Harry Potter and the Soul Shatterer

Stupid Noble Reasons

Even though it was still early, the narrow streets of London's King's Cross district were already drowned in shadows when Uncle Vernon's mini-van parked in front of the spot where number twelve, Grimmauld Place should have been located.

"So this is it," said Vernon, as he looked over his shoulder at Harry. "Now, show us the way, lad!"

Harry got out of the van, walked towards the nearby number 11, and then turned around, looking lost. "It's been a while, I don't exactly remember the way," he said. "Why don't you look at your map? Maybe there's another street with the same name!"

While Uncle Vernon was unfolding his oversized map of Central London, fuming, Harry took a quick look around. The street was deserted. Good. Closing his eyes, he repeated mentally the formula he had learned from Mad-Eye Moody, a veteran member of the Order:

"The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix are at number twelve, Grimmauld Place."

The old house of Black appeared out of nowhere, as dirty and decrepit as it was when Harry visited it for the last time, more than a year ago.

Harry turned towards the van. "I found it! Come on!" he called.

Vernon and Humphrey looked at the house, dumbfounded. "I'd swear it wasn't there a moment ago-" Vernon began to say, but Harry cut him short. "You must have looked the wrong way: do you think I could have built it in only ten seconds?" He gave his uncle an impatient look. "So, do you want to see it, or not?"

Reluctantly, Vernon and his guest followed Harry across the neglected patch of grass, up the stone steps, and watched as Harry knocked at the door with the snake-shaped knocker. With a creaky noise, the door opened. "No lock? The bloody place's in urgent need of repairs!" Harry heard Mr. Humphrey mumbling behind him.

As they entered inside the dark hall, Harry noticed that the gas lamps were lit -the house was still inhabited. The scent of mold and old wood penetrated his nostrils, waking up in him memories of happier days, when Sirius and Dumbledore were still alive.

A gasping sound brought his attention back to the two men behind him. "A- are they for real?" stammered Mr. Humphrey, pointing at the stuffed heads of house-elves on the wall. "Of course, they're not...are they?" asked Vernon, in a hesitant tone.

Harry smiled, without answering. This will be a very short visit, he thought.

"Mind if I sit down?" asked Mr. Humphrey, whose knees looked by now quite wobbly. Without waiting for an answer, he collapsed in a vast armchair with lion paws-like legs -only to jump out of it a moment after. "OUCH! It bit me!" he screamed, clutching his large backside.

"N-nonsense!" replied Uncle Vernon, in a tottering voice. "You sat on a nail, or-" He broke off, as they all heard a growling sound distinctly coming from the chair itself.

"V-Vernon, m-m-maybe we should rec-c-onsider the whole thing?" stuttered Mr. Humphrey, livid.

Before Uncle Vernon could reply, a door suddenly opened at the end of the corridor. There, in the middle of a thick cloud of red smoke, stood a crooked old woman with greenish skin, long matted grey hair covered with cobwebs, a long and warty nose, and enormous, bloodshot eyes.

"AHAAA! Muggles! Exactly what I needed for my recipe!" she shrieked, wielding a ladle in one bony hand and a huge kitchen knife in the other. "Come here, piggy, piggy, piggy!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!"

Bawling with fear, Vernon and Humphrey turned on their heels and scrambled towards the exit. As they tried to get past Harry, they bumped on a large curtain on the wall and pushed it aside, revealing another terrifying vision: that of an old yellow-skinned woman in a black cap -Sirius' late mother- whose portrait on the wall was moving and screeching at them:

"MUGGLES! MUGGLES IN MY HOUSE! BEGONE, YOU TWO-LEGGED VERMIN, SCUM OF THE EARTH!"

Completely terror-stricken, Uncle Vernon and Mr. Humphrey hurled themselves at the door, but as they tried to open it, they both tripped in the carpet, and tumbled down the steps outside. By the time Uncle Vernon had found his car keys on the sidewalk, his associate had already scampered away, gesticulating and screaming on top of his voice.

As he was opening the van's door with a trembling hand, Uncle Vernon spotted Harry, who was standing on the doorstep of the old house, smiling at him. "We -we'll talk later about this, boy!" he shouted at his nephew. "In the meantime, consider yourself grounded! And -and sacked!"

He got in, closed the door, tried to start the engine, flooded it, and finally managed to start it. Harry looked as the mini-van bumped into a street sign and a fire hydrant before pulling out and driving away at full speed in the direction taken by Mr. Humphrey.

