Promises Remembered

Promises Remembered

The Sequel to Promises Unbroken

Chapter Thirty-Six: In Fires Forged

September 24^th.

The last day.

Tonks could not help smiling. For almost four months she had worked for this day, had sweated and bled and fought for it. Often, she'd thought that the end would never come--even in the midst of their final tests this moment had seemed ages away. Now, though, they were there; nineteen members of Auror Candidate Class 4904 had made it. Within an hour, they'd be chosen by Mentors, and the final stage of their journey would begin.

Dana grabbed her elbow. "I can hardly believe that we're here," she whispered.

Tonks' grin grew. "Me neither."

The candidates stood clumped together on Training Field 2, with their backs to the lake. Facing them were the active Aurors, though Tonks only counted eighteen of them to the candidates nineteen--did that mean that someone would not receive a Mentor? Tonks swallowed and suddenly didn't feel like smiling any more. There should have been twenty candidates, and would have been had not Alexander Fisher chosen to leave on the very eve of the end of their training. He had no heart left for the war, he had said, and despite everyone's attempts to convince him otherwise, Alexander had left. He'd willingly submitted to a stringent memory charm in order to keep Avalon's location and purpose hidden, but Tonks did not know where he'd run to. All she knew was that he was gone, and Class 4904 was still reeling from his departure.

It had been hardest on June, she knew. June Whitenack had been closest to Alexander out of everyone, so close that the other candidates had began to wonder what might happen between the two after their training was complete. Now, though, Oscar Whitenack's younger sister was distant and distracted, torn between being betrayed and worried. Alexander had left without a word--one morning, he'd simply turned up missing, and no one had known that he'd left until Hestia Jones revealed that he'd come to her during the night to say that he was leaving the Aurors forever.

Dana elbowed her. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah." Tonks jerked out of her reverie. "I was just thinking."

"You were far, far away," her friend replied. "Rather like Cornelia has been this morning."

"No kidding," Tonks breathed. Another mystery, that. Cornelia had disappeared the evening before, and even the instructors did not seem to know why. Unlike Alexander, she'd returned just as midnight struck, seeming shaken but in good health. She'd also been very quiet and had stayed in a thoughtful reverie throughout breakfast, not speaking to anyone unless asked a direct question. Now, though, Tonks could see Cornelia standing between Horace and Jason, smiling slightly at some egotistical comment Jason had made.

They were a strange group, the candidates of section four, but they'd come together over time. While Jason would undoubtedly remain arrogant, overconfident, and slightly self-centered, he'd come down from his earlier superiority and had worked hard to graduate first in their class. Cornelia had probably changed the most, transforming from a dignified, quiet, and traditional member the Fourteen Families to a creative and open-minded Auror. She still managed to project the natural grace and self-assurance that Tonks could only wish she possessed, but Cornelia had become one of their own. Horace, too, had grown more confident--his time on Avalon seemed to free him from the weight that being a Muggleborn Slytherin had placed upon his shoulders. He was still downright sneaky, of course, but sneaky was a good quality in an Auror, and he'd snuck up to graduate second in their class, squeaking through only a handful of points ahead of June Whitenack and Alain Brittingham. Dana had probably changed the least--she was still light-hearted, hard working, and entirely too bold--but she had somehow become the residential risk-taker in their section, which perfectly balanced out Cornelia's caution and Horace's subtlety.

Yet they had become close somehow. Oh, Jason still drove everyone save Cornelia crazy (and Tonks suspected that he actually irked the calm and beautiful ex-Slytherin more than the others on occasion), but they were a team. They could, and would, stand side by side no matter what came. Stress, pain, and pressure had forged bonds deeper than Tonks had spent seven years at Hogwarts building with her former classmates. Those had been mere friends. Her fellow candidates were something more.

A sudden hush fell over the crowd of assembled candidates and Aurors, making Tonks look up. Sirius Black had stepped forward, his dark blue robes swirling around him in the slight wind. He cleared his throat, but there was no need to. Everyone was already staring.

"You are now all Aurors," he said quietly. "We care not for your origins, for your family, for your friends or for your past. Old loyalties have no place here; there are no divisions between former Houses or heritage. You are all equal. You are all Aurors.

"One tenth of one percent of the Wizarding World chooses to take the path you have embarked upon. You would not be here if you were not the best. You are the few who choose to become the barrier between dark and light. You have chosen a hard path that will seldom reward you with anything greater than death. Beside me"--he gestured at the side of the Library, and names slowly faded into existence on the wall to his right--"is the Wall of Remembrance. Engraved upon it are the names of those who have come before you and fallen in defense against the dark. Few will ever understand the choice you have made, save all those who have stood in this field as you are standing now."

