World's Smallest Violin

Chapter 11: Speak

"Healer! Please! I need a Healer here! Someone!"

It was no use; her shouts were lost among all the others, all the crying, the bending metal, the rushing water. Tonks needed to send a signal, sparks, owl, paper plane, tin cans and a string, anything, but the boy seemed to have tried to inhale the entire river. He was already a terrible shade of blue, and Tonks was afraid that if she stopped pulling the water from his lungs for even a second then he might never breathe again.

They were already too late. Too late to stop the bridge collapsing, too late to catch the cars before they fell into the water, too late to pull an unlucky boat clear before it was crushed, too late even to catch the Death Eaters responsible before they made good their escape. But this boy still had a heartbeat, and Tonks refused to be too late to remind him how to breathe. He was maybe six or seven, but it was hard to tell. He looked so young.

"Healer!" Where were they? Every second she waited here was a second she was not freeing someone from the underwater rubble.

At last, very long last, the boy coughed, spraying river water down his front, then rolled over and vomited.

"Mum?" he asked weakly when he had finished.

"I'll find her," Tonks promised before thinking through the implications. Two Muggle firemen had appeared at the top of the steep and rocky embankment, but that was no good because the boy's right leg ended at the hem of his jeans. If she could find his foot then Healers could fix it back on, he would be able to run again. Muggles could make no such promise.

As she watched the firefighters making their infuriatingly slow way down to the riverbank, Tonks considered summoning a Healer to help. She raised her wand then realized that she was thinking about this all wrong. The boy would live. That was more than could be assured for anyone worth a Healer's attention at the present moment and much more than could be said for those still trapped underwater. The firefighters had nearly reached them, so Tonks eased her hand from the boy's weak grip, stood, and stepped into the water.

"Wait, you can't go in there!" one of the firefighters shouted.

Tonks ignored him, cast a bubble head charm, and submerged herself. The bridge collapse had stirred up the silty river bottom, making it nearly impossible to see. Tonks relied on her wand, which she had charmed to point her toward anything with a heartbeat. Fortunately, any fish had been scared out of the area or it never would have worked.

Over and over Tonks encountered people she had already found and provided with a bubble head charm. They were too disoriented or tangled up to find their own way to the surface but in no immediate danger, so Tonks ignored them, except one, a middle aged man who appeared to be having a panic attack. He was trapped by his seat belt and trying to pull off the bubble head charm, so Tonks cut him free and guided him to the bank.

Tonks criss crossed her way around the wreckage, but in her urgency her sense of time did not return until she reached the opposite bank. There she realized why she had not encountered any new victims: she was looking for heartbeats.

=====

"Mad-Eye, please tell me this is the worst you've ever seen. Please say it doesn't get any worse than this."

Tonks had freed those who were stuck underwater then moved on to locating the drowned and only surfaced after encountering a very surprised Muggle rescue diver. She had considered trying to find the boy she had rescued, but ultimately her courage failed. She had no idea if his mother had been saved.

Moody's dark eye radiated sympathy as he looked at her; his blue eye was occupied with something over her left shoulder. Tonks was so tired that she did not feel her usual compulsion to turn and see what else had his attention.

"Sorry, kid," Mad-Eye said at last. "Time you learned to never be surprised at what dark witches and wizards think up."

The collapse of the Brockdale Bridge was not the worst thing Mad-Eye had ever seen, nor was it the worst thing Tonks would ever see. In fact, it was not even the worst thing she would see that day, because it was only two disorienting hours later when Tonks and the other Aurors at the bridge site, robes dried but still smelling of river water, got word that giants were laying waste to a town in north Wales. That was the last moment Tonks would ever be able to remember the two events separately.

=====

Wasn't I just here?

"Bring him down!"

Tonks did not know the name of the man who gave the order, a brute from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures who seemed at least as mean as the giants. She wished that the people from the DRCMC were not there, or at least that they were not in charge of the situation. They seemed entirely too excited about capturing and punishing the giants, and not much interested at all in protecting the imperiled Muggle population, but the jurisdiction was clear, and since the Death Eaters had run off at the first sign of Aurors, the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was in charge.