There goes my brilliant business career, thought Harry without any trace of regret.

He went back into the hallway, past the curtains he had managed to close. As he shut the door, he noticed that the old green-skinned witch was still in the corridor, glaring at him and grinning.

"What about you, boy?" she sniggered. "Are you willing to be part of my new experiment?"

"Wotcher, Tonks," said Harry, grinning back.

The old witch's smile vanished as she stared at him, her bulging eyes wide open with amazement. "But, how did you find out-?"

"The sneakers really don't match the rest!" replied Harry, pointing at her feet.

"Darn!" spat the old witch, looking down. "I knew I forgot something! I really must be getting old..."

She closed her eyes, as though she was intensely trying to remember something, and then, before Harry's eyes, turned into a young witch with a heart-shaped face and spiky black hair.

"You definitely look better that way," said Harry.

"Thanks," said the young witch, with a shy smile. "Merlin, I never thought that one day I would mess up a good disguise like this one! Maybe you do have the potential to become an Auror, Harry!"

Harry smiled back, flattered. Besides being a member of the Order, Nymphadora Tonks was an Auror, and coming from her, such a compliment was indeed music to his ears, as he wished to become a Death Eater catcher like her.

"And what is that 'experiment' you were working on when you were so rudely interrupted?" he asked, pointing at the red smoke coming out of the open door.

"Want to see? Come in, you'll be the first to try!" said Tonks, looking excited.

They both entered the smoke-filled room, which happened to be the kitchen. There, on an antique stove, stood a huge smoking cauldron filled with a boiling reddish mixture. Tonks scooped her ladle in it and handed it to Harry. "Taste this!" she told him. Harry took the ladle, blew on it, and swallowed a mouthful of the mixture. His face brightened. "It's delicious!" he exclaimed.

"Isn't it?" said Tonks, beaming with pride. "That was my Mum's specialty; I've been working on it for hours!"

Harry took another spoonful. "Do you really put Muggles in it?" he asked jokingly.

Tonks laughed. "Of course not, silly! But, speaking of Muggles, I believe you owe me a little explanation. What were they doing here with you? And why are you so eager to dress like them?" she asked, looking disapprovingly at Harry's oversized suit.

"Oh, that's a long story," said Harry. "I'll tell you everything but I'd love to have some more of your Mum's magic dish first. I'm starving."

Tonks pointed her wand at a nearby cupboard, and a pair of bowls and spoons gently landed on the kitchen table. As they ate, Harry told his friend about the events that led to his unexpected visit at the Order's headquarters. By the time he was through with his story, Tonks was laughing so hard that her eyes were drowned in tears.

"Stop it! Enough!" she gasped. "Boy, are those Muggles weird! I'll never thank my Dad enough for taking up magic!"

Harry was happy to see Tonks laugh again. She had looked so sad lately -and for good reasons. Nevertheless, he knew that he would soon have to put an end to her good mood: he had to know what was going on in the Wizard world since he had left Hogwarts.

"So, what's going on with the Order?" He finally said. "I mean, ever since-" He didn't finish his sentence, and Tonks' smile faded. They both fell silent, neither wanting to talk about Dumbledore's death. In the end, Tonks gathered enough courage to talk. "Well, we are mostly trying to keep our heads low for now," she said. "What happened last June sure was a terrible blow for all of us, as you might guess." She gulped another spoonful.

"Where are the others? Are you here all by yourself?" Harry asked, looking around.

"No, Mad-Eye was here too. He's usually on the lookout upstairs. That's how he saw you lot coming. At first he wanted to turn your uncle into a toad, but I convinced him to let me do things my way," she said with a smirk. "Right now, he must be busy putting a memory charm on your uncle's friend."

"So he should be back here soon, then," said Harry, glad at the thought of seeing the old ex-Auror again.

"Oh no, not yet, first he has to report to-" She stopped in the middle of her sentence. "Er, would you like some more?" she asked uncertainly, pointing at the bowls.

"Reporting to whom?" Harry asked, aware that she was trying to hide something.

Without answering, Tonks waved her wand and the bowls and spoons flew to the sink. "Come on, whom is he reporting to?" Harry insisted. "Surely not to McGonagall, she never belonged to the -"

He stopped, as the truth suddenly dawned on him. "Tonks," he said, slowly, "are you trying not to tell me that Mad-Eye is reporting to the Ministry?"