Tonks had never seen those names before, had never even known they were there. Suddenly, though, she realized that this was the final symbol. It had begun.

"If statistics are anything to go by," Sirius continued evenly, "many of you will die. But if tradition is anything to go by, you will do so bravely, and perhaps most importantly of all, you will make a difference. Once you leave this place, many will claim that your actions are meaningless. That the war isn't worth fighting. But these names prove the lie in those words. If nothing else, honor their sacrifices. Carry on where they could not, and become the next generation in a long line of Aurors.

"Since the days of the Roman Empire, Aurors have guarded the innocents amongst Wizarding kind. We have held the line, and defeated the forces of darkness even when they stood at their strongest. Today, you will step forward and assume those responsibilities by the side of your Mentor."

Slowly, he withdrew a scroll from inside his robes, and the candidates held their breath in anticipation. Tonks felt a shiver run down her spine--this was it. She was about to find out who she would spend up to the next year fighting beside, learning from, and emulating. Please don't let it be Jones, she thought desperately. I'd gorge my own eyes out with a teacup if I had to spend another year around her! Tonks almost laughed at her own thought. She respected Hestia Jones mightily, but the younger woman was certain they'd clash personality wise. Jones was simply too...conventional. That, and she'd already tried to call Tonks Nymphadora once.

"Clearwater, Jason." As Sirius spoke, Hestia Jones stepped forward, much to Tonks' delight. She would be a perfect match for Jason--acid enough to poke holes in his ego, and so sharp that even Jason would have problems keeping up. Even more importantly, her being assigned to Jason indicated that Tonks wouldn't be getting Jones, and that was just fine with her!

Jones shook hands with Jason, and they moved off to the side together.

"Smeltings, Horace." Jessica Avery stepped up, and Tonks slapped Horace on the shoulder as he walked past, grinning. On the surface, those two seemed an interesting combination: the sister of a deceased Death Eater and the only Muggleborn Slytherin in living memory simply didn't match, but Tonks knew they were much alike. More Slytherins than she would have thought joined the Aurors, and those two were of a kind.

"Whitenack, June." The lithe blond bounded forward to meet her Mentor, and Adam Macmillan almost dwarfed her small size. Macmillan wasn't especially tall, of course, but June managed to be five feet tall on a good day--if she was wearing thick soled boots. But Macmillan grinned upon receiving her, and the pair joined the others between the schoolhouse and the lake.

"Brittingham, Alain." Tonks' onetime boyfriend joined Mucia Coleman to the left, and she tried to smile for him when he caught her eye. They hadn't ever been serious, but he was a good man--she only wished that he'd move off to the side faster. The entire process was taking too long.

"Binns, Gabriel." Kingsley Shacklebolt met the great grandson of Hogwarts' most boring (and most dead) professor, making many of the candidates frown jealously. Shacklebolt was everyone's second favorite instructor, and if he was taken--

"Tonks, Nymphadora." Much to her delight, Bill Weasley stepped forward at the same moment she did, and Tonks heard Dana whisper "Lucky you!" to her back. Weasley was everyone's favorite instructor, with the possible exception of Jason, who insisted that the girls only liked him because of his looks. While Tonks couldn't deny that Weasley was good looking, she certainly didn't think that had any bearing on his teaching abilities. Besides, she wasn't the one who'd gone on for an entire hour about how wonderful his eyes were, and she ignored the rest of whatever Dana was muttering behind her.

Weasley held out a hand, but Tonks managed to trip over her own feet even as she reached for it. He ended up catching her as the other candidates snickered, and Tonks felt her face flush when even Sirius chuckled. "Thanks," she muttered.

"You're most welcome, Ms. Tonks," Weasley chuckled softly, but somehow she didn't think it was at her expense. Not entirely, anyway. "Or do you prefer Nymphadora?"

"Most definitely not!" she retorted quickly, then blushed again. "I mean, Tonks is fine. Is great."

"Tonks it is." He chuckled again, and tugged on her arm, pulling her off to the side. "C'mon."

They joined the others, and Tonks felt her racing heart calm down a little. She'd made it. Training was over--aside from Mentorship, and she'd been assigned to the one Mentor she would have wanted the most. If she hadn't managed to trip over her own feet, it would have been a perfect day...but then again, she always managed to trip over something, so this probably was about as perfect as it got.

The rest of the assignments seemed to move faster than the first five, but maybe that was just because she didn't have to wait any more. Lunch was next, and then they'd move out into the real world. Suddenly, she couldn't wait to leave Avalon again. The candidates had only been on the island for three and a half months, but it felt like forever. Maybe that was because they'd all changed so much.

