Love Among Muggles

Andromeda skipped into the Room of Requirement. "I've had a letter from Ted," she told Claire and Molly eagerly. "He's going to be out in the field for some days, so he can't be in contact. It sounds as though he's going to be working with some interesting people." She waved a much-read piece of parchment at them. She kept it in her book bag so it would be close to her, and every time she reached for a book, her fingers would brush the letter.

"Yes, he sent me a note about Maggie too," Claire said. "It sounds as though she's having a bad time with all the Dementors around her."

Andromeda frowned. "You know, that really bothers me. If she's only been accused of something, there shouldn't be so many in her area of the prison. She's in custody, but she hasn't been convicted."

Molly said, "Well, her trial's on Monday, isn't it? She'll be let out then."

Claire smiled weakly. Andromeda and Molly, for all their kindness, were purebloods. They had complete faith in their justice system, because they and their friends had always been treated kindly by it. Claire was not so optimistic. She would only share their faith when Maggie was free once more.

**

This, Ted Tonks thought to himself, has to be the worst assignment in the world. I don't know how Geraldine puts up with it. No wonder she was so keen to go and vet families of Muggleborn wizards.

Ted was looking after Geraldine Cooper's farmhouse and land high up in the hills of mid-Wales. Geraldine's cover was that she was an eccentric middle-aged lady with a passion for horoscopes, crystal balls and other such nonsense. Ted had been draughted in as her ex-lover, there to watch the farm while she went away on family matters. There was a cottage in a nearby field, which Geraldine had rented to a group of hippies keen to start a commune. Ted had magically lengthened his hair and bought some extremely nasty flared trousers in an attempt to look like the sort of person they might want to talk to. "Don't worry," Geraldine had told him. "They're utter sweeties, apart from the leader who is a complete rat but does seem to have useful contacts around the country. Just keep an ear open for anything they're talking about, hmm?"

And with those brief instructions issued and a file of papers handed over, she'd picked up her bags and driven as fast as she could to the nearest town and civilisation.

A city boy at heart, Ted detested the countryside. It was boring. It smelled funny. The chickens and sheep Geraldine kept were also boring and smelled funny. At least the place was miles from anyone who would care what he was up to. Ted looked across at the sack of chicken feed. He couldn't be bothered to get up and fetch it, so tried a quick "Accio chickenfeed!"

The bag of grains shot across the farmyard to him, and a girl gasped. Ted whirled round; slipping his wand quickly into the sleeve of his shirt as he did, to see a very strange creature indeed - and he'd met merpeople while at school.

"How... how did you do that?" the girl asked. She had long, centre-parted mousy hair and a long floral dress that could have done with a good wash. On closer inspection, he decided she too could use some soap and water. She was a couple of years younger than him, perhaps around 19.

Oh hell, thought Ted, I've just revealed myself to someone I'm supposed to be watching for breaches of secrecy. "Um, I'm psychic," he lied. "Telekinesis."

She ran over and ran her fingers through the chickenfeed as if to check that it was real. "I've known loads of people who've tried it, but you're the first I've met who could actually do it. Can you do anything else?" She smiled, and he realized that with a bit of cleaning up, grooming and a change of clothes, she would be quite an attractive young woman.

"No. Just that."

"The others are never going to believe this," she gasped. "I'm Sky, from the other house."

'Sky'... According to Geraldine's dossier, that meant he was talking to Gladys Bunch of Southampton, a good girl but a dreamer. 'Aneurin', the leader, had brought Gladys here as his girlfriend but since brought in a new girl called Sunflower. Gladys, still dreaming of peace, love and beauty, had fought down her disappointment and stayed on. "Don't tell the others," Ted urged. "I don't like people knowing about it."

"Will you teach me?"

"I'll try," Ted said, "As long as you don't tell the others. But you probably won't be able to learn it." Gladys was just the sort of Muggle who was most dangerous to the wizarding world: the sort who ached for something more than the world around her. She definitely wouldn't be able to do magic, that he knew. You had to be born with the ability. Still, if the hope of achieving something kept her quiet, it would stop him having to alter her memory. Ted hated memory alterations. Sometimes they were necessary, but most of the time they just seemed like an assault on someone else's personality and always seemed to leave some residual damage. He also wasn't very good at them; really he should call in the Obliviators, but in the time they would take to reach the farmhouse, any harm Gladys could do would be done. "I'm Bob."