Tonks nodded silently. "So that's it, then!" Harry flared up at her. "Dumbledore's been dead for barely a month and you are already busy undoing what he took years to build!"

Tonks looked up. "Harry, you can't say that," she said softly, as though she was trying to reason an unruly toddler. "Things have changed. We need to stick together, now, more than ever. It's the only way we can win this war."

But Tonks' words only succeeded in making Harry angrier. "Tonks, Dumbledore took pains to keep the Ministry from meddling with the Order!" he said, his voice rising. "Have you forgotten how they treated us -and him- when Fudge was in charge? How do you think Sirius would feel like if he knew that you are turning his house over to the very same people who have kept him in Azkaban for years!"

Tonks sighed, but managed to keep her calm. "Harry, this is all history. Scrimgeour really knows what's at stake. He won't repeat Fudge's mistakes. He's an ex-Auror, like most of us: the other side can't just buy him, like it did with Fudge."

Harry was apparently not convinced. "Oh yeah? Well, if your new boss really had a clue about what's going on, he wouldn't keep innocent people like Stan Shunpike in jail just to please the crowd!" he hissed.

"There are many things you don't know about Stan Shunpike, Harry," said Tonks, coldly. Harry raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Tonks looked suddenly very tense. "There are new directives that we Aurors have to observe. All I can tell you is the Ministry is now engaged in less... conventional types of operations, and for us all this means that we must keep our mouths shut." She broke off.

Harry wasn't about to give up so easily. "Do the others also agree on this? I mean, sharing information and the headquarters with the Ministry?" he asked.

"For one, the number twelve remains the property of the Order -and yours, of course," said Tonks hurriedly. "The Ministry still doesn't know its location; that was part of Sirius' last will -and Dumbledore's too. As for us... well, both Kingsley and Mad-Eye agree with me that we should give a chance to Scrimgeour to prove himself."

"What about Lupin?" Harry asked, but as soon as he had mentioned the name of his former Dark Arts Defense teacher, he regretted having done so. Tonks turned away from him, looking hurt. "I'm sorry, Tonks," said Harry, "I shouldn't have-"

"It's okay, you have the right to ask," she replied, still avoiding Harry's gaze. "Remus has been gone for weeks, and, to be honest, I have no idea where he is." She took a deep breath. "Officially, he's still spying on -well, y'know, people like him..."

"Werewolves?" asked Harry. Tonks jolted, as if he had said a dirty word, but kept on talking. "The truth is that he's on a personal vendetta against Greyback for taking part in Dumbledore's murder. The idiot," she muttered angrily. Harry wasn't surprised by her reaction: he knew that she was in love with Lupin, and was only angry at him because she was concerned for his safety.

"I begged him to let me go with him, but he told me that he couldn't," Tonks went on, in a voice vibrant with indignation. "And you know why? Because he didn't want me to get hurt! Would you believe that? I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself!" Her voice broke. "He's nothing but an overprotective git!"

Harry wished he could raise her spirits, but deep down he did not feel particularly cheerful himself. Not only because he feared for Lupin's safety, too, but also because he remembered giving Ginny the exact same reason -keeping her out of harm's way- for breaking up with her. "Think how much in danger you'll be in if we keep this up," he had told her before they parted. Back then, he was convinced that this was the only possible thing to do, but now he wasn't so sure anymore. As he was listening to Tonks, he felt like if it is was Ginny who was there instead, telling somebody else about how he had dumped her...

The sound of a fist banging on the table brought his attention back. "Well, I've got news for you!" said Tonks, fiercely. "If he thinks he can get rid of me by playing his big hero act, he's got another thing coming! After all, I'm an Auror, aren't I? In the end, I always get my wizard!"

"Now there's a witch!" Harry exclaimed, relieved to see her in a more combative mood. "Everything will be fine, you'll see. Remus is the best Dark Arts Defense teacher ever to have set foot in Hogwarts, he'll just make wolfmeat out of Greyback! And, before you know it, he'll be back, just to sweep you off your feet!" he said, showing more confidence than he actually felt.

Tonks laughed again, but her laugh sounded hollow. "I'd be less worried if it were only for Greyback," she began.