Still, watching the others was interesting. Cornelia ended up with Frank Longbottom, who was still studying everyone carefully, as if he was looking for one last mistake to point out. Coincidentally, Alice Longbottom chose the remaining member of section four, and Tonks saw Dana's grin when she realized that she was paired with the number two Auror in the division. The oddest pair of all, however, was probably Oscar Whitenack and the obnoxious Calvin Waters, whom Tonks could not stand. From what she'd seen, the elder Whitenack was just like his younger sister, upbeat and thoughtful, instead of loud, reckless, and irritating like Calvin. I'm surprised anyone wants Calvin, Tonks thought to herself. Whitenack must be nice to have accepted him.

When Simon Edgecombe's turn rolled around, though, a murmur of surprise ran through the crowd. He, too, was chosen by Kingsley Shacklebolt, and shortly after that, Francine Hoyt picked up a second student as well. Everyone had expected one Mentor to be doubled up (there simply weren't enough to go around if someone didn't), but no one had expected two. Except for Tonks, and she wasn't at all surprised that her cousin chose not to mentor someone. If anyone had reason not to, it was Sirius Black.

He rolled the scroll up and grinned, suddenly pointing his wand at it with a flourish. "I spoke of tradition today," he said. "Yet there is another, less grim, one that must be observed."

"Incendio!"

Even as he spoke, Sirius threw the scroll high in the air, and everyone stared as the jet of red light struck it and the paper burst into brilliant flames. After a moment, cheering broke out amongst the former candidates, and Tonks saw several full Aurors grinning, too.

"It is done," their leader announced. "Congratulations to all Mentors and students for reaching this point. I will not impress upon you the importance of the duties and responsibilities you now face--each of you knows them too well. I will, however, impress upon you the importance of getting to lunch while it's still warm."

They laughed together, the thirty-eight old and new Aurors. Later, Tonks would realize that somehow that moment had cemented things. For the first time, they were a team, and they would stand together until the end. As Sirius had said, they were the wall between darkness and light. They were too few for the job, for the most part too young, too new, and too inexperienced, but they would try. Live or die, they would try.

--------------

This was the third day in a row Remus had chosen not to eat lunch with his students in the Great Hall. Usually, he did so, despite the fact that he could have just as easily had food delivered to his office, his chambers, or to wherever he chose. However, there were some moments when even a headmaster simply had to be alone, and this was one of them.

Sirius walking. Alone.

The visions were increasing in frequency if not in clarity. Dumbledore's scant notes on the Font had hinted that this might happen if he became worried or upset, but Remus had not expected it to be like this. It was almost as if the Font was trying to help him sort out his problems, but did not know how. It was feeding him information at an amazing rate, but the flow made no sense. One moment, he'd see Sirius alone, and the next Remus was there, along with James and Peter. Then his visions would take another leap, and he'd see the dead and dying or simply Hogwarts surrounded by Dementors and darkness. He could no longer differentiate between what had been, what might be, and what would be--there had to be some trick to it, but Remus had no idea how.

He only knew that a cold knot formed in his stomach every time he saw Sirius walking across a windswept field alone. That was the most prevalent vision, the most clear. And it was the same frightened feeling that he felt every time he looked at his old friend and read the change in his eyes, the darkness in his soul. Remus didn't want to ask what was happening, but he feared it.

Closing his eyes, the headmaster let out a deep breath. Sooner or later, he'd have to mention his concerns to someone, but he had a feeling that Sirius wasn't the one to talk to. I'll go to James first, he decided abruptly. James and Peter. It's best that we take this to him together--

Thunder rolling over an island that Remus had never seen before.

Dark shapes soaring across rough waters.

Figures running along the beach. Spells firing into the too-early night.

Sirius stepping forward, shouting to someone--

Remus blinked, but doing so only changed the visions. A face flashed before his eyes, too quickly to recognize but dwelling long enough that he could sense something tainted about it. Something evil--

Howling.

Snap.

"Are you mad? Take the offer while you still can!"

Tight faced and pale, James shook his head. "No."

"This is our only chance!" Fudge screeched. "How many more have to die before--"

"I will not surrender."

But there was turmoil in his hazel eyes...

Remus jerked out of the visions, gasping for air. Had his worry for Sirius given the Font such power over him? Dumbledore's notes had never mentioned such a loss of control, but Remus was close to losing it. Every time the Font swept him away, he took longer and longer to come back, and even Fawkes was no longer helping. Once, the phoenix would have pulled him free, but now...Remus swallowed. What has changed? Does he no longer trust me?