Gladys smiled shyly. "You're younger than I expected. I thought her boyfriend would be old."

"We met... through common interests," Ted lied. "The relationship didn't last, but we're good friends."

They chatted for ages before Ted even thought of asking Gladys why she'd come up to the farmhouse in the first place. She wanted to 'borrow' some flour. Geraldine had warned him that the commune was virtually penniless and the girls occasionally came to cadge supplies. Ted gave Gladys the flour anyway, and later took a mug of tea and a sandwich out to an old tramp who was sitting by a hedgerow. The tramp asked if he could sleep in the barn, and Ted allowed him to. Poor old homeless Muggle! At least a wizard could keep himself warm, no matter where he was.

It was with some relief that Ted left on Monday morning. Geraldine had arrived on Sunday night, flinging her bags down in the kitchen and slumping with relief into a chair. With a flick of her wand she'd moved the kettle onto the Aga and lit the oil lamp - ironically, despite both she and Ted being Muggleborn, the house was so antiquated it would have satisfied even most pureblood wizards.

"Why do we have to be so secretive?" she had wailed.

"Problems?" Ted had asked. Geraldine was clearly grateful to have someone with magical ability to talk to.

"I've been watching the families of eight potential Hogwarts students, and every single one of those children is going to be a problem. One girl is on the verge of religious mania, convinced that because she wants something to happen and it does, miracles are happening. Three of the boys are already serious tearaways with discipline problems at their current schools, mainly because their classmates ostracise them for being strange, but at least we can get Jack to send letters from the Ministry for Education claiming they're going to a special school for unruly kids. If we could only tell those parents what their children are..."

"Maybe one day," Ted had soothed. His own parents still believed he'd won an academic scholarship and now worked for the Home Office. Muggle parents simply weren't told what their children were. "Things have been quiet here, anyway. I've seen quite a bit of Gladys, the one who calls herself Sky. I think she's really unhappy with her situation." Ted was worried that Gladys wanted not just to leave, but also to leave with him.

"Good." Geraldine had made the tea with another flick of her wand. "Aneurin treats her like rubbish. I've been teaching her a bit of Herbology - no, don't look at me like that - so she can work with plants. Any fool can learn to make mint tea or simple non-magical medicines. If she's going to spend her life on the fringes of society, that'll give her a little status and keep the likes of Aneurin from exploiting her in future. It'll also muddy the water for real witches if odd Muggles go out collecting plants."

"I can't blame you for the Herbology. We should turn ourselves both in. She caught me doing an Accio. She now believes I'm psychic."

"Oh, Ted, you idiot!"

"I know, but what can we do? It's all very well for those oafs at the Ministry, or people like Abraxas Malfoy, who has so much money he doesn't even have to interact with most other wizards, let alone Muggles. The rest of us have to interact with Muggles to survive, and there are always going to be some breaches."

"Speaking of oafs at the Ministry, will you be going to the trial tomorrow?"

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away."

So on Monday Ted woke and dressed, feeling horribly nervous. He'd had no contact with the wizarding world for a week, apart from reading a fantastic book on the history of the Wimbourne Wasps, and was desperate for news. He guessed that the Minister hadn't resigned; Geraldine would have mentioned it. The nearest Floo fireplace was at the University in Lampeter, so he had a half-hour drive ahead of him. He washed and dressed absentmindedly, and crammed down a bacon sandwich for breakfast. Geraldine was already out feeding the chickens, and he waved her goodbye.

All along the juddering drive to St David's University Ted tried to keep his nerve, and to keep his bacon sandwich down. On showing his Ministry accreditation at the Porters' Lodge, he was ushered into the back room where they 'sorted the post' (in reality, the letters sorted themselves), and Ted was permitted to use the large fireplace to return to the Ministry. The head porter was actually Professor Geraint Pryce. Only the university's few magical students, who attended special 'tutor groups', realised that the old man who handed out post and shouted at students for climbing trees was really the European authority on Arithmancy and Dean of the Faculty of Magic.

Maggie's trial was going to be the biggest seen at the Ministry of Magic since the days of Grindelwald. The full court was sitting, and when Ted arrived the Lobby was crowded with witches and wizards, from the talented and humane who had earned their seats to the conniving and power-hungry who had somehow weaselled their way onto the Wizengamot. Plenty of people with an interest in the case were also in the Lobby, although the Minister was conspicuously absent. Michael Osborne, a Muggleborn from Goblin Liaison, was waiting for Ted. They wouldn't be allowed into the courtroom, and so followed the Wizengamot down and then lurked in the corridors outside the courtroom. Abraxas Malfoy, who played with politics and politicians like a child with a train set, was there, of course. Several members of Andromeda's immediate family were hanging around in the subterranean corridors. Michael patted Ted's arm. "She'll be fine. We all know she's innocent. She'll walk through that door at any moment."