Harry looked up, intrigued. "The new directives about secrecy aren't just for the show, Harry," she said in a strained voice. "A week ago, we failed to pin down a Death Eater, and we have good reasons to think this was due to a leak." She paused. "Luckily, only Mad-Eye, Arthur and I know about Remus' mission..."

"You mean there's a mole in the Ministry? A double agent?" asked Harry, worried.

Tonks nodded. "Of course, all Ministry employees have to submit to a mindscreen every week, but that's only a drop in the ocean: a good occlumens can easily go through it without getting caught," she said.

"Yeah, there's no shortage of occlumency experts on the other side, nowadays," said Harry, darkly.

"What do you mean?" asked Tonks, now getting curious as well.

After Harry had told her the vision he had the night before, she looked at him with admiration. "You actually saw all this? Merlin, no wonder Scrimgeour wants you so badly at the Ministry!" she said, excitedly. "Imagine how easy things would be for us with you calling the shots, instead of You-Know-Who!"

Harry shrugged. "It's not that easy. I can't read Vol- I mean You-Know-Who's thoughts just like that, it happens only once in a while. I have no control over it, yet."

Tonks made a dismissive gesture. "Eh, that's nothing. After a few good weeks of practice at Hogwarts, I bet you'll be-"

Harry cut her short. "Tonks, I'm not going back to Hogwarts," he said, now looking dead serious. They too have to know, he thought.

The Dursleys' reaction was nothing compared to Tonks'. "H- Harry, you can't be serious!" she finally managed to say, looking utterly devastated. "Think of what you'll miss! Anyway, you'll have to graduate from school if you want to become-"

Harry interrupted her again "Scrimgeour has already offered me to become an Auror last year. See? I don't need school for that. There's nothing I can't learn directly from you all, either at the Ministry -or here," he said coolly.

Tonks seemed panicked at this very thought. "But- but, we're not teachers, we don't know all that stuff! Well, except maybe Remus, but even he is not allowed to teach DDA anymore! And, no matter what Scrimgeour told you, I'm sure he didn't mean you dropping out of school! You have to go back. Hogwarts's your only home, after all!"

"It was," said Harry, firmly. "Now that Dumbledore's dead, there's nothing for me there. C'mon, be serious, why should I go on writing papers or playing Quidditch when there's a war raging on? I want a share of the action, and I know that only I can make you win!"

He leaned towards her over the table, a flame burning in his green eyes. "From now, on, I'll choose whoever I want to work with, Tonks. I'm fed up with people trying to control me like a puppet!" he snapped.

"All right, I get your point," whispered Tonks, visibly looking for a way out, "but I'll need to talk this over with Kingsley and Arthur first." She looked up at him. "And what about you? Where will you stay? Here?" she asked anxiously.

Harry shook his head. "I still have unfinished business with the Dursleys," he said in a dull tone. "I plan to stay in Privet Drive until I am of age. Then I'll probably come back."

They both stayed silent for a long moment, as Harry looked at the darkening window. "Well, I guess I should leave, now. Thanks for the lunch," he finally said.

"We better get going, then," said Tonks. She stood up, and picked up a light traveling cloak hanging on the wall.

"Are you coming with me?" asked Harry.

"No, I'll just walk you to our emergency portkey, right around the corner. It'll take you right back to where your uncle lives," Tonks explained. "You don't seriously intend to travel all by yourself in Muggle London without magic, do you? Too dangerous, especially now."

As they walked down the street, dark grey clouds were gathering again. The heat was oppressing, almost palpable.

Tonks looked at the laden sky. "This is definitely not your typical London weather," she mumbled.

Harry stared at her, puzzled. "D'you think black magic could be in the works?" he asked.

"Scrimgeour thinks so," she replied. "Here, there it is."

They have reached an old telephone booth covered with graffiti. A sign reading OUT OF ORDER was hanging at the door. "You just have to get in," said Tonks.

She turned towards Harry, and to his surprise, gave him a quick hug. "Do what you think is best for you, Harry," she told him. "Just remember that those who planned your future did it not because they want to control you, but because they love you!"

Harry watched her walking away, the sides of her cloak floating around her like wings.

Well, two things are certain, he thought. For one, Lupin is one lucky bloke.

He turned towards the phone booth, and looked at his own reflection in the glass pane.

"And you," he muttered to himself, "are nothing but an overprotective git!"

With a sigh, he opened the door, stepped in the booth, and vanished.

(To be continued)