World's Smallest Violin

Chapter 1: Remember

Forty years a wizard, and Ted Tonks still insisted that his front door be locked with a deadbolt and key, which frequently left his flummoxed daughter on the point of entering her parents' house but fumbling through her pockets and wondering when she would crack and just open the door with magic. That night was no different. It was one of many things that Tonks loved and admired about her father, but it had to stop now, tonight.

It should have stopped two weeks ago, when her parents came to visit her in St. Mungo's to satisfy themselves that she would survive the curse she had taken while fighting in the Department of Mysteries. Of course, they did not know where the fight had taken place, thought that her injuries were earned in the line of duty as an Auror, only knew as much as the Daily Prophet had said, would not have known the Order of the Phoenix from the Central Cardiff Ninepins Bowling League. At the time, Tonks did not have the lungs to explain.

Really, though, the lock should have been replaced a year ago, the very night of the third task of the Triwizard Tournament, but she had not insisted, even as the signs slowly crept up around her, even as Kinsley Shacklebolt quietly recruited her into the Order of the Phoenix, even as she learned the real stakes. At the time, one last bastion of normalcy had not seemed like too much to ask. Now Tonks wondered how she would lave learned to live with herself if Death Eaters had targeted her unprotected family.

Finally, on her third search through her pockets, Tonks located the key, which she stuffed immediately into the lock. She stepped inside and was immediately greeted by an enticing aroma from the kitchen, which she took a moment to appreciate as she made sure that the door was closed tight. Tonks decided that a cooking competition between Andromeda Tonks and Molly Weasley was something she would dearly like to see.

"Mum? Dad?" Tonks called. "I hope you made enough dinner to share, because-"

Words failed when she reached the sitting room and beheld the strange scene waiting there. To her left, Tonk's mother was frozen stiff but, clearly, she had recently been in very rapid motion, no doubt hoping to intersect Tonks while she was still in the hall by the door. To the right, her father was attempting to repress a sputtering cough and clean the tea from the front of his robes, the probable result of attempting to take a sip and surge out of his favorite armchair simultaneously. Tonks had seen this once before. This time it was not nearly as funny.

Draco Malfoy was seated directly across from her, leaning on one arm of the sofa. Tonks immediately thought of several things she would have dearly liked to say about that, then she recognized the book he was holding, The Catcher in the Rye, from her own shelf, and thought of a few more.

Tonks twitched. Her wand was in a holster at her hip, but she stayed the impulse and surveyed the room with an Auror's eye. Her father had regained control of his breathing as was saying something in soothing tones, which Tonks allowed to pass by without trying to listen or comprehend. Her mother took a step forward, but Tonks held up a hand in warning.

Tonks only had eyes for Malfoy. His hands were partly hidden by the book, and he could have easily concealed his wand behind it as well. Her parents could be Imperiused, but how could a single sixteen year old wizard overpower two adults? General security notwithstanding, her parents were no amateurs when it came to self defense. Malfoy must have had help. Considering this, Tonks took a slow step to the side, placing her back against the wall instead of the open hallway and finally took out her wand.

Tonks knew fourteen ways of containing a situation where she suspected that the Imperius Curse was in play. Twelve required at least two Aurors, one required all of the suspects to be in the same room, a fact she had not established. The last option was also the most risky.

Coming to her decision, Tonks twitch her wand, nonverbally summoning all the wands in the house. Her parents' wands flew obediently to her. Tonks caught the first left handed but narrowly missed the second and ended up bobbling and eventually dropping them both, and nearly her own wand as well. Distracted, Tonks glanced at the mess at her feet and sighed, relieved that at least both wands appeared to be intact. That was when something large materialized from the direction of the hallway and struck her smartly on the side of the head. It clattered to the ground and Tonks went down with it, dropping to her knees.

Struggling to keep her balance, Tonks forced her eyes open. When the stars cleared away, she found her parents kneeling nearby, peering at her with concern. Malfoy had not moved much, but there was an amused glint in his eye that Tonks did not like.

