The Black Sheep

Chapter one

Nymphadora's Request

The sun had long since set over the small village of Ottery-St.-Catchpole, casting the Weasley residence, the Burrow, into a night that still was not dark enough to match the mood of those inside. Six wizards and witches, members from the Order of the Phoenix, were scattered around the kitchen, drowning their sorrows in steaming mugs of tea. Molly Weasley stood at the sink, monitoring a scrubbing brush as it worked furiously on a grubby saucepan. Kingsley Shacklebolt stood close by her, leaning against a battered cupboard. Seated around the long, scrubbed-wood kitchen table were Arthur Weasley, Mad-Eye Moody, Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks. Every once in a while one of them coughed or sneezed, which was followed by the obligatory blessing, but for the most part, the silence that hung over the kitchen was as thick as the steam pouring out of the kettle over the kitchen fire. Their leader, mentor and friend, Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of the age, had been murdered. Such a loss was enough of a blow in and of itself. But that it had been at the hands of Severus Snape, a man Dumbledore had trusted seemingly beyond reason, left them all to pass between states of passionate fury and overwhelming grief.

"It's no good," said Kingsley finally. "There's no way to know what's coming next. He was our only source of information." Kingsley added a long string of expletives under his breath as Moody spoke up.

"I wouldn't be putting too much stock in any of that so-called information."

"I still can't believe it!" said Molly from the sink.

"We've got to get over that, Molly dear," said her husband sadly.

"Well, I can't get over it!" she exclaimed despairingly, stifling a sob. "Oh, Arthur, what are we going to do?"

Arthur stood and embraced his wife, patting her consolingly on the back and looking around at the others, his expression tired and forlorn.

"The only thing we can do right now is protect ourselves as best we can," said Remus, grasping Tonks's hand tightly in his own. "Until we can find some way of tracking the Death Eaters' movements, there is no sense in worrying about it."

"Well, the best way of getting information is from the inside out. Maybe we can turn someone already in Voldemort's organization," said Kingsley, quickly suppressing a grimace as he uttered Voldemort's name.

"Or maybe we could get someone else in. Someone more reliable," growled Moody.

"Who in the world would take such a mission?" asked Molly plaintively. "We couldn't ask anyone to do that. It would be suicide."

Tonks had remained uncharacteristically silent ever since the conversation had begun, and this fact did not escape Remus's notice. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, his apprehension growing with each passing moment. After a pause, Tonks looked up at the others, and Remus steeled himself for the worst.

"I think I know someone who can help."

"No," said Remus quickly, before anyone could respond, "we need you here, Tonks."

Tonks smiled humorlessly.

"It's not me." She hesitated a moment before she continued. "It's my older sister, Boadicea."

There was a pause as everyone absorbed this information in varying states of surprise.

"I didn't know you have a sister," said Molly finally.

"Yes, well," Tonks's brow furrowed, "I don't talk about her a lot. We had a bit of a...falling out when she started using Mum's maiden name instead of Tonks."

"You mean she goes by 'Black'?" asked Remus, looking slightly bewildered.

"Boadicea Black?" said Kingsley suddenly, "Where have I heard that name before?"

"She's won the National Dueling Championship for the past three years in a row," said Tonks bitterly, "which of course is only further proof of her superiority over all of us ordinary wizards and witches. She has always let that stupid 'Noble House of Black' rubbish go to her head. She used to drive Mum crazy. They'd have these huge rows all the time, because Bo's attitude was exactly what Mum hated about her family when she was growing up. Bo moved out the minute she turned seventeen, and she doesn't talk to any of us, if she can help it, which suits me just fine," she finished savagely.

"Sounds like she'd be a good prospect for the other side," said Moody gruffly.

"No." Tonks dropped her crossed arms, the spite gone from her voice. "Bo may be an insufferable prat, but she is no traitor."

"How can you be sure, Tonks?" asked Molly gently.

"She loves Dad," said Tonks simply. "And she loved Mum, too. She just doesn't know how to show it, stupid git."

Tonks looked over at Remus, who was watching her with an odd mix of relief and confusion on his face.

