Reconstruction of a Death Eater

New Sides to Old Friends

Ron entered the sitting room, originally the formal parlour when the Blacks had owned the house. There was a fascinating cabinet over on the far wall full of artefacts he was dying to study closely, but which his mother had always chased him away from when she had caught him sneaking around before. Seeing no one was present, Ron grinned wickedly and hurried over to the cabinet to cast a revealing spell before trying the handles. He jumped guiltily when the ornate brass knob turned in his hand and the curved glass doors swung open with a very faint squeak, a rush of musty air making him stifle a cough.

Whipping his head around, Ron made sure there was no one behind him before hunkering down and studying the very bottom shelf first, just in case there was something he had missed. There was one artefact on the second shelf he really wanted to have a look at, a small curved horn made of a dead white substance Ron rather thought would be bone. Bands of gold circled the trumpet shape, each engraved with runes. They were very decorative and probably had a secondary function, but what it was, Ron didn't know. Still, he was wary enough to treat the artefact with caution, drawing his wand and casting a revealing spell over the thing. It didn't show any Dark Aura so Ron prodded it with a cautious finger. When nothing happened, he picked the small item up and turned it curiously in his hand, examining it carefully.

He was so engrossed in his examination that the bang of the door slamming open to the stops made him fall onto his backside in fright. An unkempt figure stormed into the room cursing and swearing with an impressive vocabulary, fists pounding on jean-clad thighs as he kicked out at the furniture. Long, honey-blond hair curled wildly and spilled out of the leather thong that held most of it back, a curling hank obscuring one eye as it flopped down his face. A leather jacket, with a painted wolf's head on the back, all scuffed and one pocket torn, was slung over a tightly stretched black t-shirt half tucked into the ratty and holed jeans. Heavy knee-high leather cycle boots thudded heavily on the threadbare Persian rug as the man paced agitatedly.

Ron didn't dare move as the feral figure spun on his toes with wand extended, breathing heavily as Tonks appeared in the doorway, a wry smile curving her lips.

"You look like shit," she said evenly, obviously recognising the wildman.

"Ah, fuck you, Tonks!" The snarl was bitter and harsh but only made the metamorphmagus laugh. "Did you hear what they have gone and done this time? Goddamnit! They are taking away our children!"

"What? What do you mean?" Tonks asked in surprise. "I heard the branding law had been stopped, and there would be no registration tattoos but...."

"Hah! The concession for that was that we couldn't keep our current children or raise any children or adopt any children, not even infected children. Anyone raising a child by themselves is to have the child made a Ward of the Wizengamot, and you know what that means, don't you? It means orphanages for the most part, and who runs the orphanages? The fucking Ministry, that's who!" He spun on his toes and brought both fists down on the occasional table which all but flew apart in splinters under the impact.

Ron was impressed, to say the least, but he did not dare move. Tonks came forward and tried to wrap her arms around the man, but he shrugged her off impatiently. "They were after Harry, you know," he said matter-of-factly, moving to hold onto the mantle shelf and lean down to stare into the empty fireplace. "I was with Minerva when the word came through, and that little weasel Percy said to tell me they were going to pull Harry's adoption papers and then take Harry to St Joseph's on the Main. But we fucked them up there! I told Sirius not to put my name on the papers, I made him take it off again when he tried a sneaky one, and now I am so bloody glad, even if it nearly broke my heart at the time. They can't touch Harry through me. Gods, I would never forgive myself if they could use me like that. As it is I can no longer own property, so I am turning this lot over to the Order which is a bequest in my Will. Let the Ministry try and fight that one! And I can't have a bank account, so the vault at Gringotts has to go, too."

"Shit! And I thought we had gained a victory." Tonks sighed, shaking her head at the unfairness of it all. "It is pyretic, isn't it?

"Totally; I've been up and down the country this last two days, trying to keep the Wild Wolves from taking out the Wizengamot, which they would try if someone didn't try to talk them out of it. What a victory for You-Know-Who if that happened and what a disaster for the werewolves, just another confirmation of their unsuitability to be counted in Wizarding society." The bitter laugh was almost a sob as he shook his head.

"When did you last sleep, Remus?" Tonks asked gently, and Ron couldn't help gaping when he finally realised who the wild and woolly character was. This was not the quiet spoken and self-effacing DADA teacher he remembered but someone entirely different. Someone who was wild and totally out of control, dangerous and unpredictable, and very, very cool!

'Like Bill used to be, before the raid on Gringotts', the thought crept in.

"Aaugh, who's had time to sleep! Moon's coming in little more than a week, and we're all at the end of our patience. I have fifty or sixty stirred-up wild wolves with enough adrenalin to power a major revolution, and I need a safe target to vent it on or it will be a disaster. What has Snape come up with for us?"