The object that struck her had landed nearby: it was the bulky metal box where her parents had stored her wand when she was home from Hogwarts. No doubt it now contained Malfoy's wand. Fortunately, it had struck her side on, otherwise she certainly would have been knocked out. As it was, her ear and cheek were stinging sharply, and it was difficult to keep her eyes from watering.

"Nymphadora, you remember your cousin Draco," Andromeda said as she sorted out the fallen wands and took up the metal box.

"I probably should have flooed ahead and made sure it was alright to come over," Tonks muttered. Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer. "Can I talk to you in private, please?"

"Sure," her father said, helping her to her feet and leading her toward the kitchen.

"You know that book was written by a Muggle," Tonks informed Malfoy as they passed by him, the easiest outlet for her frustration with the current situation.

When they reached the kitchen, Tonks immediately wished they had picked a different room for their conversation. Her head swam and pounded with her every movement and the concentrated smells of dinner, previously so enticing, now made her feel rather sick. The only concession she made to this was to lean against the counter.

"No funny business, now," Andromeda said as she approached and shined her lit wand into Tonks' eyes to check for signs of a concussion, knowing before Tonks did that she would try and use her Metamorphmagus abilities to conceal any injury. "What were you thinking, anyway?"

"That he could have had you Imperiused," Tonks responded.

"A sixteen year old boy?" Ted exclaimed. "I'm ashamed you think so little of us."

"Really, Nymphadora," her mother agreed, "has you're time as an Auror made you so paranoid?"

Better paranoid than dead, Tonks thought, though it was not doing her any favors at the moment.

"What's he doing here?" Tonks asked at last.

"His father's been arrested," Andromeda replied.

"I know that," Tonks muttered, trying not to roll her eyes.

"Well, Narcissa has a lot of matters she needs to take care of," Andromeda continued, "so she asked me to take him in for awhile."

"Wait, you're in contact with Narcissa?" Tonks demanded, feeling as though she'd been punched in the stomach.

"That's Aunt Narcissa to you," Andromeda corrected irritably.

"Answer the question," Tonks said, trying to remember the last time she had been admonished about calling Narcissa Malfoy by her familial title.

"Not for years," Andromeda replied, "up until last week when she wrote me about Draco."

Tonks sighed. It was not as bad as she thought, but not by much. There were already those among the Aurors who looked on her with suspicion because of her close blood relation to so many powerful Death Eaters. If this got out she would lose much of the trust she had worked so hard to gain.

"Mum, I'm an Auror. I helped arrest his father."

That was news, and it took her mother a moment to recover the line of her argument.

"Draco is not a Death Eater."

Tonks only just managed to bite back her response to that, but she could see that her mother knew that she wanted to say "Not yet." Her time as an Auror had changed her. She used to trust people to do the right thing, giving them the benefit of the doubt, now she required them to earn it.

"I can't turn him out," Andromeda said with an icy stare, which Tonks had occasionally seen in her childhood after the most extreme misbehavior. "He's my nephew."

"I'm your daughter."

"He's sixteen, you're twenty three," Andromeda maintained. "You can take care of yourself. You don't even live here anymore."

"No, but I like coming over sometimes," Tonks said in a small voice.

Andromeda's expression softened. "Nymphadora, either I was going to take him in, or Bellatrix would," she said.

Tonks flinched before she could stop herself, and then words were flooding out of her.

"Mum, Bellatrix is crazy. She's lost it. She's out of her gourd, at least three Knuts short of a Galleon. I saw her." She saw me, recognized me. "I fought her." And all those years of Auror training came to nothing. Out dueled in seconds. "She tried to kill me, and she was enjoying it." I thought she had killed me. "She's the one who killed Sirius."

Andromeda's expression was fixed and though her eyes stared in Tonks' direction it was obvious that she did not see anything. Tonks immediately felt sorry that she had been the one to bring her such harsh words about her sister.