"Well...what do you think, Arthur?" asked Kingsley.

"I'm not sure. Molly's right, anyone who attempts to infiltrate Voldemort's inner circle will be putting their lives in grave danger. Voldemort's skill at Legilimency rules out all but the most gifted witches and wizards, even as a possibility. Do you think your sister would be capable of such a thing, Tonks?"

"She'd have no problem with Occlumency; she used to say it was an essential advantage in dueling. In case your opponent tries to take a peek at your strategy."

"The Death Eaters won't make it easy for her. It's likely she'll have to prove her loyalty to Voldemort more than once," growled Moody.

"It won't be too hard for her," said Tonks, bitter once more. "I expect Auntie Bella will be delighted to have another Black back in the family fold. Not to mention Bo's little Slytherin friends from school, there must be two or three working for Voldemort by now."

"Oh Tonks, are you sure you want your sister involved in such a dangerous--"

"It was just an idea, Molly," Tonks said, cutting her off. "She thinks I'm an idiot for joining the Order, so I don't know how anyone could convince her to help us."

"We could try," said Arthur, the weariness in his face offset by the solemn determination that now gleamed in his eyes. "Will you ask her to come here, Tonks?"

"Sure," said Tonks, standing from her seat at the table, and stretching her arms up over her head.

"You can use the fire in the living room, dear," said Molly, and Tonks walked out of the kitchen and disappeared into the hallway.

The living room at 33 Noxbury Hill could not have been more different from the Weasley's warm, inviting den. The wall that held the fireplace was otherwise occupied with bookshelves that were overflowing with books of every size and shape. A long, narrow wooden table stood against the opposite wall, its surface littered with more books, paper, inkbottles, quills, mortars with their pestles, potion ingredients including a chopped and browning yellow root, something black and slimy in a scum-covered glass bowl, and two large, black cauldrons. There were only three other pieces of furniture in the entire room; a rather beaten-looking end-table with a reading lamp on top, and two worn chairs upholstered in a dark, leather-like material. One chair was empty, but the other held a young witch with an open book in her lap, and a long letter that she held in front of her face. She had a pretty, heart-shaped face and large, dark eyes, which moved at a furious pace over the letter's contents. A small crease had formed in the pale skin between her brows, and it grew deeper as she read. When she had finished, she made a soft noise of disgust, tossed her waist-length chestnut colored hair away from her face, stood, and walked over to the long table. She had just placed both the letter and the book on the top of a small pile of papers when the flames in the fireplace suddenly erupted in a shower of green sparks, and the young witch turned to see a head topped with spiky, bubblegum-pink hair appear in the grate. The brown-haired witch walked over to the fire, her eyes narrowing as Tonks's head spoke from between the flames.

"Bo, are you there?" Tonks called loudly.

"There is no need to shout, Nymphadora, I can hear you just fine from anywhere in the house," said the young witch with a frown.

Tonks scowled. "No one calls me that anymore, and you know it."

"I should think you'd be proud to use the name our dolt of a mother gave you."

Tonks's cheeks turned a bright red, making her head look as if it were a giant, glowing ember. "Don't you dare--"

"Is there a particular reason for this visit, or did you only pop in to catch up on old times?" asked Bo in a bored voice.

"Yes," Tonks struggled to compose herself, "some friends of mine want to speak with you."

"Why?"

"They--they want to ask you something," said Tonks lamely.

"I suppose it has something to do with that ridiculous secret society you joined," said Bo, nodding her head toward the long table and the letter she'd been reading. "I just got a letter from a friend of mine who saw you holding hands with one of them at Dumbledore's funeral. The one who also happens to be a werewolf, no less." Bo made a derisive noise with her tongue. "You never cease to amaze me, Nymphadora."

"Will you come and talk with them or not?" Tonks asked through clenched teeth.

"I really don't see why I should."

"Well, we could all come to Noxbury Hill for a proper visit," said Tonks with a broad smirk.

"Is that a threat?" Bo's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"No, it's a suggestion, since you didn't like my first one."