Resisting the urge to bite his lip, the headmaster turned to look at Fawkes. His bond with the bird had deepened past the need for normal speech, but sometimes...sometimes he wondered. Fawkes had been Dumbledore's companion, then had bequeathed himself to Dumbledore's successor at Hogwarts, but their relationship was not the same. Once, Remus had thought it might be, but lately the bond had become more brittle. There was a degree of coldness in it now that had never existed before, and that frightened Remus. Bearing responsibility for the Font's power and the burden of protecting Hogwarts had stretched him close to breaking, and if Fawkes abandoned him, Remus knew he would be lost.

And that's it, isn't it? he suddenly asked himself as the pieces started falling into place.

The war had done more than stretch Remus to his limits; it had isolated him from his friends. For years, they had been living separate lives, but they had always found moments to be together--especially before they knew that Sirius was alive. After his miraculous appearance, the Marauders had become even closer; they had needed one another then more than ever. Now, though, their work was tearing them in separate directions. James was struggling to hold the government together, Sirius had isolated himself on Avalon, and Peter was still traveling from country to country in a futile effort make everyone else see that Voldemort was the world's problem, not just Britain's. The problem with that, however, was that Voldemort had concentrated his atrocities, wisely taking one step at a time and, except for isolated incidents, not provoking outsiders. They feared him, but each nation tried to hide, hoping that if they kept their heads down, they might somehow avoid notice.

Is that what we're doing? Remus bit his lip, and turned the thought over in his mind. He wasn't precisely lonely--he was surrounded by friends and colleagues--but he did feel as if a part of himself was missing. How long had it been since the Marauders had been together? He couldn't count the days off hand, but he knew that it had been too long.

He glanced at Fawkes, and the phoenix stared back at him with bright eyes. Sad eyes. Were those tears that Remus saw, or was he imagining things? Slowly, he rose and walked over to where Fawkes perched on the back of a burgundy armchair he'd inherited from Dumbledore.

"What are you trying to tell me?" he asked quietly, reaching out to touch the brilliantly colored feathers. Fawkes leaned into his touch, but remained quiet, only staring at Remus with those sad eyes.

"Is it that we're drifting apart?" Remus whispered. "Only slightly...but does it matter? Is that why you won't reform the Circle?"

The guess had been a shot in the dark, but Fawkes looked away. There was something...but no. Remus was close, but not close enough. Sighing, he sank down into the armchair. He looked up at the phoenix pleadingly. "Then why?"

Fawkes only stared back, and Remus wished that the bird could talk. All he knew, all he could be sure of, was that something was wrong, and his friends were a part of it. An important part. Yet something was missing, and he could not tell what. There had to be a logical reason behind this. Suddenly, a lump formed in Remus' throat, but he could not voice the next question. He could not bear to, especially if the answer was yes. Is it Sirius?

His appointment with James and Peter, he decided, would have to come just a little bit earlier than anticipated.

--------------

"It's not like them to be late," Lily commented quietly, struggling not to bite her lip. It was hard to appear calm, but she had to. She was the leader of the Unicorn Group, and if she started pacing around the room like she wanted to, the others would recognize the sick feeling she had in the pit of her stomach.

"I could try Fire Calling them again," Molly said quickly. Too quickly. She was worried, too.

Evidentially, Lily wasn't the only one feeling the pressure. Auriga Sinistra was chewing on her nails, Molly was knitting some maroon sweater-shaped object furiously, Jack Pieters was reading page 699 of Government and Bloodshed: A Political Comparison in the Modern Magical World for the twelfth time, and Ted Tonks was halfway through the bowl of carrots that he'd only started eating ten minutes earlier. Even Jason Montague couldn't concentrate on the card game he'd been playing--every few seconds, he would glance up at the (Muggle) clock on the wall and frown. For her part, Lily was just trying not to fidget, but it was impossible to hide how long she'd been staring at that same clock.

Thirty-five minutes, to be exact, and she was beyond worrying.

Nicholas Flamel might have been eccentric, unpredictable, and possessing a strange and sometimes low sense of humor, but he was nothing if not punctual. He and Perenelle were, in fact, usually the first or second to arrive for Unicorn Group meetings, but not today. Today, even the usually-last and almost late Auriga had beaten the Flamels to the small Muggle house that the Unicorn Group called home, even though she'd scraped in just seconds before the meeting was scheduled to take place. Everyone had laughed when they'd realized that the Flamels were late, but time kept ticking by.

The worst part was waiting. Fire Calls to Stone Grove went unanswered, even by a house elf. There was simply...nothing. Emptiness. Even a Messenger Spell had come flying back in Lily's face without result.

She bit her lip, and tried to come up with a logical reason for the Flamels to be late. It didn't work.