Dutifully, Tonks conjured a strong rope, which bound the giant's legs. Around her, other witches and wizards did the same, ensnaring its arms and neck. A few heaves was enough to bring it down, its head crashing through the roof of a garage as it fell. Tonks cringed. Certainly that could have been avoided.

This giant was a fine example of his kind. Conservatively twenty feet tall, Tonks had seen him pound his way bare handed through five houses. She harbored a faint hope that the giants were following a leader and this might be him, but the others gave no sign that they were letting up. Tonks had heard that Hagrid recently took twelve stunning spells at once and continued fighting, and none of the spells they had used against the giants here seemed to have any effect either, but she could not help but feel a pang of sympathy as the giant was trussed up like Gulliver in Lilliput. At the beginning of the fight, Tonks had thought that Hagrid might be able to help convince the giants to stand down, now she was glad that he was somewhere else.

Tonks looked back the way the giant had come and saw an orderly row of destroyed houses eight deep. Where were their occupants? It was too much to hope that everyone had gone on holiday at once. It was dreary and rainy; many people must have been inside when this started. How many were now trapped, hurt or worse? Muggle firefighters, paramedics, and police officers were standing at the edge of the disaster area, stunned and confused, and had been for some time.

People were shouting, surrounding the next giant, preparing to pull it down, and Tonks had to help. She joined the group at the last second and grabbed hold of the rope around the giant's neck. Ten witches and wizards pulled as one and the giant fell, easier than expected, so quickly that there was barely time to get out of the way, and for the wizard in front of her, a man from the DRCMC, there was not enough time at all: he lost his footing and was trapped with his legs and hips caught under the giant's head. He howled in pain. What was worse, with its head thus padded, the giant was not knocked out or even stunned by the fall. Already it was trying to regain his feet.

Witches and wizards jumped on the giant's arms and legs, pinning it to the ground, but this only made things worse for the trapped wizard, because the only point of leverage remaining to the giant was its head. Inwardly, Tonks wished that the trapped wizard would pass out; his cries of pain were making it difficult to think of a way to rescue him. No one else seemed to notice the distressed wizard.

The others were rapidly securing the giant to the asphalt road and the trapped wizard along with it and still Tonks could think of no way of freeing the wizard without potentially releasing the giant. She was toying with the notion of performing some sort of transfiguration on the wizard when help arrived in the form of two Muggle firefighters. They managed to ignore the strangeness of the situation and efficiently placed two sacks on either side of the wizard's legs under the giant's head. The firefighters inflated the sacks, lifting the giant's head until there was enough space for Tonks to pull the wizard free. Tonks could have hugged both Muggles, but instead only thanked them, saw the wizard into the care of the Healers, and raced off to join the group at the next giant.

There were four giants left and they quickly fell into a rhythm: surround, rope, pull, trap, secure, next. Three to go. How many had they started with? The second to last put up a fight, nearly dislocating Tonks' shoulder when she tried to pull it down. Quite the opposite of washing out her robes, the rain was somehow making her smell like river water again. One left. Tonks was exhausted but pulled with everything she had, jumping up on the rope to pull with her entire body weight like she was ringing a church bell.

Then the last giant was down, tied up in ropes, given to the dubious care of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and Tonks surveyed the scene for the first time in an age. The entire place looked like a violent tornado had passed through. Why had she frozen, drawn blank after blank, when the solution to freeing the trapped wizard was so simple? The smell of river water on her hair was making her gag. With difficulty, Tonks forced those thoughts from her head and turned to the damaged houses. She lifted her wand, checked for heartbeats, and found many.

"Do you think they knew this would happen when they joined up?" Tonks said when she found herself digging through the rubble alongside Hestia Jones some time later. The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures had left along with the giants. A team of mediwizards and Healers from St. Mungo's were making themselves useful, but the representatives from the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee were only standing around acting bureaucratic, so it was the Aurors and a group of concerned citizens, actually the Order of the Phoenix, who were doing most of the digging.

