Reconstruction of a Death Eater

Chapter 4

The Beginning of Understanding

Tonks showed Draco out of the kitchen and up the stairs. He staggered a little near the top of the flight, and Tonks instinctively put out a hand to help him. He shrugged it off impatiently, squared his shoulders, assumed his pure-blood air and continued as though nothing had occurred. By the top of the second flight of stairs his resolve began to falter, and this time Tonks didn't let him shrug her off as she steered him to the second floor bathroom.

It was a dingy affair like most of the rooms in the old house, institutional green and brownish cream tiles stuck three quarters of the way up the walls and dull unpolished slates on the floor. The cast iron bathtub had a rust mark in the enamelled coating where the tap dripped constantly, but it was as deep and as wide as a baby swimming pool. Draco looked around disdainfully at the age-spotted mirror and the cracked slates on the floor before turning to the witch who still hovered at his elbow.

"This place is disgusting! Surely you don't expect me to use this filthy hole to wash in?"

Tonks stiffened and glared hotly. "Listen, you spoilt little brat, this is as good as it gets, so either shut up or push off! Just remember, Little Cousin, you could just as easily be staying in Azkaban at this point in time. This would be a palace in comparison to what that hole has to offer. Now get your traitorous uniform off and let me treat your wounds as per orders from the senior medical wizard. You know what orders are, don't you?"

"Oh yes, those things I give to other people," Draco murmured wickedly.

Tonks drew a sharp breath, her wand rising automatically until she saw the taunting glitter in her cousin's eye, the lurking misery behind it. Matching glare for glare she lowered her wand hand and then smiled sweetly, shifting appearance until she mirrored Draco's pale good looks perfectly, although in a feminine version. "Yes, that's right, those things," she told him in matching purebred tones.

Draco smirked, having successfully gotten a rise out of her, and murmured Finite Incantatem over his robes which promptly returned to his school uniform, a little worse for wear but totally innocuous. Tonks narrowed her eyes. So that was how they managed to stay anonymous or disappear into a crowd so quickly, due to a simple transformation spell. It was a piece of information well worth having for future reference.

"Humm, clever, yes," Draco smirked, seeing her expression turn thoughtful and calculating. "Catch us if you can when we are 'just part of the poor, innocent crowd'," he taunted, laying his robes aside fastidiously over the clothes rail provided.

Tonks really, really wanted to punch his pureblood patrician nose but managed to restrain herself when she recognised the sheer misery in the boy's eyes. He wanted to be punished, she realised; wanted to fight and rage and expiate his guilt in some physical way. Instead, she smiled and patted his arm companionably. "Come on, Draco, let's get some potion into you to ease those tremors. It's from Professor Snape's cauldron so we know it is all good, no poison slipped in by an unsuspected Death Eater sympathiser. I didn't know Severus was related to you. Is he related to me, too?"

Draco glared at the reminder that this metamorphmagus was actually his first cousin; her mother and his mother were blood sisters, although a few years apart in age. Of course, they were both related to Bellatrix Lestrange, so that wasn't saying much! "Severus is my Godfather but not a blood relative," he said haughtily, "which makes him no relation of yours, thank Merlin!

"Hey, I'm not so bad when you get to know me." Tonks grinned cheerfully, her usual good humour restored.

"And that is supposed to reassure me?" Draco shot back but without the sharp-edged malice he usually coated his words with.

Tonks laughed appreciatively and opened the cupboard, pulling down various bottles and packets. "Here, drink this; it's definitely from Professor Snape's cauldron so it will most probably poison you, most likely. He can be a bit acidic, you know."

Draco grimaced but drank obediently, a shiver coursing through him. He hated the way the Cruciatus Curse just kept on keeping on, the involuntary quivering of his muscles making him think of ants running about under his skin, ants with hobnailed boots on! Tonks nodded and passed him the next portion of potion with a wicked grin even as she changed her appearance with no apparent effort. Eyeing the girl who now looked like his identical twin, Draco drank the foul concoction, pulling as many horrendous faces as he could think of. Tonks mirrored his efforts and topped them at times until they both burst out laughing. "Alright, conceded, you are a very good metamorphmagus," Draco pronounced as he drank the water she offered to wash away the taste of his medicine.

"Let me just cast a quick Acclaro over you and see... oh yes, so much better... you should be feeling a little more chipper very soon, the potions tend to kick in very quickly," Tonks told him as her appearance wavered into her own standard look, and she held out a thin brown hand. "Give me your outer robes, and I'll get them cleaned up and mended for you. We can't send you back to school looking like a ragamuffin, what would Professor McGonagall say? There are clean towels in the cupboard, shampoo and soap on the shelf. Have a soak in the bath and get cleaned up yourself. Breakfast will be coming in from Hogwarts pretty soon, but you may have time to take a quick nap before then. The kitchen is out of action for a while, or... well, for a while anyway."