"That must've been terrifying," Ted said, placing a hand on Tonks' shoulder. Ted Tonks was a man of few words, but when he did speak he always had the right ones.

"Yeah," Tonks replied in a feeble voice. Now that she had stopped worrying about her own career for long enough to consider the entire situation, she had to admit that this was quite possibly the best possible arrangement for Draco. "I shouldn't have given you a hard time about letting him stay here," she said at last.

Andromeda responded to this by coming back from her trace with a conciliatory shrug.

"Listen, the real reason I came was to talk to you about your defenses here," Tonks said. "You really ought to put up a few shields so that just anyone can't walk inside."

"Oh, we have all that well in hand," Ted replied placatingly.

"I'm serious, Dad, a Muggle lock and key won't cut it," Tonks said.

"We've got plenty of shields and charms up, and Ted and Albus worked out a clever little system with the keys," Andromeda explained.

"I didn't notice anything on the way in." Tonks had been expecting an argument on the subject and was having trouble catching on to the notion that the job was already done.

"Yes, well, you're allowed in here, aren't you," Andromeda pointed out.

"Wait, you and Dumbledore charmed the keys?" Tonks asked, turning to her father. That had taken long enough to clunk into place, maybe she did have a concussion after all. "Why did mine work?"

"Dumbledore himself must have gotten to it at some point," Andromeda said. "I daresay you see him from time to time in your Order of the Phoenix business."

"You know about that?" Tonks gasped. The hits just kept coming.

After being admonished several times by several people upon first joining the Order to keep her parents in the dark, she had eventually supposed that the instructions must have come from the top and come to the conclusion that, for a man willing to take Severus Snape at his word, Dumbledore could be a right mistrustful old dingbat when he put his mind to it. Now she just felt foolish.

"Dumbledore told us," Andromeda said.

Of course he did. "Sorry I didn't tell you myself," Tonks said.

"Quite alright," Ted replied. "But, young lady, next time you join a secret society of dark wizard fighters, we want to be the first to know."

"You've got it," Tonks replied, returning his smile.

"Will you join us for dinner?" Andromeda asked, checking on the oven and the stove. "It'll be ready soon."

"Better not," Tonks replied reluctantly, nodding in the direction of the sitting room, where they'd left Malfoy. If even half of Harry's account of the past year at Hogwarts was true, and Harry was not one to lie about such matters, then Tonks was certain that she did not have the stomach to share a table with a person who had played an unapologetic part in those crimes.

"Do you think you can help him?" Tonks asked.

"I know we're going to try," Andromeda replied.

It was all anyone could ask for.

"I'll see you guys later," Tonks said, and took her leave.

On the way out, she took a detour to her old bedroom and removed several books that she did not want Malfoy pawing through. However resigned she might be to her cousin's presence in her parent's house, Tonks was still irritated by the very sight of him, so on the way to the door she did not resist the urge to poke her head into the sitting room, where Malfoy was still on the sofa, reading her copy of The Catcher in the Rye.

"Holden ends up in an insane asylum," Tonks called in to him, and then left. She did not need to look back to know that he had heard and understood, she could feel his glare on her back.

=======

Outside, Tonks immediately decided that she did not want to return to her perpetually dirty flat with its empty pantry and the flickering light that she never had the time to ask her landlord to fix. With no Auror or Order duties until the following morning, she chose instead to join the other Order members who had congregated on their night off, then nearly splinched herself by remembering at the last possible second that Grimmauld Place was no longer a secure location to meet.

Tonks appeared instead in the alley beside the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade, fortunately with all body parts accounted for, and let herself in by the side entrance.

The pub was deserted except for the barkeep at his usual station, and Lupin, Moody, Mundungus, and Kingsley, hunched around one end of a long table against the far wall. Tonks ordered a firewhiskey and brought it and her stack of books over to the other end of the same table. Those already there did not invite her to join them: Order members were only too familiar with the strange mood that caused someone to desire proximity but shun company.