Tonks bit her lip as she moved toward the far wall and opened a drinks cabinet, glass clinking as she worked. "Severus Snape is out of the running, probably permanently. He is lying in pieces all over the kitchen table with his guts hanging out to dry, or he was half an hour ago. If he survives the night, he may never regain consciousness; and if he does regain consciousness, he may be a complete mental vegetable." Tonks turned and offered the werewolf the glass she had poured.

Remus had turned to stare at her looking gobsmacked. He made no effort to take the glass, stunned by the bad news. Snape was such a valuable asset to the light, more than anyone else at the moment, and his loss would be catastrophic! "Well, that's us screwed then, isn't it? Much as Severus can be a total prick, he is a bloody efficient spy. We are fucked! What about back-up lines of information? Is there anyone else who can fill his place or at least has a chance of passing any information at all?"

"No, not off-hand. The information our other informant passes is good but not particularly complete, as he is not what you call inner circle like Snape, more like an interested eavesdropper. As you so inelegantly put it, we are definitely screwed at the moment, but it doesn't do to fall into despair, we have been in just as poor a position before, and we have managed to come about, you know that. Everyone said that the death of Professor Dumbledore would be the end of the Order, but we survived and we came about and we are stronger than ever," she added persuasively and held out the glass again. "Here, drink it, it will make you feel better, I promise. I found it especially for you."

He sniffed hard and grabbed the glass, upending it in one gulp and making Tonks laugh. "Now that is interesting! What is it?"

"It's a chocolate crème liqueur; cognac and chocolate in a bottle." Tonks grinned and obligingly poured more into the impatiently thrust-out glass. "It's potent, mind, more so than good firewhiskey."

"Better than sex," he growled, taking the bottle from her hand and refilling his glass for the third time.

"Sure about that?" Tonks asked leaning forward to press against the man, who barked a laugh and pushed her away with a rather gentler hand than he could have.

"Wrong shape, little girl," he commented with a sneer that wobbled into laughter lines.

Tonks morphed into a burley masculine form, broader and taller than the slightly built werewolf. "How does this take you?"

"Roughly from behind sounds good, if we didn't have an audience," Remus muttered and grinned ruefully over her shoulder, his golden eyes meeting and holding Ron's terrified blue ones. "Morning, Ron," he greeted with a tired tipsy salute, no longer looking wild or dangerous, just sad. The boy really hadn't needed to hear anything like that, and Remus' conscience pinched as he eased away from Tonks, who morphed back into her more usual shape.

"Holy shit! Merlin, Ron Weasley, your mother will kill me!"

Both Ron and Remus looked at her in surprise and shrugged. "Don't know why, it wasn't your fault I heard something I wasn't supposed to," Ron commented miserably. "I'm sorry, Professor Lupin, I didn't mean to eavesdrop."

"Remus will do, Ron. What have you there? Oh, Regulus' sneaky ear, a bit like your brothers' extendible ears, only more primitive and upmarket. Doesn't matter what you heard, the news about the new werewolf laws will be on the front page of the Daily Prophet for anyone to read by tomorrow morning. Thanks to your brother we had enough of a warning to make different arrangements for most of the property and children. Very few were caught, most having shifted the responsibility to family or friends. As for Professor Snape's injuries, well, I'm sure they will become common knowledge all too soon." He finished his third or fourth glass of the liqueur and licked the inside clean with his tongue before pouring another brimming glass. "This stuff is bloody good," he commented absently as he chewed on his unshaven lip.

"You should be under the table by now; that stuff is lethal," Tonks commented disapprovingly, checking the level of the much depleted bottle.

"I'm a werewolf, darling; I have the constitution of a horse."

"And you have picked up some bad habits from your wild friends," Tonks added with pursed lips.

"Probably fleas, too," he shot back with a wicked grin that made Ron giggle, his embarrassment of a moment ago forgotten.

"Well, you could use a jolly good wash, now you mention it, you pong!" Tonks sniffed delicately and made a show of holding her nose which had morphed into something an elephant would not be ashamed of. "Too many cleaning spells and not enough soap and water over too long a period of time, I'm thinking."

"What I need is a bath, a shave, a haircut and some decent robes; what I am going to have to settle for is a damned good meal, then get on the road again. If Snape is out of the running, I had better tap my other sources and see what I can find out. Merlin's Arse, Tonks, I must have been a wicked bastard in my past life!" He heaved himself to his feet, staggered once, then straightened and drew his wand. Most traces of drunkenness disappeared at his charm, and before he left he cast Reparo over the table almost carelessly. Ron could only admire the skill that went into making it look so effortless as he followed the werewolf out and went to look for Harry.

~~*~~

Hermione was just coming down the stairs and stopped in surprise and admiration as the man swaggered by, heading toward the kitchen. He had broad shoulders and a great behind, cupped in worn denim, and looked totally edible in a very bad-boy way. Ron glanced up and caught her staring, covering his mouth in wicked amusement. He had seen that look on Hermione's face before when checking out the backsides of the Quidditch chasers in the Canons line-up, very discretely, of course.

