Nymphadora Tonks and the Liquor of Jacmel

9. Good Auror, Bad Auror

Thursday July 30^th 1994

When Cassius Scrimgeour arrived at Auror Headquarters the following morning, Tonks was already waiting for him, feeling rather pleased with herself. She'd remembered that there were photographs of everybody who worked at the Ministry on record - she'd spent a dull fifteen minutes posing for hers on her first day - so once she'd had the clue that the woman was a worker at the Ministry, it had been relatively easy to find out who she was. A couple of hours the previous evening had been spent putting Gogol's painting to work, and she now had several photographs of the rather ordinary-looking woman that she'd seen leaving in the Floo, together with a name to attach to them.

Cassius had obviously noticed her excitement. "Hello, Tonks," he said to her in surprise. "What's the matter?"

In reply, Tonks spread the photographs on his desk. "Mrs Beatrice Easton," she said smugly. "Works part-time in the Pest Advisory Bureau. Also an occasional visitor to the Transfigured Toad, where she talks to dodgy-looking wizards in alcoves, then rushes out as if she doesn't want to be seen. Think that's worth investigating?"

Cassius studied the pictures carefully. "Does that mean you saw her when you went there the other day with young Bentley?"

"Yep."

"You're sure it was her?"

"Definite. I'm pretty good with faces. I always did study them to work how to do morphing stuff, and they trained us to be observant as well, right?"

He looked at her thoughtfully. "Very well, I'll agree with you this far; it does look a trifle suspicious. What did you have in mind?"

"Haul her in for questioning?"

Cassius smiled patiently. "We can't, Tonks. It's not against the law to go in a pub, after all. We've no idea what she was doing there. It could be something perfectly innocuous - or at any rate, nothing to do with us."

"We've always thought it was a centre for illegal trades, though, haven't we? Ben said so. And I looked the records up, we've been suspicious of that place for ages."

"We've had suspicions, yes. Had proof, no. The patrons don't exactly talk to us much. You don't know that she was buying something she shouldn't have been, and even if she was it probably has no connection to what we're working on. She could just have been - oh, I don't know, meeting her secret lover or something." He winked.

"I doubt it. I couldn't see his face properly, but from the way he walked, I'd say he was a lot younger than her."

The patient smile reappeared. "That was just an illustration, Tonks. It could be anything. We do have to be careful about what we do. Even Aurors have to have some proof before they throw accusations around."

"Oh." Tonks looked crestfallen. "So you don't think we should investigate her then?"

"I didn't say that." He paused to think. "Were there any notes on her in the Auror files? Any convictions, known bad habits, evidence of corruption in her Ministry work?"

"No, not really," said Tonks with a touch of disappointment. "There isn't any mention of her having underworld connections in the confidential records - well, other than the one I just added, anyway."

"I see. What's her background like? Job? Home life? Is there anything we know about her?"

Tonks riffled through the sheets of duplicated parchment on her desk. "She's 47, married, one grown-up child, who left home some time ago. 'Home' is in Worthing, by the way, south coast. Husband works as a broom salesman, spends a lot of time travelling around the country on business. She works three days a week doing administrative stuff for the pest advice people. Erm ... helps organise local Bring and Fly sales, little things like that. Generally seems respectable, not at all the sort of person you'd expect to see in a dubious pub near Knockturn Alley."

Cassius pondered this. "Didn't you tell Bentley that you were willing to go undercover at the Transfigured Toad and look around?"

"Well, yes, although I haven't got around to it yet, obviously ..."

"Very well, then. We may be able to kill two pixies with one curse here. If she goes in that pub again, we'll follow her. Suspicion is just enough for us to legally cast a tracer ward to alert us if she goes anywhere near it." Tonks brightened at the suggestion. "We can key it to those panic buttons, in fact. Should it activate, you get there as quickly as possible, follow her in and observe."

*****

Thursday August 6^th 1994

Tonks' optimism lasted until the weekend - the ward casting was interesting, and the Friday following, as the last day of the month, had been a red-letter day (literally so, as she had put a Colour-Changing Charm on the appropriate page of her desk calendar). Cassius observed this with polite bafflement, but Tonks didn't care; the date might not be significant to anyone else, but to her it marked the day she got her very first payslip as an Auror. She thought she might take it home and frame it.

The next week was mostly rather discouraging, though.