Thus, the entire group breathed a huge sigh of relief when Perenelle Apparated right into the center of the room, missing the table (which Ted had moved to the left earlier by running into it) by mere inches. The older woman staggered, however, almost collapsing into Auriga's lap before catching herself. By then, everyone had gotten a good look at her pale and bruised face, and they knew that their relief had been premature.

"What happened?" Jack demanded even as Lily shot to her feet.

"Where's Nicholas?" she asked breathlessly, dreading the worst.

"Gone," Perenelle whispered hoarsely, and Auriga shot to her feet and helped the old witch into a chair. Never before had Perenelle looked every bit of her five-plus centuries of age, but she looked positively ancient now. "They...the Death Eaters"--she sucked in a ragged breath and calmed herself--"They've destroyed Stone Grove. I was caught under rubble..."

She blinked away tears and shook her head angrily. "I think they thought I was dead," Perenelle continued more levelly. "But Nicholas was gone."

"Perenelle, I'm so sorry..." Auriga wrapped her arms around the older woman, and the others closed in around her, offering support in any way they could. None of them could really understand what it was like to lose a man whom you had lived with for the better part of five centuries, but they all had known loss. And one common desire burned in every heart of those present: revenge.

They were going to get him back, no matter what the cost.

--------------

"It's about time," Bellatrix remarked acidly, turning to glare at him as he walked into the door, allowing his small knot of followers to bring the bundle in behind him. They quailed. He didn't.

"About time for what?" Severus retorted, arching an eyebrow at the darkly beautiful cousin of Sirius Black. Her lips curled up in a snarl.

"About time you arrived, pet," she snapped. "We've been awaiting you."

"You are not my Master, and any favors I do for you, I do by his bidding," Severus reminded her coldly. "I have delivered your guest. May I assume you will be transporting him to Azkaban yourself, or do you need assistance?"

"I am perfectly capable of taking one old man to Azkaban!"

"Of course you are," he purred, rejoicing in the fact that he'd gotten under her sink. Bellatrix had always been so superior, so arrogant, that it felt good to do so. He was no underling of hers, no minor Death Eater to cower the way his five companions were doing. They were the newest of the fold, of course, thoroughly cowed by the Severus Snapes and Bellatrix Lestranges of the world. But he was another matter, even with her.

"You're one to speak, pet," she snapped pointedly.

He sneered. "That is the second time you have attempted to insult me by using an ill-placed term of endearment, Bellatrix," Snape retorted smoothly. "If I did not know better, I would think you were less than satisfied with your marriage."

Not like you'd turn to me for that purpose, anyway. But Rodolphus bristled anyway, and Bella's blue eyes flashed.

"You would only hope," she shot back, rather juvenilely, in Snape's opinion. He laughed, turning to his new recruits.

"Put him over there."

Quickly, they moved to comply, and Severus couldn't help noticing the difference between the Blackwood twins. While Martha seemed to relish her newfound power, even over an unconscious and helpless old man, Osborne seemed less enthused. Perhaps he simply didn't want to dirty his hands.

"Ignore me all you want, Severus," Bellatrix purred, her composure regained. "I am not the Dark Lord's golden child, to be protected at all costs."

Despite himself, he bristled. He had always hated the implication that he might ever need protecting, but she was almost right. Almost. "You know the reasons for that."

"Oh, of course. The debt he owes you for saving his life." She chuckled, opening her eyes wide and innocently. "But I wonder what other reasons there might be...?"

The poor fool. She'd left him an opening. Severus sneered.

"Unlike you, Bellatrix, I do not prosper by whoring myself. Nor would I enjoy such a...pastime."

The glasses on the far right shelf exploded as she screeched in fury, and the couch burst into flames. "GET OUT!"

"Gladly," he replied, and offered her a mocking bow. Snape had never particularly liked the old Riddle House, anyway.

--------------

Traditionally, they held this lunch. Every class had done it, no matter where they were trained. Just this one time, this one last time, the class of 4904 would share a meal, and although this meal was different from its predecessors in many ways, it was also much the same. Students sat separate from the Mentors for what might be the last time in months--for the time was coming that they would live, sleep, eat, and breathe in close proximity to their Mentor--joking with friends and trying to recover from their semi-numbed states of shock. They had passed the final hurdle. They were sitting in the Auror's hall, no longer eating like separated trainees. And the others welcomed them as brothers and sisters in a battle that they still might not win.

Tonks glanced around the smallish room. "Hall" wasn't quite an appropriate term for the place; it was sufficiently grand, with high white ceilings and pillars lining the walls, but there was little resemblance to the great halls in castles of old. This room was too small, too cramped, too...personal. She liked it.

"Excited, Jason?" she asked lightly, turning to her left. Somehow, she'd ended up next to Clearwater, and while she didn't know how, it was nice to see that section four could stand together one last time.