"Who?" Jones asked.

"The giants," Tonks replied.

"Doubt it," Jones said.

"They're going to be executed."

"I wonder what Voldemort promised them."

"All the gold in Gringotts, all the magic in the world," Tonks suggested dully. "All the fire in hell."

"I'm not sure I can do this," Jones said suddenly, backing away. "I'll go help..." she trailed off, unable to name a task where she would not run such a risk of meeting a sight of gore and death.

"Sure thing," Tonks replied, letting her go without judgment, wishing she could join her. "The Muggle survivors we've already found could probably use some looking after."

"Yes, exactly," Jones said gladly and slipped away.

Tonks felt sure that she had seen every single thing there was to see that day, far too many things, only sheer will and muscle memory kept her digging on. Some members of the Order, like Hestia, were looking to her for guidance on how to act. She had to press on, resist the urge to run, try not to think of everything she had seen that day. She could have sorely used a hug, reassurance that something solid was left in a world where buildings could crumble so easily.

And what had they accomplished that day. No Death Eaters were caught, no victories were gained. Voldemort had proven that he was willing to make good on his threats and played the rest of them for fools.

"Hey down there!" Tonks exclaimed with relief when she shifted aside a final cross beam and found four terrified and dirty faces staring up at her. Tears slipped down her nose and on to them. "Don't worry, we'll have you out of there in no time!"

=====

Tonks barely slept that night. Every time she closed her eyes she found herself underwater or back fighting against giants, or some combination of the two. The one time she actually fell asleep she had a dream that had not haunted her since her Auror exams, the one where she got to a test only to realize that she did not know any spells at all. No need to consult the Dream Chronicle to find out what was on her mind. After that she spent the night at her table, watching her Auror communication stone in the flickering light, listening to the pipes rattle in the old building, a forgotten cup of tea near at hand. Every second she was sure that she would be summoned to another attack.

By two in the morning, Tonks was so tense that she turned on her wizarding wireless just for the sound of another human voice. Every single channel was discussing the two attacks; there was not a song to be found, not even a Quidditch score to lighten the mood. She switched it off quickly at returned to waiting.

With no immediate threat, when her thoughts managed to slip back before the attacks, they persisted in returning again and again to her conversation with Lupin in St. Mungo's, and the look on his face when she suggested that they spend time together outside the Order. She had finally settled on the meaning of his expression, it was a look of defeat.

For something to do, Tonks inspected her reflection in her bathroom mirror and wondered if she was vain. Her hair was a dull, ashy brown, exactly between her mother's dark brown and her father's dirty blonde, its natural color, unseen in years. Try as she might, she could not turn it back to pink, or purple, or any other color. It was as though she had forgotten how to use her metamorphmagus skills, but that was a fundamental part of her, not something she could simply forget or lose. Maybe she was just too tired so summon the requisite concentration.

Finally, the sun rose and she went to work.

From the look of the rest of the Aurors, most of them had passed the night in rather the same way as Tonks and they spent the day pitting their determination to be alert and prepared for the next attack against their fatigue in a fight they could only lose. Tonks barely reacted when the orders came down that she was to begin patrolling Hogsmeade, though she did manage a response when she learned that Dawlish had been given the same assignment.

That night Tonks had the watch of Privet Drive. Her nervous energy was finally wearing out, but all was quiet. She wondered how much Harry knew about the Muggle attacks. Certainly he must have heard about them. By the early hours of the morning, knowing that Harry was relying on her was the only thing keeping her alert.

On the second day, Tonks heard third hand that Fudge had stepped down as Minister of Magic and been replaced by Rufus Scrimgeour. She did not believe it until she left the office late that night and saw the mass of reporters and politicians in the entrance hall.

On the third day, Dumbledore returned as suddenly and quietly as he had disappeared and the world returned to normal.

=====

Tonks wished that she had chosen a seat a little further forward for this meeting of the Order of the Phoenix because Hagrid took the two seats next to her and said, "I don' blame yeh, o' course."

