The Shape of Me

Chapter Four

Bella

The next week, my classes at the Ministry resumed as usual. It had been an absolutely horrible week at home after the news of Sirius had reached us, and so I was glad to be getting out of my house and away from Mum's alternating silence and over-bright chatter. Dad was busy all the time and rarely at home, so the excuse to escape was one I grabbed at eagerly. Once I got there, however, I dragged my feet all the way to the classroom, uninterested in speaking to anyone, let alone Sully. But before I knew it, there I was, facing the last barrier that lay between myself and my annoyingly intrusive tutor. With a resigned sigh, I opened the door and entered the classroom.

Sully was in his customary spot at the desk, shuffling through papers as though the intervening weeks had never interrupted our class schedule. Without looking up as I came in, he said, "Hello, Miss Tonks. I hope that you have continued to practice. Please assume your proper face, and we will start by..."
At that point, he raised his head and saw me, and his brows drew together with alarming speed. "What's wrong?" he asked me brusquely, but not without a measure of concern. He stood up, frowning, and approached me where I had frozen at his question.

"Nothing," I mumbled, absolutely unwilling to confide any of my cares to him. It was a family matter, and it didn't need to go any further than the family. Besides, I was so confused as to what I was feeling about everything that the last thing I wanted was the third degree over it from Sully. But he wasn't about to let it go that easily.

"Sit down," he said sternly, and I ambled over to my seat. He didn't bother pulling up a chair; instead he leaned against the front of his desk, studying me with his hazy blue eyes. When I was seated, he cocked his head to the side and said, "I asked you what was wrong."

I glared at him, hating him for his insistence on probing my wounds. "Nothing," I growled sulkily, a little louder than the first time, and he shook his head.

"Bullshit," he said pleasantly, and I was so surprised at his language that I abandoned my sullen attitude for a minute. "Kid, you seem to have forgotten that you can't pull these things over on me. A young Metamorphmagus who usually can't hold still comes in here moving as though one wrong step will break her, and nothing is wrong? You would have to be very, very upset to act like that. Now, tell me what is wrong."

"It's none of your business," I snapped at him, recovering my anger as he peered at me. "I don't have to tell you anything!"

He appeared to consider that for a minute. "I suppose that you don't have to tell me anything, but I assure you that it most certainly is my business if it disrupts this class, or your ability to concentrate on what I am teaching you."

"I'm not disrupting anything! You started yelling at me as soon as I came in!"

"My dear, the only one doing any sort of yelling is you, and I would suggest that you get yourself under control. I am not attacking you; I'm only asking what is bothering you so badly. There is absolutely no way that you will have the concentration necessary for this class while you are moping over whatever it is. I would think that you would be celebrating, like everyone else."

I gave a brittle little laugh. "Oh, yeah. Celebrating. Sure." He just stared at me blandly. "Um, whee? Look, I really don't feel like celebrating, or talking about what's bothering me, or anything. Can we just get to work?"

"There's nothing for us to do until you have gotten this burden off your chest," he replied calmly. "You haven't the ability for it." The casual barb was like a spark on gunpowder, igniting the repressed feelings that I had been harboring for over a week.

"I hate you!" I screamed abruptly, jolting out of my seat. "You are the most horrible person I've ever met, and I don't want to be in your class anymore! My life doesn't make sense anymore; my cousin just killed a whole bunch of people and I can't understand why, and you're so smug and nasty and telling me that I ought to be celebrating?"

His eyes went wide, and he stood too. "Black is your cousin?" he asked me quietly, and I think at that point he may have understood what I was experiencing, but I was way beyond reason. I'm not positive, but I'm pretty sure that Sully was something of an exception, being as reserved as he was. Most Metamorphmagi that I have known of were all very emotive, and as I had been bottling up my feelings so long, I was almost literally exploding with all of my rage, grief and confusion.

"Yes!" I shrieked back at him. "And there were people depending on him, and he was gonna help beat the bad people, he had a plan and... DON'T TOUCH ME!" I leapt away as though he were a troll, as he stepped forward with a hand extended to me.

"Nymphadora," he said gently, and I raised my tiny fists at him.

"DON"T CALL ME THAT!" I screamed, and then turned and fled from the room.

Hurtling out into the hallway of the Ministry, I knew that he'd be on my heels in no time, so I darted off down a corridor that I had never used before. I hoped that he would follow the path I walked every time I came to the Ministry; it would buy me some time alone before I would have to face him and his arrogance again. As I turned a corner, a thought struck me and I changed my face, becoming a girl who looked a bit older than nine, with curly red hair and a smattering of freckles. A stern-faced witch exiting a door to my left gave me an appraising look that I returned with a polite smile; at the next corner I shifted again, this time to a waifish blond.