Something dark glittered in his eyes, but he smiled. "Yes." Very precisely, Jason set his fork down. "I am."

"Are you alright?" Dana asked from across from Tonks; she was always the perceptive one, tuned into others' feelings and acting as the glue that held section four together.

"I'm fine," Jason replied. "I'd just like to stop wasting time and get on with training."

The others frowned, and Cornelia spoke, shaking her dark hair out of her eyes. "Jason, it's just lunch."

He forced a smile. "I know. It's just..." He shrugged, trailing off. Surprisingly, Horace finished the sentence for him.

"Your family," the other Auror said quietly. "You want to avenge them."

"Is there something wrong with that?" Jason demanded, his eyes flashing.

"No," Horace replied hesitantly, clearly warring between stating his beliefs and understanding a friends' pain.

"And yes," Cornelia added softly. "You can't let this rule you, Jason."

Clearwater snorted. "What do you know about pain?"

Cornelia's eyes narrowed, but she only sighed. "I won't argue with you."

"Besides, revenge is not what Aurors are about," Tonks added after a moment, searching for the right words, but unable to find them. "We protect people, not..."

"Like my family. Who was there for them?"

Thankfully, as angry as he was, Jason had not shouted. Still, heads at nearby tables turned, but everyone looked away quickly enough. They understood like no one else would, and the Aurors carried with them a collective guilt for not saving the Clearwaters. No one knew what more they could have done, but something...something could have changed things, and then Jason would not have become the vengeful monster he seemed poised on the edge of becoming. Yet...he wasn't. Not a monster, anyway. Not yet.

Tonks swallowed, hating herself for even thinking the thought. Jason might be arrogant, bold, and obnoxious, but he believes in the same things we do, she reminded herself. And he's been hurt greatly. It's only natural for him to want revenge.

Yet another thought nagged at the corner of her mind, and Tonks remembered her cousin's earlier words. "We have held the line, and defeated the forces of darkness even when they stood at their strongest." Without meaning to, her eyes traveled to look at Sirius, and the question rose unbidden in her mind. Can we continue to hold that darkness at bay if we become what they are? Jason, she was sure, would not cross that line. He might come close...but never across. But would someone else?

Horace's elbow dug into her side, dragging Tonks free of her darker thoughts. She shot him a quick smile, turning back to Jason as Dana spoke. "I know that we failed them, Jason," she said softly. "We, as Aurors, should have known to protect them. But we can't change the past. All we can do is make sure that no one else suffers as you have, and no more innocent families die."

"Fat chance," Calvin Waters mumbled from down the table, eavesdropping as usual. They ignored him as Jason sighed, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly.

"I know that killing Death Eaters won't bring them back," he admitted grudgingly. "I just want closure. I want this to end." Danger rose in his eyes. "And I want to protect my sister from the same fate."

Dana reached across the table to lay a hand on his arm. "And you won't have to do so alone. We--"

Clink. Clink. The light sound of a spoon being tapped against the side of a wineglass silenced everyone, and Tonks looked up at the table farthest to her left. Her cousin was standing, now, and ignoring a pointed and rather angry look from Adam Macmillan. Wonder what's going on there, she thought with half a mind, distracted enough not to really care. Few noticed the look at all.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, if I might have your attention." Sirius' face twisted into an ironic smile as if he knew that he already had said attention and was simply saying the words. "We of the Aurors have never put much stock in tradition--in fact, we are usually the ones who defy convention and expectations. However, for over two thousand years, the same toast has been given to risen Aurors, and I only feel it right to do so now." Slowly and gracefully, he lifted his wineglass, and the white wine sparkled as sun poured through the skylights.

"To the light."

As one, the Aurors rose, and Tonks felt a strange power thrill behind their words. "To the light!"

Then came a noise, low and rumbling, that felt like it shook the entire villa. It sounded almost like a drum coming from the depths of the earth, pitched so low that it made Tonks' innards shake. Like the others, she glanced about herself quickly, trying to figure out where the strange noise came from--until she noticed the suddenly pale faces of both Longbottoms and Francine Hoyt. Something was wrong, and Sirius' smile had disappeared.

"There is another tradition, brothers and sisters, which the Aurors always remember," he said grimly. "And that is the result of that toast: should a traitor speak the words, we shall know." Fire burned in his blue eyes, yet his voice remained low. "And thus a traitor has."

Other faces at that far left table had gone pale, and Tonks heard her fellows murmuring in surprise. A traitor? Impossible! Yet her mind was brought back to that night she and Horace had seen someone testing the wards. Longbottom had tried to dismiss her worries, but now the pieces started falling into place. Her eyes started flashing around the room as if they had a life of their own, and Tonks' mind raced. There had to be someone--that magic had felt too real to lie. But who?