"And who was that?" she asked, no longer blushing when her best friend caught her looking. She and Ron had a very firm understanding, now that they had passed the madly infatuated stage and moved into the friends-for-life-but-platonic stage, same as she and Harry. It had taken quite some time to reconcile themselves and Molly to the fact, but now they were comfortable with each other again.

"Down, girl, I don't have any napkins to wipe up the drool," Ron teased cheerfully. "Oh, he's just a field agent," he added airily when Hermione looked like she might choke him.

A bark of laughter came from the kitchen and from the parlour doorway as Tonks came out and overheard them. "Turn your ears down, Mister! This is girl talk!" she bellowed and another bark of laughter came from the kitchen. "Forget it, Hon, Remus doesn't go in for little girls as he just informed me a few minutes ago."

"That wonderful piece of man-flesh is not available or interested?" Hermione squeaked and grinned almost maliciously as Ron turned bright scarlet, hushing her almost frantically. "What? You started it," she reminded him with a wicked grin.

"It's Professor Lupin, Hermione, and he can hear you!" Ron hissed making hushing motions.

"Profes... Oh Merlin!" Hermione clapped her hands over her mouth her eyes as big as saucers. She was brave enough when teasing Ron or Harry, but not when caught out by 'authority'.

"Yeah, it's marvellous what those blasted robes can conceal," Tonks added with a grin for the younger woman. "Makes you speculate about other well known public figures, doesn't it? Snape? Malfoy? Fudge?"

"That is an image I could have lived without," Ron gasped and gagged theatrically while Hermione and Tonks collapsed in each other's arms giggling madly. "Come on, Hermione, let's find Harry before I have to pull my eyes out and pop my eardrums to survive!"

"Ah! You're no fun, Weasley," Tonks teased, ruffling his hair as he passed.

There was a sudden, unearthly screech from further down the passage, and they all cringed as Mrs Black's picture let loose a string of invective, screaming about wild, filthy animals and disgusting man-loving social climbers. She was mid-way though another tirade when a roar of sheer fury caught them all by surprise.

"I have had enough of you! You were a brass-plated bitch in life, and you have not improved in death. Sirius might have thought you were funny, sitting up there mouthing invectives like a wind-up spell, but I am not so tolerant!"

The picture's screams of temper became screams of fear as a horrendous ripping sound caused them all to run forward. Remus stood before the picture, his jacket discarded, his wand transfigured into a saw-bladed knife. Muscles rippled as he stuck the point into the wall despite the spells and curses on the plaster and lathes. Magic crackled and sparked as the point was pushed further and further into the wall despite magic. Lupin swore fluidly and fluently as sparks bit into his skin. No matter what the magic did, Lupin ignored it as he ruthlessly and vindictively cut a square out of the wall, neatly excising the picture, frame and all.

Tonks had her wand out and was quick to put out any sparks that tried to set the werewolf alight, as he worked with the grim determination of the slightly drunk and very angry. Fire, especially magical fire, was very dangerous to werewolves, but Lupin seemed oblivious in his ire.

Finally, with a long drawn-out wail, the picture came free, leaving a new window into the kitchen. The piece of wall fell on the hall runner with a clatter as Lupin drooped, his breath coming out in great gasps as he glared down triumphantly at the old woman, who stared up disbelievingly from her place on the floor. "Damn you, you animal! I curse you to hell and...."

"Too late, Witch, I already got there and I'm coming back to get you, too!" he roared, taking a swig of the bottle he had still clutched in his left hand. "Now, how are we going to make you suffer, humm? I remember Sirius put the hose on you and that didn't work. Perhaps if we...." He was reaching for the fly in his jeans even as he spoke.

"Remus Lupin! What do you think you are doing, man!" Arthur Weasley sounded scandalised as he hurried up, surveying the hole in the wall and the fallen painting with open-mouthed disbelief. "Well, I never! You cut her down? I thought there was too much magic to just cut it out. What did you use to counteract the spells?"

"Chocolate liqueur and bad temper, mostly," Tonks put in and stuck her tongue out at Remus who - incredibly - poked his very long tongue out in return.

Shaking his head, Arthur chuckled and levitated the picture away from the wall and up the stairs. His spell banished the painting to the attic, into the darkest, quietest corner he could find. Tonks slung an arm around the blushing Remus' shoulders and turned him toward the kitchen while Ron and Hermione watched them go. Arthur frowned at the two young people as if wondering what they were doing there, so Ron hurriedly bursting into speech.

"We were just looking for Mum to ask her something. Do you know where she is?"

"In the ballroom, I should think. Professor Snape has been badly hurt, and your mother has been working all night. If you can avoid disturbing her, I would appreciate it, son."

"Okay, Dad, we'll only speak to her if she's awake. Come on, Hermione, we'd better find Harry."