"Until he dies, did you mean?" Draco asked harshly. "He won't, you know? He can't!"

"Draco, he is so badly hurt, he might," Tonks warned gently, holding up a palm to quell his rising indignation.

Draco shook his head, making his filthy hair bounce wildly. "No. I... no, I have lost everyone I care about to the Death Eaters and that disgusting travesty of a man, but they aren't having Uncle Severus; that I cannot permit and will fight to the death to prevent."

Tonks frowned at the boy who was grimly determined. "Your parents are still alive, aren't they?"

"Hah! They are his creatures, and they may as well be dead for all the notice they take of the real world! Out!"

Tonks felt the magic in him driving her back, the door slamming as soon as she was clear. Head bowed thoughtfully, Tonks wandered away. She had never had anything to do with her aunt and uncle, her mother having severed all relations with them when they declared for the Dark Lord during the First Voldemort War. In truth, Tonks had never thought about what it might be like to have two Death Eaters for parents, either. Now she had to think about it as she had been challenged by the strange youth who was her cousin, and she didn't like the picture her thoughts and real knowledge of the evil faction was painting. If they acted as wildly and as unpredictably at home as they did in the field, having Death Eater parents would be horrendous! With that conclusion, Tonks shook her head sadly, tripped over the hall runner and stumbled head first into her bedroom.

~~*~~

Several hours later all three medical personnel stood back from the kitchen table, exhaustion dragging at their heels. They had been working for a solid six hours to keep Severus Snape alive and kicking, and so far they seemed to have succeeded in keeping him alive at least. Roger stared out of black circled eyes at the two women he had worked as one with and smiled slightly. They really didn't look any better than he, exhausted, wrung out and not even quietly triumphant, rather just resigned and tired.

"We do good work," he murmured, pushing a hank of limp brown hair out of his dark blue eyes. His long, bony face was haggard and drawn making him look older than time.

"We do that." Poppy smiled back, a spark of recognition tapping at the back of her mind but she was too tired to feel the slightest bit of curiosity, instead she sighed deeply. "Let's hope Severus is stubborn enough to stay alive long enough to heal enough to stay alive."

"Now say that fast five times," Molly muttered, then clenched her teeth to stop a howl of loss breaking out at the unthinking reference her tired mind made to her twin boys.

Poppy squeezed her shoulder in sympathy, knowing exactly what she was referring to. Roger missed the significance of the moment, lost in his own world of concerns. "Let's just hope that if he does heal, he manages to break out of his loop or he will never be whole. He may remain a living, breathing vegetable, forever trapped in the confines of his own skull."

All three sighed in unison then straightened tiredly, joints protesting the ill-usage. "Right, let's get him into the ballroom for recovery; there are a couple of free cots there. Who is on duty as nurse just now? We had better make sure they know he needs a close eye kept on him. Better yet, I'll put an alarm charm on him to monitor his progress and to alert us if there is any change we need to be aware of." Roger dug up a shred of remaining energy to cast Mobili Corpus over the unconscious figure now swathed in bandages.

The make-shift ward they had set up in the once elegant ballroom was indeed a grim and most unsanitary place, not at all suitable for patients recovering from serious injuries and maladies, but it was the best they could do. Cots lined the walls where once debutants and their duennas had watched couples whirl around the floor. The long, elegant windows were shrouded by the ragged remains of the once equally elegant velvet drapes, which now only barely served to keep the cold out. House-elves on loan from Hogwarts, led by the indomitable Dobby, did their best to keep the place clean, but the turn-over of patients was such that the mess never entirely went away.

One or two people looked up as the new patient was floated in but their gazes were incurious, and all went back to dosing until their treatment spells were complete and they could be released. Molly quickly cast a glamour over Snape's features and tucked the plain blue blanket around his thin shoulders, careful to make sure his left forearm was completely under the covers. It wouldn't do for anyone to see the grim black Dark Mark on that very pale skin. Not everyone in the Order was aware that Snape was a spy so they had to hide him as best they could. Roger clicked his tongue at his oversight and quickly conjured a bandage over the mark to hide it more effectively, making Molly smile her thanks.

"I'll take first watch," she offered and held out her arm for Roger to put the watch charm onto her wrist. He didn't argue, casting the invisible charm quickly and efficiently, as Poppy made her way to the floo and was whisked away to Hogwarts to try and catch an hour's sleep before the weekend warriors flocked in to be treated. Nodding to the woman on duty, Molly pulled up an armchair and sat down to try and get some rest while Roger wandered off to his bed once again with the same goal in mind.

~~*~~

The kitchen door opened with a bang. Harry and Hermione entered noisily pushing Ron between them. All three stopped in shock when they realised the area was empty, no Molly presiding over the cauldrons and teapot, just a clean empty space ready for use.