Even the senior Aurors were whispering amongst themselves--all except Sirius, who still stood at the center of the table, stone faced and cool. Slowly, the volume level began to rise, and Tonks saw former candidates casting suspicious glances at their new comrades. The sight made her want to scream, and she had to gulp back the urge to shout. This is going to drive us apart! Tonks bit her lip. Doesn't he see that now wasn't the time to raise this point? When we don't know who it might be, everyone is suspect, and--

Adam Macmillan was bristling under Sirius' gaze. "Why are you staring at me?" he demanded angrily, as pale as his comrades. To his right, Jessica Avery shot him a strange look.

"I think you know, Adam," was the soft reply.

"I--" Suddenly, Macmillan was in motion, leaping out of his chair and twisting for the door. But Sirius seemed to move at the exact same moment, bounding around the table on the other Auror's heels. His reaction had been too fast for eyes to follow, but Macmillan seemed to expect it, and threw Avery right in Sirius' path.

Tonks' cousin swore as he collided with the auburn haired Auror, but Avery twisted quickly, bouncing off of the table's edge and dropping to the floor in an obvious effort to clear Sirius' path.

Others were moving, too. Frank and Alice Longbottom had jumped to their feet, Alice shooting a stunning spell at Macmillan that missed and struck Simon Edgecombe instead. Tonks' own Mentor, Bill Weasley, jumped over Frank's chair as it sailed in his direction, dodging right around Oscar Whitenack as they both ran around the far end of the table. From the next table, Striker Williamson and Derek Dawlish both grabbed for Macmillan as he passed, but each missed by inches. Christa Gambledon came closer still, but it was Francine Hoyt's Stunner that glanced off Macmillan's left side.

Sirius was in motion again, but Macmillan was fast. Despite the stumble the Stunner caused, he was able to reach out a hand to catch himself--right in June Whitenack's blonde hair. She yelped in surprise and pain, but Macmillan had his balance by then, and dragged his future student out of her seat, twisting her around so that she shielded him from the others. Quickly, he backed up several steps, holding his wand at her throat.

"Move," he panted, "and I will kill her."

Every Auror in the hall had frozen, including their leader. Fury and worry played across every face, tightening features and exposing teeth in soundless snarls, but no one dared move. Only Sirius seemed impassively cold, and his blue eyes were focused uncannily on Macmillan.

"Do you think," he asked quietly, "that threatening her life will save your own?"

Macmillan laughed. "I know you won't sacrifice her," he sneered. "You aren't strong enough."

Sirius only raised one eyebrow, standing loosely with his hands held away from his body. Almost every eye was on him or Macmillan, but Tonks was watching June's frightened eyes. She was in control of herself, but she didn't look as if she had any hope. But why not? Tonks wanted to ask, but never got the chance. Why June did not fight back, she would never know--nor would she know what it was that Macmillan saw in Sirius' face that pushed him over the edge.

Alice Longbottom started to speak just as it began. "Adam, you--"

"Avada Kedavra!"

Someone screamed.

Green light flashed.

June crumbled.

Even before her body hit the floor, her Mentor turned and sprinted away. He had the distinct advantage of being much closer to the doors than anyone else, and Stunned Randall O'Keely when the redhead tried to jump in his way. But Randall never had a chance to act; Macmillan had the superb reflexes of veteran Auror and a strong head start. Randall had graduated at the bottom of their class and was the slowest of them all.

Sirius, however, was far faster. Even as Macmillan bolted out the doors, he rushed across the hall, with almost every other Auror on his heels. Quickly coming out of their shock, the newest Aurors followed, with many baying furiously for vengeance. Macmillan had gone beyond the pale. He'd killed one of their own, someone he'd been responsible for, and there was no question now who the traitor was. Fleetingly, Tonks wondered how Sirius had known, but perhaps it had been that angry look from Macmillan just moments before the toast. Or--she cut herself off in mid thought, racing to catch up with her classmates. Impossible.

They pounded across the grass, and Tonks quickly realized that Macmillan was heading for the Emergency Apparation Center. Would the doors admit him? She suddenly felt cold. Of course they would. They had before.

Someone was shouting furiously at Macmillan, and it took her a moment to recognize Hestia Jones' voice. For a split second, it looked as if the traitor missed a stride; he stumbled ever so slightly, but then regained balance without ever looking back. Jones cursed violently at his back, but Macmillan shouted a spell instead of replying, and the stone doors to EmergApp flew open.