O'Gregan and Cornworthy dropped by her cubicle occasionally to give her a rundown on their progress in the Farley case - or to be more precise, on their lack of it. They reported that they'd been unable to find any way in which Ashford's nephew and nieces could have got to London and back from their distant locations without being missed or observed. ("There were no Floo traces for them, no sign of illegal Portkey use, and frankly I don't think they could Apparate further than the next street to save their lives," explained O'Gregan gloomily. "And none of them have any dubious contacts that we're aware of." )

Tonks asked hopefully if they'd inform her of anything of interest that turned up in their preliminary investigations of the material from Farley's interrogation, but the results there were equally negative. There was no information on the blonde woman ("Sorry, Tonks, she probably was too good to be true," said Cornworthy sadly). Arkwright the erstwhile zookeeper, now down on his luck, had said little that was repeatable when interviewed ("He made some suggestions," O'Gregan told her, "but I don't think any of them were physically possible without the use of a wand.") And although not all of Ashford's trade rivals were able to show alibis for the night of the attack, there was nothing to connect them with it either. ("I wouldn't say they actually regretted what Farley did - well, except that he didn't succeed, perhaps - but we can't find any links with him yet," said Cornworthy.) Tonks got the distinct impression that they were hoping she and Cassius might find some way to progress, approaching the case from the other end.

However, Beatrice Easton stayed away from the Transfigured Toad, which Tonks was sure could only be ascribed to sheer stubbornness. And another trip down Knockturn Alley as Mrs Anonymous produced little that was even worth a passing mention in the daily bulletin.

By the following Thursday, which was proving especially dull, she'd more or less given up any expectation of quick results. So, when the button on her desk buzzed while she was idly sitting reading a memo from Claymore, it didn't immediately register.

Cassius, doing much the same in the next cubicle, looked up. "Tonks! That's the tracer alarm!"

"What?! Oh, hell." She raced out of the office towards the lifts, with Cassius following at a more sedate pace. She cursed the defensive wards that stopped her Apparating out. As she rode down to the foyer, she was transfiguring her robes into the kind of scruffy attire necessary to fit in at the Transfigured Toad, and changing her face into that of a young man, drawing extremely curious looks from her fellow passengers.

She didn't think the new face was particularly impressive - she didn't practice male faces very often - bur she'd been forced to agree with Cassius that a strange man was far less likely to attract notice in a place like the Toad than an unaccompanied woman. ("The Metamorphmagus thing doesn't allow me to change my basic, er, anatomy," she'd explained, reddening slightly, "but I can do more or less what I like with the shape of what I've got. So I can shrink my boobs down and expand the hair follicles on the face to do a convincing stubble. And if you get the shape change right it alters your larynx, so you get the voice for free.") With any luck, long robes and a hood would hide any imperfections in her disguise. It was the sort of attire that was almost de rigeur in a place like the Toad anyway.

She Disapparated as soon as the lift reached the foyer floor and, as before, appeared just round the corner from the pub. Taking a deep breath, she strolled in through the door, looking a lot more confident than she felt, and went over to the bar. McAllister, the landlord, was there, but he gave no sign of recognition. That made her breathe slightly more easily. No reason why he should recognise me, of course. I transform better than that.

"Firewhiskey and ginger ale, a little ice," she said, in her best attempt at a gruff voice. While the barman was pouring her drink, she glanced around. Her luck was in; Beatrice Easton was sitting alone at a table in one corner, apparently waiting for someone, and looking very uncomfortable. She seemed to be attempting to be as inconspicuous as possible. It wasn't working; she was attracting a number of curious glances from other patrons, which made it easier for Tonks to observe her as well without her actions standing out from the crowd.

As Tonks watched, she saw the woman's face light up with relief. A man walked over to her table and muttered something to her; they got up and disappeared into one of the alcoves. His face was hooded, and he appeared to have some kind of scarf around the lower part, which meant that he fitted right in to his surroundings. From the little she could see, though, he might easily have been the same as the man she'd seen previously.

Tonks sipped at the Firewhiskey thoughtfully. It was obvious that she had to get closer, but how? Oh well, she decided, I'm just going to have to take the unicorn by the horn. Only way. She turned to the barman. "I'm going to wait in one of those," she said, nodding at the alcoves. "If Mickey Kerrigan comes in, tell him where I am." With that, she confidently walked over to the alcove next to the one into which Mrs Easton had disappeared (hoping fervently that there wasn't a real Mickey Kerrigan anywhere near at hand. If there was, she was going to have to do some very fast talking.)

The landlord had thoughtfully provided curtains for all the alcoves to ensure his patrons had privacy for whatever business they chose to conduct. Tonks was glad of this; as what she was going to do would look very suspicious if anyone could see her.

She took out the 'knife' that K had issued her. One of the useful little functions she'd discovered when reading the instruction book was an eavesdropping tool. She flipped out a couple of small metal studs from one of its many little enchanted compartments, placed one in her ear, then tapped the other with her wand and placed it against the alcove wall, where it adhered magically .

The voices coming from the other side of the dividing partition were indistinct. Tonks had half expected this, but that didn't make it any less annoying. There was evidently a privacy charm on the partition. She wasn't sure whether the people in the next alcove had cast it as a precaution, or if the landlord had done it for all of the alcoves as an additional service. Tonks would have put Galleons - well, Sickles anyway - on it being the latter. It was that sort of place.