Rumors had made it as far as the Auror office that Hagrid had gone to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to petition on the captured giants' behalf. Now he cut a defeated figure as ever she had seen, which was evidence enough of the outcome of his efforts.

"I'm sorry, Hagrid," Tonks began, taking his big hand in both of hers, and then was saved by Dumbledore, who stepped to the front of the room to begin the meeting.

"If it's not to bold to say so, I suppose all of you are curious where I've been these past several days. I hope none of you take it as a comment on your honor or integrity when I say that I would prefer not to share this information until the proper time. Let me assure you, though, that it was all to aid our efforts to defeat Voldemort. Now then-"

"But what happened to your hand, Albus!" Professor McGonagall burst out.

Tonks craned forward and caught a glimpse of a blackened claw where Dumbledore's right hand had been before he shook his sleeve over it.

"It is a matter of no importance," Dumbledore said, then moved on to other topics: current Death Eater activity, preparations for the coming year at Hogwarts, the defenses being added to certain residences frequented by Order members, and the recent Muggle attacks, but when he tried to move on from that, Tonks found that she had something to say.

"Professor, if I might interject..."

"Certainly," Dumbledore replied.

Tonks stood, feeling a bit surprised at herself. She had never interrupted an Order meeting before, unless she counted the time she was attacked by Dementors at Privet Drive.

"I'm concerned about why the Muggle attacks stopped. Voldemort said he would attack Muggles unless we surrendered the Ministry. But we haven't given up control of the Ministry, so why did Voldemort stop? He's proven he can take us by surprise, so if he wants the Ministry then why isn't he still trying to get it?"

"Maybe we've got him running scared, ever think of that?"

"You wouldn't say that if you were there, Dung," Tonks replied. "He pulled one over on us, twice, then he stopped. It doesn't make sense."

"I suppose you have a hypothesis," Dumbledore invited.

"Just a thought, really," Tonks admitted. "We didn't give the Ministry over to Voldemort, but Fudge is no longer Minister. Could that be what be what Voldemort wanted?"

"Are you saying Scrimgeour could be working for Voldemort?" someone asked with a panicked edge in her voice.

"I very much doubt it," Shacklebolt replied, standing up. "I've known the man for years. But I don't think we can discount the possibility that someone else close to him could be under the Imperius curse."

At the front of the assembly, Dedalus Diggle got to his feet.

"Why are we discussing a crisis which has already passed when there are rumors that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has resumed using Inferi?

Apparently, Diggle was the only person in the room to have heard those rumors, because this caused a bit of an uproar.

"I speak out of concern for the respect of the recently dead," he continued.

"How do you know these rumors are true?" someone asked.

Tonks sighed, knowing her moment was lost. "The incantation is Incendio, Diggle, give it a try," she muttered, resuming her seat.

"I heard it directly from one of the Obliviators sent to Ashwick after a group of Inferi were spotted there," Diggle said.

"Wait, where?" Tonks demanded, on her feet again. Her parents had not mentioned any Inferi activity, but Ashwick was a small city, certainly, and not many magical folk lived there.

"Thank you for bringing these matters to our attention, Nymphadora and Dedalus," Dumbledore said, bringing to meeting back to order.

Shaken, Tonks took her seat and listened as the meeting continued. There was one more matter she wanted to take care of, and she had already put it off for far too long, but when the meeting adjourned and she tried to catch Lupin's eye she saw that he was already making a run for the door. Tonks sighed, she had hoped that she might be able to sample some of Mrs. Weasley's cooking this time, but instead of following everyone into the kitchen, she followed Lupin.

By the time Tonks got outside, there was no sign of Lupin, so she Disapparated and found a light on in his ramshackle house, her second guess after the Hog's Head. Her stomach was twisted in knots. Somehow she suspected that this condition was not related to all the Apparating. Without giving herself time to reconsider, she strode to the door. Lupin answered on the third knock.

"Tonks," he said, sounding startled. He hesitated a moment in the doorway then joined her outside.