I continued in this fashion, changing my appearance after every encounter with another person and randomly turning corners or climbing stairs, until I was thoroughly lost. But I had accomplished my objective; there was no indication of any pursuit whatsoever. In fact, the entire wing in which I found myself seemed deserted; there were only long, dusty hallways with locked doors. I tried several, wishing that I was old enough for my own wand, but not one would budge until I got to the end of one hall. The door there opened easily to reveal a lift, and my curiosity got the better of me. Slipping inside, I pulled the door shut and after studying the panel for a moment I sent the lift descending to the very bowels of the Ministry.

It was an extremely stupid thing to do.

When I reached the bottom, the door shuddered open to reveal a dim hallway, lit by glass globes that were enchanted to glow. But the spells seemed to be wearing out, for they flickered fitfully and only gave off a smoky, orangish light that didn't really do much to illuminate the hall. It was chilly, the cold seeming to radiate off of the stone walls and floors as I crept out of the lift, and I thought ruefully about the cloak I had left in my classroom. But it did me no good there, and I had no idea where the classroom was anyway, so I tiptoed on, wrapping my arms tight around myself to try and stay warm.

The passageway seemed to curve to the right in a gentle arc, and gradually the air warmed a bit as well. Before long I could see a light ahead and hear voices speaking in formal tones, and I paused, considering. On the one hand, I wasn't ready to go back just yet, even if I did realize that it would happen sooner or later. On the other hand, I was as curious as ever, and what I was hearing sounded very important. So after a couple of minutes of chewing on my lower lip, I decided to darken my skin tone as much as possible and to allow my hair to go to its natural tone. Thus camouflaged, I snuck down the dim hallway, seeking the source of the voices.

The hallway ended with a door, and I edged over to it with trepidation. It wasn't latched, and a there was a thin, glowing crack from floor to ceiling where it stood ajar, allowing the light from the room beyond to slip in. So I snuck up to it, and peeked in the room.

It was huge; a great amphitheater with numerous witches and wizards seated on the stone benches, all of their grave faces turned to a small group of people at the bottom, only about twenty feet away from me. Two of the men were dark and swarthy, and so alike that I thought they were surely related. One boy was young, not much older than Sirius, and he appeared to be terrified, repeatedly crying his innocence. But the one who drew my eye was the woman. Though she was bound like the others, she made it seem as though she wore the tethers of her own accord, like they were fashionable. She owned that room, the way a good actor will own a stage, and her voice rang out in challenge to the assemblage above her as, I suddenly realized, she was being sentenced.

It was at that point that I recognized who the woman was. She was my estranged aunt, Bellatrix.

To say that I was astonished would be an enormous understatement. I was still having trouble coming to grips with the apparent fact that Sirius had been one of the bad people he had warned me of, and here I had a new example of the sins of my family. She laughed at the inarticulate growl coming from the amphitheater, obviously enjoying the attention and unafraid of the fate awaiting her. She seemed proud to be in those chains, if you can imagine. Honestly, I don't think that Bellatrix was entirely sane even before she went into Azkaban. Of course, if I had committed all the atrocities that she had, I don't imagine that I would be right in the head either.

All of a sudden, I realized that the prisoners were being taken away. Worse, they were coming right toward the door I was hiding behind. But the worst of all was what was escorting them out.

I had never seen a Dementor before, although growing up in a wizarding household I had heard of them. But they were beyond my ken; even had Mum not kept me so isolated from current events I still doubt that I would have been prepared for them. After all, who is ever really ready to face their darkest fears? But in the state I was already in, seeing them was like seeing the jaws of Hell gaping open to swallow me; I took one look, and ran like an animal.

Once again I raced to the lift, but this time instead of finding it deserted, there were half a dozen tough-looking wizards standing around the door. One caught sight of me barreling full-tilt down the hall, and before I knew it, I was hanging in midair, unable to twitch. Yup, that was my first encounter with Aurors.

It took nearly half an hour before they were satisfied that I was not a threat, and they might have kept at it longer had Sully not finally shown up and claimed me. I won't bother going into what they did to me- it was terribly unpleasant, and I deserved every bit of it. Imagine the fright that I must have given them, in the aftermath of the war with You-Know-Who and the recent atrocities that had been committed upon the Longbottoms! Of course, I had no knowledge of that then, but I understand now how very on edge they must have been. And as I said, it was extremely stupid for me to have been there in the first place. If it had been the Dementors who found me, and not the Aurors...well, I guess that they would have accounted me an on-the-job bonus, and asked no questions. Believe me, I'm thankful for the interrogation.

I was feeling a little woozy, since on top of everything else, I had been forced to take some of the NullMorph potion to prove to the Aurors that I was who I was supposed to be. I had apparently disrupted everything, including holding up the prisoner transfer, and just as Sully was finally getting me calmed down a chill rose in the hallway, and I nearly began crying all over again. Instead I shrank back against Sully, who put one arm protectively around me as the small group of Dementors glided into view along that curving passageway, escorting their prisoners to Azkaban. As they passed us, I heard the rich, lazy voice of my aunt filling the air. "What have we here?"