"That's odd," Ron muttered, glancing around hurriedly. "And just typical, mind you, that woman disappears whenever she is needed."

"Ronald Weasley! You are just so... so... so!" Hermione said, indignant on his mother's behalf, ignoring the wicked smile he and Harry shared at her expense.

"We should split up and look for her," Harry said practically. "You go look upstairs in the loos and stuff, Hermione. Ron, you check out the library and sitting room..."

"Why can't Hermione check out the library?" Ron complained almost by rote.

"Because it's a library and we do want to see her again today," Harry said practically and laughed when Hermione swatted his arm. "I'll check out the hospital, you know how it makes you feel sick, Ron."

"It doesn't make me feel ill," Hermione said practically.

"But if I found Mrs Weasley in a bathroom, then she would not be very happy about it, would she? Oh for Merlin's sake, people, stop arguing and get looking, we haven't got all day!" Harry huffed in exasperation.

Ron and Hermione high fived each other in congratulations for making Harry get on his high horse, and both ran off with Harry in hot pursuit. At the bottom of the stairs, Mrs Black began to scream indignantly about people running in the hallways, but they simply ignored her as they split up, each going to their separate destination.

Hermione bounced upstairs to the first floor bathroom and tapped on the door, but there was no one in when she stuck her head around the frame. Someone had left an incongruous pink and red bath toy shaped like a fish perched in the sink. Giggling, the girl bounced up the next flight of stairs and tapped at the second bathroom door. There was no answer so she stuck her head around the door and almost gasped aloud, stifling the noise with her hand.

A pale body floated in the water, looking for all the world like a drowned corpse. Livid swathes of black and blue bruising dottled its torso, and a deeply black bruise ran down one forearm. Before Hermione could do more than gape, blood flooding to her cheeks, the 'corpse' opened its eyes, and an all too familiar sneer curved pale lips.

"You know, Granger, if you have finished getting an eyeful, you might like to close the door, you are letting in a very cold draft," Malfoy said sarcastically but made no attempt to cover his modesty.

Hermione glared, embarrassment morphing to anger. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?" she snarled. "Why aren't you running around with your other Death Eater cronies?"

"Learning to sing the Hallelujah Chorus of course, Granger, what does it look like I am doing? And a Malfoy never runs." He sat up and flicked his hair out of his eyes.

"I thought you were a corpse," Hermione said honestly, eyes narrowing as she assessed her year mate, taking in the bruised and battered look of him. One particular set of black lines drew and held her attention, her curiosity sitting up and taking notice.

"Sorry to disappoint, but not yet. What are you doing here?"

"I am looking for Molly Weasley. I, oh dear, this is embarrassing, er, may I have a look at your Dark Mark. I've never actually seen one up close."

Malfoy eyed her with a jaundiced air, then snorted and shook his head. That was the last thing he thought she would be interested in. "You are something else, Granger. I am naked here, in my complete natural glory, and you want to see my tattoos?"

Hermione glared and gave him a slow and insolent once up and down look, hiding what it cost her to remain unaffected. "Well, it does prove you are a natural blond after all, but apart from that, I think the Dark Mark is probably the most interesting thing about you, unless you want help with those bruises? The ones on your back look particularly nasty."

Draco shook his head and gave her an amused smile, disarmed by her sheer single-mindedness. "Yes, I could use a hand with the bruising. Whatever it was Tonks gave me, it has drained me almost out of strength, never mind magic."

Concerned, Hermione pulled out her wand and cast relieving charms over the long, thin bruises that wrapped around his torso, noticing there were quite a few of the marks as well as a few old ones. Draco wasn't very tall but he was well muscled, thanks to playing Quidditch for Slytherin. Tentatively placing a hand on his shoulder, she turned him a little and tended to the next lot of stripes that curved over his ribs and spine.

Draco didn't move, allowing her to push him from side to side until she was satisfied she had fixed them all. Finally, she gave a small noise of satisfaction and stood back a little, tipping her head to one side. "That's done, how does your back feel now?" she asked without malice.

"Very good, thank you," he murmured laying back in the tub and holding out his left forearm impatiently. "Here, satisfy your curiosity."

She was pleased to note he had acquired some bubbles to preserve modesty then turned her attention to the Dark Mark, studying it intently, noting the way it almost seemed to study her back. "It's looking at me," she breathed softly.

"Yes, it often seems that way to me, too," Draco muttered with a shiver, turning his head to look at her. They were so close, his lips grazed her cheek, touching at the side of her mouth, and they both jumped guiltily. "You had better go, Granger. If Potty or the Weasel find you here, they'll skin me alive which would be a shame considering all your handiwork."

Hermione nodded quickly and stood up then stopped to stare down at him for a long considering second. "Take care, Malfoy, whip marks like that can't always be healed cleanly, you know? And you are rather pretty looking."

He simply nodded with closed eyes as she left.