Tonks stared for a moment at her firewhiskey, contemplating the possible side effects of combining a minor head injury with hard liquor, then picked it up and drained it in one. The bartender caught her eye and held up the bottle, asking if she would like another, but Tonks shook her head.

All too soon, the conversation at the opposite end of the table broke up and the other Order members gathered their coats to leave. Tonks sighed. She did not want to leave, but she also did not want to be the only person there in addition to the barkeep. Abruptly, she wondered if it got awfully lonely tending bar in a rundown and frequently deserted old pub such as this. Her thoughts were interrupted when someone nearby cleared his throat.

"This seat taken?"

A joke. Of course it was not taken.

"Sit down, Lupin."

"I thought you said you were staying with your parents tonight," Lupin said, taking the seat across from her. He had a full bottle of butterbeer in front of him, which he rolled between his hands without drinking.

"Plans change," Tonks replied. She chose not to elaborate and Lupin did not ask her to, for which she was grateful. Tonks thought she might have learned a valuable lesson about keeping secrets from her conversation with her parents, but here she was, keeping another one.

"Doing some reading?" Lupin asked instead, scanning the spines of the books stacked next to her.

"Oh...yeah," Tonks replied, "I picked those up from my parents' house, I hadn't read them in awhile, you know how it is." She pushed the stack across the table, inviting him to take a closer look. Lupin was an old intellectual type, a stack of books should have kept him occupied for awhile, and would have, if Tonks had not made a critical oversight.

"The Amazing Spider Man?" Lupin exclaimed, reaching the small collection of comic books at the bottom of the pile and flipping through the one on top. "Nymphadora Tonks, I'm surprised at you."

"With great power comes great responsibility," Tonks reminded him, pulling the thin volume out of his hands.

"Of course," Lupin replied. "I've always preferred X-Men myself. I guess it soothed the mind of a young lycanthrope to think that one day I might be able to learn to control the wolf, use my powers for good, as it were."

"Here you go, then," Tonks said, pulling an X-Men comic from the stack and handing it over, surprised and pleased to find a kindred spirit in such an unexpected place.

They read in silence for a few minutes, but before long they fell back into conversation, discussing their favorite characters and issues, and eventually their talk turned back to the Battle in the Department of Mysteries, as all discussions seemed to do. It took even less time than Tonks would have expected. Perhaps the comic books, with their sanitized violence without lasting consequences and bright onomatopoeia had put them in mind of the real horrors they had seen. However, their most recent battle made an insufficient buffer between themselves and the topic they had been trying to avoid but been inching steadily toward in spite of themselves: Sirius. Lupin was the first to crack.

"How did your Mother take the news?" he asked at last. "She and Sirius were close as kids, you know."

"She doesn't really let on about that sort of thing," Tonks replied. In truth she had gone into one of her trances when Tonks told her during their visit at St. Mungo's. That was sign enough to those who knew her. Tonks had meant to follow up on very question on her most recent visit home, but other issues had distracted her. The Black family had always been a sensitive issue in the Tonks household and Sirius, long thought to be the ultimate betrayer of childhood solidarity, had been persona non grata.

"How about you?" Tonks asked.

"Oh," Lupin hesitated. Could he really not have been expecting that question? The light in the Hog's Head was dim, but enough to see the drawn and haunted look that crossed his face. "You know how it is," he answered at last.

Tonks considered this for a moment and decided that she did not. She had only just been getting to know Sirius, but she had observed him and Lupin over the past year. Closer than brothers, they were. The magnitude of loss that Lupin had experienced in his life was nearly inconceivable. The shear weight of it all would surely have crumbled a lesser man, yet here he was, washing it all down with a bottle of butterbeer, preparing to risk it all again tomorrow, and never a complaint.

Words were insufficient here. Tonks took Lupin's hand across the table. He squeezed back, hard.