"Wotcher," she replied. "You left pretty quickly."

"Sorry, am I needed for something?" Lupin asked, drawing his wand to Disapparate.

"No, no," Tonks said quickly. "I've just... been wanting to talk to you."

"What about?" Lupin crossed his arms, looking wary.

"I'd like to finish the conversation we started in St. Mungo's, about dinner."

"I thought we did finish that conversation," Lupin said.

"No, we were interrupted," Tonks countered. "As I recall, you were arguing against, and I was systematically dismantling all your points. Would you like to resume there?"

"Tonks, we've been working together a lot recently..."

"No," Tonks interrupted. "Do not try to write this off as some fluke of proximity."

"Regardless, this isn't a good idea," Lupin replied.

"Merlin, I'm not asking you to marry me, just join me for dinner."

"I can't!"

"Why? Because you're a werewolf?"

"Exactly."

"And how long ago did you decide that was relevant?"

"It's relevant, I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"How many times do I have to tell you that I don't care? Are you really going to let a madman who bit you almost thirty years ago decide whether or not you get to be happy?"

"I'll hurt you."

"You couldn't. You sound like you think you're doing me a favor. I promise, you're not."

The pair stared at each other for a moment.

"Just answer this," Tonks said at last. "Are you saying no because you're a werewolf, or because you see no potential for anything between us?"

Despite the darkness of Lupin's doorstep, Tonks saw his answer in his eyes, but Lupin did not speak. The silence stretched thin, then broke.

"I withdraw the invitation," Tonks said and turned to Disapparate.

Before long, the anger evaporated leaving only the pain.

=====

The next evening, Tonks Apparated to the specified point in the backyard of the Burrow, stepped through the garden, careful not to uproot any turnips, and knocked on the back door. Molly answered.

"Everything's fine," Tonks said in response to Molly's startled look. What had they come to when the typical response to an unexpected visit is not "Nice to see you," but "What's happened?"

"I was wondering if I could talk to you for a few minutes," Tonks continued.

"Of course, dear," Molly said, inviting her inside.

Tonks stepped into the kitchen and found Ron, Hermione, and Ginny in the adjoining living room. Ron and Hermione were frozen on opposite side of a chess board and Crookshanks was rubbing his head against Ginny's outstretched hand in an attempt to get her to resume scratching him. Ron recovered first.

"Hey Tonks," he said. "Any idea when Harry will be able to come over?"

"Honestly, Ron!" Hermione hissed.

"Give her some space you insensitive prat," Ginny echoed, much more to the point.

"Shouldn't be long now," Tonks managed in response to Ron's question, hoping this was not a lie. She must have looked even worse than she thought.

She tried to express her gratitude by flashing a pig's snout to Hermione and Ginny as they cleared out, but did not manage it. Her metamorphmagus abilities had been malfunctioning for days. Any other time that would have been first on her list of concerns, but now it was not even in the top five.

"What's on your mind?" Molly asked, placing two cups of tea on the table and sitting down behind one of them. Tonks took the seat opposite.

"I went to talk with Lupin yesterday," Tonks began, she did not need to tell Molly what the topic of discussion had been. "It didn't go well."

Molly took a sip of tea, waiting for her to continue, and Tonks felt an immediate wave of gratitude along with a slight pang of jealousy for Ginny. Her own mother would have already been overflowing with advice by this point.

"I really think we could be great together, him and I, and I'm pretty sure he thinks so too, but he won't even try."

Again, Molly waited, but Tonks had run out of words.

"I take it you intend to change his mind," she said after a moment.

"Is that stupid?" Tonks asked.

"Not at all," Molly replied. "But...are you certain you're not doing more harm than good."

"I'm not there yet."

"Then go get him."

And so she did, and every time she saw him it was a breath of fresh air and a punch in the gut. She wore her new Patronus like a badge of honor and hoped he would see it often, she tried to forget all about him and did not succeed, and after bad fights, long nights, a string of terrible hair days, and many, many cups of tea, she was right.