interesting ability to have in bed... Well, one thing I have to say: being married to Lucius Malfoy is never boring."

By the time the mother and son left their private apartments and appeared in the staterooms, they had completely dropped their amused and vulgar expressions in favour of their normal bored, superior smirk. It would not do to let servants and House-Elves know what terms they used in private for the household's lord and master. Which was a perfectly useless precaution; because, away from Malfoy ears, the human servants, at least, used expressions quite as salty. And they knew just as much.

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"I'm worried about Tonks, Albus."

"I am as well, Alastor. When a young woman suddenly starts not turning up in the evenings and making excuses... well, the explanation is usually clear. But why should she keep her young man a secret from us? We are not her parents."

"Perhaps it's a young woman."

"That would not bother the Order of the Phoenix."

"Indeed. No; the only reason to keep things secret from us is that... male or female... it is someone she would be ashamed to show to the Order of the Phoenix... someone in the opposite camp."

"Well, you look into it, Alastor. I hate to have to spy upon one of our own, but we have been too trusting before now."

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If the air could have sparkled, it would have. The Merlin's Club was the oldest and most select magical men's club in Britain, tradition-bound, comfortable, immensely rich. Tonight was Ladies' Night, and the commonly excluded sex was making a grand show of itself, with glittering gowns, jewels of fabulous sheen and size, and enough beauty to make Hollywood look like an old spinster's home. After all, there is no point being a witch if you cannot make yourself look splendid any time you want. The conversation was hushed, unobtrusive; the music was cool jazz, energetic yet relaxing.

Into this luminous display of class and wealth strode Lucius Malfoy, confident and secure, squiring a most remarkable young lady. She was not as outstandingly attractive as some of the guests now present, but she carried herself with an air that everyone could feel. Her face looked like Meryl Streep's, with luminous complexion and neat, aristocratic features; and her dress was, even by the standards of the company, stylish and blatantly expensive, clearly an original creation. People swarmed around to be introduced - and this is where Lucius was hoping Tonks would make a fool of herself. To just look stylish would be less than child's play to a Metamorphmagus; but to be stylish in action, word and deed, took acting ability that he simply could not see in Tonks, with her childish simplicity and her crude South London accent.

She proceeded to disappoint him at once. She was charming and gracious without being gushing, and the Midwest American accent she affected was attractive without being intrusive. When he introduced as Ingrid Michelson, from America, she said politely but firmly: "Swedish, if you please. A few years in America do not just suddenly make us American." Lucius was delighted with the faint tone of unconscious arrogance she managed, so typical of some of the old Pureblood families.

"You - you are one of the Michelsons of Dalsland? I thought they had all vanished in the Hammering!"

"Well, some of us vanished to America, sir."

"Yes, I see... Any chance of you ever coming back? Sweden is in dire need of replenishing the wizarding population.... You'd be welcomed with open arms, I assure you."

"I believe you, but some of our elders are still traumatized... I don't think we can go back home as long as my grandparents live. They still have nightmares..."

It's amazing, thought Tonks, how quickly the lore of my childhood comes back to me; all the things Mother taught me because I was the child of a Black and sooner or later I must go back to magic. I remember the names, the circumstances, the behaviour. She drifted from person to person, making small talk, amusing and being amused. She felt almost at home. And so did Lucius - somewhat to his surprise.

It was an exceptional evening.

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"Tonks, I don't think we should do this any more."

"I see... why?"

"Lots of reasons. First, I started this under false pretences. I wanted to see if I could pump you for information. It turns out that you are a lot more clever than I thought, so that is a wash-out."

"My dear Uncle Lucius, do you think for a minute I didn't see through that from the start?"

"I don't - now. I know now that there is more to you than clumsiness and an undeserved gift as a Metamorphmagus. Second, I'm getting to like you too much. We are enemies, and I think we should stay that way. Neither of us will change their ways, and it could only confuse us to keep seeing each other. This has been a waste of time... a very pleasant waste of time, truth be told."