Bo watched her sister for a moment, her expression calculating, the dancing green flames reflected in her own dark eyes. Then, she exhaled sharply through her nose.

"Fine, I'll listen to your friends, as long as they understand that they are not welcome in my house. Where are you?" she asked, reaching for a glass jar on the mantelpiece.

"The Burrow," said Tonks, and at once, the spiky pink hair disappeared from the fire. With a deep sigh, Bo cast the glittering dust she'd taken from the jar into the fire, and the flames leapt up again, as large and green as when Tonks had first appeared. Bo stepped into the fire, feeling the flames gently caressing her face, and said, "The Burrow!"

As Bo stepped out of the living room fireplace at the Burrow, a flurry of movement to the left caught her eye, and her hand instinctively went for her wand. But it was only Molly, who joined the others assembled in the living room wearing a cross expression.

"Welcome to the Burrow, dear," she said politely to her newest guest, and then turned to her husband. "Arthur, your children are trying to use those ridiculous Everlasting Ears or Eavesdropping Ears, or whatever they are again."

Arthur sighed, and extended his hand in Bo's direction.

"Hello, Boadicea. My name is Arthur Weasley. Your sister has told us a good deal about you."

Bo took his hand with a sour expression, but did not say anything.

"Yes, well, erm..." Arthur cleared his throat. "We've asked you to join us here tonight so that we might relate to you a--proposal, if you will. Won't you sit down?" He directed her to the threadbare armchair closest to the fire, and Bo sat, looking each of the people in the room from top to bottom in turn. Her gaze lingered for a moment on Remus, paused to take in his tattered robes and patched trousers, and came to rest again on Arthur. Arthur watched her for a moment, and then moved to sit facing her on the sofa. He cleared his throat again.

"I'm not sure if you know everyone here. That is my wife, Molly, who has just come from dealing with our two youngest children. This is Alastor Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Remus Lupin."

Each of them nodded as they were introduced, though Bo did not acknowledge them. She stared at each of them stoically, and then looked back to Arthur when he had finished his introductions. He appeared to be at a momentary loss for words, when Tonks spoke from next to the fireplace.

"You know how Dumbledore died, don't you, Bo?"

Bo cast her sister a withering look, but turned back to address Arthur when she spoke.

"Of course I do. Severus Snape killed him."

"That is correct," said Arthur, who seemed to have found his voice. "He killed Dumbledore when the man was already half-dead from some kind of poison. We had thought he would never betray Dumbledore in such a heinous, foul manner, but..."

"There's some that think that kind of score should be paid back," growled Moody from another chair. "There's some that think that kind of betrayal should be answered."

"What, so you're planning to go after him? You brought me here to help you with some kind of revenge for Dumbledore?" asked Bo, her voice heavy with mocking incredulity.

"No, that's not the reason," said Arthur quickly, "although we do need your help. I'm not sure you are aware of this, but--" he cast an anxious eye over at Mad-Eye, who gave the slightest of nods, "for quite a while, we, that is to say, Dumbledore's supporters, were under the impression that Severus Snape was also loyal to Dumbledore."

Bo made no sign of either agreement or disbelief, so Arthur continued.

"But now it appears that we were all very much mistaken to ever trust him," Arthur's words gained a contemptuous bite, "and the revelation comes at the worst possible time. You see...Severus Snape had been a member of the Order of the Phoenix."

Again, Bo remained as impassive as she had been on her arrival. When Arthur lost his voice for the second time, Kingsley continued where he had left off.

"So we counted on the information which Snape passed to us. It was vital information, keeping people out of harm's way, finding out what Voldemort's next move was before he made it, protecting those who weren't even aware that they needed protection. And we believed that his information was accurate, since it always seemed to work out to our advantage. But now, there is no one left, no one to help us prevent any more unnecessary deaths."

"We were hoping you might be able to do a little of that for us, lassie," growled Moody.

For a moment, Tonks thought her sister was going to explode with laughter. She sat, her hands in her lap, and her eyes watching the faces of those directly in front of her. Finally, she spoke, her voice shaking in the attempt to keep it light.

