The Long Fight of Nymphadora Tonks

Chapter 13: The Prophet Behind The Times

Nymphadora Tonks sat on a corner of a desk at Auror Headquarters, her eyes sweeping the open page of the Daily Prophet in front of her. Dung had got himself arrested for pretending to be an Inferius. A stupid, stupid thing to do at the present time. And so like Dung.

A nine-year-old had nearly killed his grandparents, thanks to being placed under the Imperius curse. Old news. She sighed and looked up as she heard a slight commotion nearby.

"What is it?" she asked, rising from her seat and approaching the fair-haired young auror who had just entered HQ, and who appeared to be the source of the murmurings. "What's happened?"

"I've just come from St. Mungo's," the other young woman replied tearfully. "Oh, it's terrible."

"What is?" asked Tonks, unfairly becoming a little impatient. She steadied herself, then repeated her question. "What's happened, Viv?"

"It's ... the Montgomerys' little boy," the other sobbed. "Martha was cornered by some Death Eaters last week, they wanted her to help them and she wouldn't, and now ... they went for her son. Last night."

"Last ... night?" Tonks repeated breathlessly. Her heart pounded. She had been up last night. All night. The same as every month. Always when she knew there was a full moon. She had lain awake wondering. Worrying.

"The poor little boy was attacked by a werewolf."

There it was, out in the open. Tonks could find nothing more to say, no more ways to prompt Viv for more information. She wasn't sure she wanted to hear it.

"He's dead," the fair-haired auror went on anyway. "Died in hospital. And he was only five ..."

"Did they get the monster?" someone asked.

Tonks flinched at the word as if someone had struck her a physical blow, and prayed no one had seen. Viv shook her head.

"Who bit him, do they know?"

"They're not sure yet."

Oh, please, don't let it be ... no, it can't, please, no ... Tonks began to move away from the group, towards the door. She walked slowly to create the impression of knowing what she was doing, when in fact she was close to fainting. If only Kingsley were here now, he'd know what to do. Or Moody. Anyone. Oh help ...

Tonks staggered out into the corridor and leaned her back against the wall, her breath coming in irregular gasps. She tried to tell herself that she was over-dramatising, that her fears were unfounded. But a boy had been killed last night, by a werewolf. And she had no idea where Remus was, where he had been - except that she did have a pretty good idea that he had been with others of his kind, out of control, not knowing who he was or what he did. God, don't let him have had anything to do with this, she begged silently. That would mean the end. The boy is dead. Oh, hell!

She pushed herself abruptly off the wall. This would not do. She must think. And she must talk to someone. Kingsley was unavailable. Moody was unavailable. She couldn't find Remus himself, she had no idea where he was, hadn't heard from him for a month. Her instinct was to run to Molly, but she reasoned that that would be pointless, Molly would know even less than she did. Dumbledore. She must talk to Dumbledore.

Tonks apparated in Hogsmeade, just by the Hog's Head, and hurried up to the school as fast as she could go. Thankfully, it was Hagrid who answered her Patronus and let her in through the big gates. He asked what she was about, of course, but she did not tell him. She ran, ran as fast as she could, to the front door, up the stairs, up again, and again, until she reached the statue of the stone gargoyle and paused to catch her breath.

"The password," she murmured to herself. "I don't even know the password, damn it."

"Nymphadora?"

Tonks jumped when she heard her name, and spun round. Minerva McGonagall was coming towards her briskly.

"Oh, hello," Tonks said mechanically.

The Transfiguration studied her with mild concern.

"Nymphadora, what are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be keeping your eyes and ears open at the Ministry today."

"I was. That's why I'm here."

"Has something important happened?" the older woman asked alertly.

"I ... don't know. It might have. I heard something ... I wanted to talk to Dumbledore about it."

"The headmaster is away."

"Oh." Tonks's face fell. She felt her lips tremble slightly, and clenched her jaws with determination. "Oh. Do you know when he'll be back?"

"I'm afraid not," Minerva McGonagall said, softening a little. "Nymphadora, are you quite well? You look a little faint."

"I'm ... fine," Tonks lied. "Thank you, Professor. I just ... You don't know if Dumbledore's had any letters lately, do you? From ... anyone?"

The professor looked cautiously around her, then said quietly. "If you're thinking of ... who I suspect you're thinking of - not to my knowledge."

Tonks swallowed hard. "Okay then. Thank you, Professor."

She began to walk away.

"Would you like me to give Dumbledore a message from you?" Minerva McGonagall called after her.

"No, thanks. It's ... all right. I can wait."

Tonks wandered aimlessly along the corridor, her footsteps taking her on an old familiar route she had often walked as a girl in her Hogwarts days. Just by the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy teaching trolls to do ballet, she stopped, surprised, hearing a familiar voice cry "OUCH!" An Invisibility Cloak slid to the floor, and there, right in front of her, was Harry, hopping on one foot.

"Harry?"

Harry, spinning round on one leg, toppled over and stared up at her, looking startled.

"What're you doing here?"

What are you, for that matter, Tonks thought briefly, then answered truthfully,

"I came to see Dumbledore."

"His office isn't here," said Harry. "It's round the other side of the castle, behind the gargoyle -"

"I know," she acknowledged. "He's not there. Apparently he's gone away again."

"Has he? Hey - you don't know where he goes, I suppose?"

"No."

How I wish I did, then I could find him and ask him whether he's heard if Remus is all right.

"What did you want to see him about?"

"Nothing in particular," Tonks lied, picking at the sleeve of her robe without noticing and remembering a time when she had fumbled similarly with Remus's shirt on a day very like this, just after his transformation. "I just thought he might know what's going on ... I've heard rumours ... people getting hurt ..."

"Yeah, I know, it's all been in the papers," said Harry. "That little kid trying to kill his -"

What? Thought Tonks. Then, Oh, that. How insignificant it seemed, how trifling compared to what was on her mind. How long ago ...

"The Prophet's often behind the times," said Tonks, barely hearing him. "You haven't had any letters from anyone in the Order recently?" she added hopefully.

"No one from the Order writes to me any more."

No, nor me. Oh, I wish he'd write to me. Just once, just to tell me he's safe, and that last night ... that he wasn't there. God, I hope he wasn't there, it would kill him if ...

"Not since Sirius -" Harry went on, unaware of her thoughts, but breaking off when he saw her eyes filling with tears.

"I'm sorry," the boy stumbled on. "I mean ... I miss him, as well ..."

"What?"

What is he talking about? How does he know ... Does he even know? Are we even talking about the same thing?

Out loud, Tonks said, "Well, I'll see you around, Harry."

Quick, get away from here, before you embarrass yourself by blubbing again.

She turned from him abruptly and strode away.