"Well, well, well. I guess you're right... but if it was a matter of my own inclinations, I'd love to carry on. If you weren't my uncle, and a murderous conniving Death Eater with a piece of old leather where your conscience should be, I would tell you you're bloody sexy."

"And if you weren't my niece and a sanctimonious little berk who could not hold a teacup without dropping it and who uses the ugliest accent in Britain for choice, I would tell you you're quite attractive," answered Lucius, running his fingers through her hair. "But I think we'd better call this off, hadn't we? Before we get in too deep."

"Yes, I think we'd better." They kissed once - one kiss to pay for all - and went their separate ways. But it was too late: eyes had already seen them.

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"...is that so? Because it looked as though you were getting on like a house on fire, you and Nymphadora! Or do you kiss all Aurors you meet on the mouth?"

"Suppose I did, Narcissa, it was one kiss! One [expletive] kiss! Do I look into your affairs?"

"I don't literally get into bed with the enemy, you ninny! Do you ever stop to think a minute, or did the gods give you a brain only to weigh down that swollen head of yours?"

"They gave me one so I can overcome the temptation to strangle my pest of a wife. And that may not even have been that much of a favour."

"Oh, I see. So, when you go after Nymphadora, a member of the Auror Coirps that would like nothing better than to send us all to Azkaban with the Dark Lord to keep us company, you were thinking, were you?"

"I was. I wanted to see whether I could surprise some secrets from Tonks, if you want to know."

"Ahh. You were going to fish them from Nymphadora's throat with your tongue."

"She doesn't like to be called Nymphadora."

"And that's a reason to change her name? You are so-o-o concerned with her wishes! You know, Lucius, if you want me to believe you're not infatuated with the little tart, you're going about it quite the wrong way!"

"I am not... Oh, [expletive], woman, have it your own way. Keep making up your own charges. Keep believing your own fantasies. I haven't had sex with Tonks, I haven't had an affair with Tonks, I've hardly even [expletive] kissed her, and I [expletive] well should have done the [expletive] lot, since I'm going to be treated as if anyway!"

"Look, Father," Draco broke in, "whatever it is you have done, do you realize how dangerous it is for someone in your position to be seen with an Auror at all times of the day and night? You say you are trying to get information from her: have you cleared it with the Dark Lord?"

Lucius went pale, and stammered. "You see?" said Narcissa grimly. "We have kept a lid on it, Draco and I. If anyone else had found out how often you've been with darling Tonks, honey, the high jump is not all you'd be for. Your own son has more sense than you have."

"Yes," said Lucius through gritted teeth, "and some day I will certainly compensate him properly for his wise and valuable advice on my private business. Meanwhile, can we at least put an end to this?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" retorted Narcissa viciously. The quarrel went on; on and in circles, repetitious circles, which there would be no point repeating here. And Lucius, more than once, found himself thinking ruefully: I can be whatever I want, my dear? Yes, indeed... when my family does not object.

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"Now look here, Moody, if you want to charge me with anything, then do it and go to Hell!" said Tonks in a rage. "I don't know what this continuous questioning is in aid of, and I don't care any more. I haven't done anything wrong, I haven't told Uncle Lucius so much as one name or date, and I guarantee I haven't been mind-read! So what on Earth is this investigation about?"

"Do you want us to be brutal about it? It is about whether you can be trusted. One does not kiss Lucius Malfoy on the mouth and stay unstained."

"It was one kiss! One [expletive] [expletive] kiss! And if you want to know, it was a farewell kiss! Before we get in too deep, we both said!"

"Ah. So you were getting in too deep?" And the interrogation went on and on, hour after hour; until Tonks, having barely managed to convince Moody and Dumbledore - with the help of an exhausting Veritaserum session - that she was still trustworthy - staggered out of the room and went in search of a Butterbeer. I can be whatever I want, my dear? she thought ruefully; not if my friends don't like it, though.