I couldn't help myself; I looked right into her black eyes. Almost hooded in appearance, there was a thinly veiled brutality in them that was absolutely repulsive and yet captivating, in the way a snake will hypnotize a rabbit. She paused to examine me like I was an insect, and she was debating the merits of stepping on me versus keeping me in a jar, and for all I know, that could have been exactly what she was considering. With those dark eyes weighing me, she chortled threateningly. "You look like a Black," she said, and I felt Sully's arm tighten around me.

"What the hell are you fools waiting for?" he growled. "Take these wretches out of here!"

Startled, the Aurors took charge and directed the Dementors to prod the stalled procession back into motion down the hall. Bellatrix tossed one more contemptuous stare in my direction, and then threw her head back and laughed wildly as they were herded into the lift, the sound being cut off with a loud clang as the metal doors shut. I watched them go, continuing to stare even after the lift had gone, with a hollow feeling growing inside of me until Sully gave me a little shake.

"Are you okay?" His voice was gruff, but even then I could tell that he was genuinely concerned about me. Unfortunately for me, I was unable to be receptive to his compassion.

"I...I want to go home," I choked out, trying very hard not to burst into tears, and began to shake uncontrollably. Sully sighed once, and then stooped to pick me up, carrying me all the way up to the main entrance hall of the Ministry. It was still too early for Mum to be there, and so Sully sat me down on a bench and pulled a foil-wrapped parcel from his pocket. Peeling a corner of the wrapper back, he offered it to me.

"Eat this; it'll make you feel better," he told me, and I silently did as instructed, although I doubted that anything would make me feel better ever again. You know what being around Dementors will do to you. I was still trembling badly, but I managed to get some of the chocolate down, and was surprised when almost immediately my physical reactions eased. But the experience was still strong in my mind, especially Aunt Bella's comment: You look like a Black.

Sully kept a close eye on me while we waited, although I didn't speak any more that afternoon. I stood by mutely when Mum came to pick me up, not interjecting a word as Sully explained the entire chain of events to her. She started to get angry, and actually raised her voice when he told her about my run-in with Bellatrix, but he cut her off.

"If you hadn't isolated her to the point where she doesn't know up from down in this whole sordid affair... how do you ever expect her to deal with this?"

"There's plenty of time for that when she's older," Mum snapped at him, her face livid with fury.

"Look at her!" he demanded, and for all of Mum's righteous anger, it was clear that Sully was the one in control. He pointed a stiff finger at me, and Mum really looked at me for the first time in ages. "She is hurting now. She needs to understand now."

Mum drew herself up frostily, but I could tell that she was shaken. "You have no business-" she began, but he interrupted her again.

"It becomes my business when she has a breakdown in my class, which leads her to run away and nearly cause herself injury. Mrs. Tonks, I have no desire to intrude on your family issues, but this must be addressed, and if you will not, rest assured that I will. Because it is my job to see that your daughter becomes a healthy, moral addition to her society, and I cannot help her in any way when she is in this state."

Mum was speechless, and gaped at him for a moment before snatching me by the wrist. "Good day, Mr. Sullivan," she told him with a glacier-like calm, and then nearly pulled me off my feet as she hurried me to one of the fireplaces, and from there to home.

To Mum's credit, she really did try that night to explain everything to me. But I was really not quite right just then, still being terribly upset over, um...well everything. As far as I could see, nothing in my life made any sense whatsoever; it was all a nightmare. I listened to her numbly as she stammered and faltered through years of denial and omissions, and scarcely took in a word of it. Well, more like part of my mind was listening, but the other parts were all caught up in my own dark thoughts.

Sirius, Bellatrix...one who I thought was wonderful, and who turned out to be a lying murderer- or so I thought at the time- and one who had been little more than a silhouette in my life, now filled in with frightening clarity. She was terrifying, but so powerful, and between the two of them and my Mum's halting explanations, I found my own identity brought into question. Bellatrix' comment about my Black family resemblance, so casually offered, had hit a ripe target in me that afternoon, and a foul seed was taking root as I listened to Mum rationalizing her split with her family, and their insistence upon purity and solidarity with other elite families. After a while she realized that I was only staring at her moronically, and she sighed and rose from the kitchen table where we were seated.

Leaning over to kiss me on the top of my head, she said, "Go to bed, sweetheart. It's getting late, and you've had a lot to deal with today. We'll talk more tomorrow."

I trudged up to my bed then, but I just lay there running events over and over in my mind until the wee hours of the morning, when I finally slept from sheer exhaustion.