"Do I hear you correctly? You want me to become a Death Eater, so I can risk my life on an hourly basis, playing spy for a bunch of people who I have never before met? Are you all insane?"

"We hoped that you might see how many people desperately need someone like you. There are not many who could accomplish something like this," said Arthur. Bo's eyes narrowed again.

"Flattery will get you nowhere," she said disdainfully. "I cannot believe that you would ask something like this of a perfect stranger. Now that Dumbledore is gone, you obviously do not have the capacity to keep your 'Order' in order. I suggest that you disband at once, and do your best to keep your heads down."

"I told you that she is impossible!" Tonks burst out, her face reddening once again as she walked over to face her sister in the chair. "You're going to sit there and tell us not to rock the boat, just like you told me two years ago?! Dumbledore is dead, and we are all going to join him unless we all do something! You can't just sit around and wait for Voldemort to knock on your front door!"

"Ah, but I don't plan on giving the Dark Lord any reason to pay me a visit," said Bo with the air of someone stating the obvious.

"Do you think that matters to him, lassie?" asked Moody. "Do you think he'll leave yeh alone because you haven't cast your lot with one side or the other yet? That don't matter to him none. Sooner or later, we all have to choose sides, and we're asking you to join ours for the better so you don't get forced into joinin' his for the worse."

"Spoken like a true idiot," said Bo scornfully. "I can see why Nymphadora joined your little group; she fits right in with all of you. You're all obsessed with the illusion of good triumphing over evil, but the rest of us, the ones who live in the real world understand that it isn't so simple."

"Mum thought it was that simple," said Tonks, her voice trembling with rage. "Mum knew that she had to fight against Voldemort, even though both of her sisters were working for him."

"Is that why you associate with these people?" Bo asked her. "You think this is what Mum would have done? Well, actually, I suppose you're right; Mum managed to get on the Dark Lord's bad side and he killed her, leaving a widower and two children to pick up the pieces. I ask you, where did her self-righteousness get her? Where did it get us? You may be content to follow in her simpleton's footsteps, but I am not."

Tonks's wand materialized in her hand so fast that no one saw it until it was pointed at her sister, whose expression instantly became icy cold. Remus made to stand, but Arthur held him back, and said in a voice of forced calm,

"Tonks, please put your wand down."

Tonks was shaking from head to foot, her face still bright red, and her fury seemingly beyond words. She stared at her sister, her wand still held a few feet from Bo's face, who stared right back, her face inscrutable and dispassionate. Slowly, Tonks lowered her wand, turned on her heel, and stomped away back into the kitchen. Remus freed himself from Arthur's staying hand, and followed her. For a moment, those who remained in the living room sat in silence. Then, from the corner of the room, Molly said faintly,

"Can you not see how very much we need your help, Boadicea? We are all frightened, for ourselves, for our families. We cannot simply sit around and worry all day, a person could go insane from doing that." She gave a little shudder, and looked to her husband.

"I know that what we ask of you is incredibly dangerous," said Arthur quietly, "and all that we have a right to expect is that you please consider what we've said. Tonks has told us that there are people you care about. Think of them; think of their safety, and how you might feel if you lost one of them, knowing that you did not do everything you could to keep them safe."

He rose from the couch and walked over to Bo where she still sat with the same inscrutable expression. He extended his hand, and she took it as she stood.

"Please contact us as soon as you reach a decision, whatever it may be."

For a moment, Bo gazed deeply into his eyes, giving him the fleeting impression that she could see straight through to something behind his head. She released herself from his grip, and said softly,

"I will."

Tossing a pinch of a glimmering powder from a pouch at her waist into the fireplace, she bowed her head and stepped into the roaring green fire, whirling away in a blaze of emerald flames. Molly sighed dispiritedly and moved to embrace her husband again.

"Do you think we made the right choice, telling her about all of this, Arthur?"

Arthur watched the fire slowly change back into its usual merry yellow, stroking his wife's shoulder absentmindedly. For a moment, he said nothing.

"I'm not sure, Molly dear," he said finally. "All I know is that we had to try."