'Any moment' seemed to take forever. Around mid-morning a very dapper man walked past, wearing robes of a suave, yet foreign, cut. He was in the company of the Minister for Magic. Ted guessed he must be a representative of the French Wizarding Fraternity. Michael had a packet of ham sandwiches in his briefcase, and he and Ted shared them around lunchtime. The sandwiches were dry, and they'd stopped talking by this point, sick of words and desperate for action.

At mid-afternoon members of the Wizengamot started filtering out, looking grim-faced. Ted grabbed the arm of Griselda Marchbanks, a witch he knew to be fair. They were reasonably well acquainted. "What was the verdict?" he pleaded.

Madam Marchbanks looked heartbroken. "She's been found guilty, Mr. Tonks... there was so much evidence against her. The papers in her flat, and the trips overseas..."

Ted had stopped listening, though. He pushed through the crowd into the courtroom, but Maggie was already gone. As he looked around frantically, trying to work out where to go next, Albus Dumbledore grabbed his shoulder. "She's already gone, Ted," he said.

"Gone where? Back to Azkaban?" He tried to work out whether they'd taken a Portkey or left by some other means.

Dumbledore watched his comrades filter out. Gently he broke the news. "She's gone, Ted. They had a Dementor waiting for her."

Ted felt as though the world had fallen away beneath him. Even when he'd been most pessimistic, he'd never imagined his friend would have her soul taken. He'd feared she might remain in Azkaban until her friends could gather enough evidence for a retrial, but not this.

Dumbledore led Ted to the lift, and rode up with him to his office, where Jack Bentley was waiting with a big glass of Firewhisky. Jack had contacts of his own to pass on the news. Dumbledore simply watched Ted for a minute or two. He was fond of him, even though the boy - or young man, as he now was - had a genius for getting himself into tricky situations other people would have the sense to avoid. Dumbledore wanted to keep Ted in this quiet office while he regained his thoughts. Eventually he spoke again, "Your friend, to all intents and purposes, no longer exists. The reasoning was that they had no idea what secrets she'd stolen, and couldn't risk her revealing them in future." It was clear that the venerable wizard had been against the punishment from his angry tone.

"I... she..." Ted couldn't form a proper sentence.

"One of my friends dropped by just before you arrived," Jack said to Dumbledore. "He mentioned the reference codes on the documents. Interesting sources. Department of International Magical Co-operation, Goblin Liaison..."

Dumbledore nodded. "The matter was raised. The prosecutor said she stole from various sources to avoid too much being missed. People believed him, too."

Ted looked up. "If Maggie was taking papers home, though, they'd have come from the Minister's office. They'd have his code on them. She never went near Goblin Liaison, she couldn't get anything from there."

He tried to stand up, but Jack pushed him roughly back into his seat and forced the drink into his hand. "Where are you going?"

"Don't you see, this proves they got it wrong! There was no way she could have got those papers."

"Unless she had an accomplice. Or two. Or as many as someone needs her to have," Jack said. "If she was as innocent as you believe, then she was set up. People might have disliked her for what she was, but that's not a reason to go to these lengths. There's a bigger stake being played for here. Don't rock the boat, Ted. You can't help her now."

"What did the Minister say?" Ted asked. "Tell me he defended her, at least."

"He was a fool," Dumbledore said simply. "He tried neither to defend her nor condemn her. He'd guessed which way things would go, and could not lie but didn't want to be accused of knowing what was going on."

Ted gulped the whisky. "I can't believe she's gone," he said. "I need to see her."

"Don't," Jack warned. "It's better if you think of her as dead."

A memo squeezed its way under the door and flew to Jack's hand. He unfolded the lilac parchment. "Ah, it's from my chum in the Press Office," he said. "The Minister has resigned. All the pantomime of finding a replacement is upon us."

This did not console Ted. If the idiot had resigned sooner, Maggie might still be a person. He vowed to himself that, no matter what, he would find out who had been behind this action. While Jack enjoyed the pantomime, Ted would be looking for the person who wrote the script they were all playing along to.