Sirius was ahead of the others, but he wasn't close enough. Macmillan dove through the doors just as they started to slide shut once again, and Tonks' cousin slowed. Very calmly, he dropped to a jog and then a halt, even as all of the Aurors rushed around him to cast unlocking, unsealing, disintegration, wall crumbling, and Reductor curses at the doors. Nothing worked, and within seconds, Sirius' voice rang above their frustrated efforts.

"Let him go." The power in the words astounded her. "Let him run. And let us remember that even the best men and women can be turned."

Silence and pale faces greeted his words, and someone threw a halfhearted spell against the resisting doors in response. Surprisingly, the doors slid open without protest, but by then Macmillan was gone. Jones swore again, pain and betrayal on her face.

"Should we follow?" someone asked.

Sirius shook his head. "Not now."

"But what if he comes here?" Calvin demanded, clearly meaning someone far more powerful than Adam Macmillan.

But Sirius smiled. "Let him try."

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A few hours later, Tonks watched him crouch down inside the Emergency Apparation Center, studying the ground through distant eyes. Her mentor had been delayed by a Fire Call with his family, and she was waiting for Bill (it still felt strange to call him that) before leaving the island as an Auror. Typically, Tonks had wandered a little away from the Main Villa, mostly watching the trees, listening to the birds sing, and trying not to trip over her own two feet. She hadn't expected to see her cousin within the now-restricted EmergApp, but as she watched him, a chill ran down her spine.

"What are you doing?" she asked, somehow certain that he knew she was there.

"Searching." Sirius rose and turned to face her, walking slowly. He seemed more tired than the others, yet less angry at what Macmillan had done, and Tonks found that to be a strange combination.

"For what?"

Odd how he didn't much seem like the Sirius Black she'd remembered from childhood. That cousin had been a happy and joking man, rarely serious even after he'd become an Auror. Sometimes, however, he had proven surprisingly thoughtful, always bringing a young Tonks presents of some sort, and cheering her up after her Aunt Bellatrix and Aunt Narcissa snubbed her. He had been her hero as a child, and Tonks had chosen to become an Auror in part because of what had happened to him. She'd grown up as the runt of the Black nest, but he was the outcast, and Sirius had proven that one did not have to follow the rules to get along.

But now--now the smile was grim, and the laughter had faded. The easygoing and dashing man she had grown up admiring had become coolly handsome, and while his capabilities had not faded, his charm seemed to have. One of the things Tonks had most vividly remembered about Sirius was that he had been so alive, so real, compared to the rest of her family. Now, though, his brightness seemed to have faded, and she wondered why.

"Answers," he replied, shrugging. Sirius stepped outside of EmergApp, and gestured slightly with his wand. The doors slid shut behind him.

"Like where he ran to?" Tonks normally wouldn't have pressed, but he didn't seem to mind.

Sirius chuckled. "No. I know he went to Azkaban." His eyes darkened. "I was searching for why."

"Can you tell?" Something deep was at work there, she suddenly realized, looking into his eyes. He was as angry as the others; Sirius just faced that anger in a different manner. His once-explosive temper had been repressed and turned into...what?

"No," he said softly. "Not enough."

And how would he have been able to tell? Tonks asked herself irritably. Even a fool knew that the residual magic left over from Apparation left slight clues to the suspect's destination, but there was no way that someone could deduce intentions simply from that. Besides, only very practiced witches and wizards could pinpoint where someone had gone; even though Aurors were trained to do so, few mastered the talent. Tonks wasn't very good at it herself, but apparently her cousin was.

"Oh." She must have sounded disappointed, because he glanced at her sidelong.

"We'll find him, Tonks," Sirius said, smiling slightly. And the smile was the same, if muted somehow. "Eventually. I suspect he might even find us."

She sighed, not yet willing to contemplate the affects of having a traitorous Auror on the loose. "But that doesn't tell us why."

Sirius was silent for a long moment, and for a moment Tonks didn't even think he'd heard her. But then he spoke softly. "I fear that the answer lies in Azkaban." His eyes were distant, and something lurked behind the shadows. "And that even the best of us can break."

Break. The word hung in the air between them, and Tonks almost wondered why he had used it. There was something eerie in his tone, something regretful and knowledgeable all at the same time. Had he ever crossed that line? Tonks did not know, and doubted that she ever would. Still, Sirius had seen hell--he had looked into darkness, and had seen something. The emptiness in his eyes was not that of a normal man, and Tonks suddenly wished that she could reach out to him...or that someone would. She had been wrong to think about how much Sirius had changed. He had not changed. Sirius was changing before her eyes.

His right hand rested hesitantly on his left forearm, but Tonks was sure that he didn't realize she noticed. Instead, he nodded absently to her and swept by, heading towards the lake and away from the others.

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