The eavesdropping gadget turned out to be reasonably good at counteracting the effects of privacy charms, but not perfect, and Easton and the wizard were talking in frustratingly low voices. Tonks could make out the general tone of what they were saying, but many of the actual words were inaudible. She swore under her breath; if she hadn't rushed out so quickly, she could have brought along a dose of the Sense-Enhancing Potion.

Too late to worry about that now. She caught a reference to the payment of a fairly large sum of money for goods supplied - no surprise there - spoken by Easton in a pleading tone of voice, and something about her husband's activities while travelling from her companion, said with a definite sneer. The thing that really made her prick up her ears was a reference to 'bottles of potion' by the wizard. As far as she could tell, they were talking about something that Easton was going to be giving to her husband without his knowledge; she didn't sound convinced about it, but the wizard was replying in a tone of breezy reassurance.

Tonks was caught by surprise when she heard their footsteps leaving the alcove; the privacy charm must have blotted out the noise of them getting up from their seats. She hesitated for a moment; it was going to look extremely suspicious if she followed them out immediately, but there wasn't much else she could do. And after all, she reflected, she didn't have to come here with the same appearance ever again.

She stumbled as she left the alcove, forgetting the step and knocking into a table, which slowed her down just enough to allow her quarry to leave the pub. Cursing again, she followed them quickly, hoping that the rest of the customers were too concerned with their own affairs to be paying much attention to a stranger. Her luck held; the landlord gave her an annoyed look when she didn't straighten the table, and one or two drinkers glanced up at her with a smirk, but then returned to their own conversations.

It took a moment or two for her eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight outside the dingy pub. She couldn't see Beatrice Easton anywhere, but that wasn't a cause for concern; if everything had gone according to plan, Cassius should have been waiting outside to pick up her trail, as he knew her appearance from the photographs in the Ministry records. Tonks would follow whoever she was meeting, since Cassius wouldn't be able to recognise him if they left the pub separately.

She looked around quickly; Diagon Alley was crowded today, with many foreign-looking wizards and witches gawking at the shop windows. She spotted the man just as he turned the corner into Knockturn Alley. No surprise there, either. He was moving at quite a fair pace, glancing round casually every now and again. She pursued him as quickly as she could without being too obvious, looking round uncomfortably. Stealth and Tracking had always been her weakest subject during Auror training; although she'd somehow scraped a pass mark, it had been a close-run thing.

She followed at what was apparently a casual stroll, although making sure to keep one hand close to her wand. The wizard walked rapidly down the narrow street, slowing about a third of the way down to enter a large shop. Tonks nodded in recognition when she caught up; the sign above the window read 'Borgin & Burkes'. She watched the doorway as best she could while pretending to examine the goods in a window on the other side of the street (a dusty display of shrunken heads that looked as if it hadn't been changed in years).

She wondered if there was any way that she could manage to cast an inconspicuous Tracking Charm on the wizard as he came out. It was an interesting little spell that Aurors were taught early on in their training, which allowed them to use their wand as a pointer to show the distance and direction of their target; it came in useful occasionally, but suffered from a couple of severe disadvantages if the target saw you using it. Firstly, it was easy to cast a counter-charm on themselves. And secondly, it was hard to explain away what you were doing without getting yourself hexed.

The wizard came out of the shop about ten minutes later and turned back towards Diagon Alley, nodding at people he met, and checking shop windows. In order to remain inconspicuous, Tonks was forced to stay well back, out of effective wand aiming range, until he reached the end of Knockturn Alley; and at that point her luck ran out. The wizard looked around, and with a shrug, Disapparated.

Under her breath, Tonks muttered a number of potent words that she wouldn't be putting in her report.

*****

Cassius wasn't there when she arrived back at Auror Headquarters and slumped dejectedly into her chair. She reached for a quill and parchment and started to scribble down notes on the results, or lack thereof, of the day's activities. A paper aeroplane drifted into her in-tray, and she unfolded it listlessly. It was a printed memo from the Department of Magical Games and Sports:

Dear Miss Tonks

A formal introduction and training session for security staff at the Quidditch World Cup will take place on Wednesday 12^th August in the main Meeting Room on Level Seven. It is expected that personnel will be addressed by Bartemius Crouch of the Department of International Magical Co-operation, Albert Benedict, British/Irish Representative to the Union of European Quidditch Associations, and Senior Auror Liaison Warren Dawlish. The session commences at 10am sharp and is expected to last until approximately 4pm. Lunch will be provided. Please confirm receipt of this memorandum, and inform the Department immediately if you are unable to attend.

Tonks reached for a memo form to write a reply, then noticed a handwritten postscript. A huge grin spread across her face as she read it:

Your charming friend Rhiannon told me you were a Wasps fan. I hope this will be of some use to you!

My very best wishes to Nymphadora Tonks,

Ludo Bagman

Tonks let out of whoop of glee. Just this once, she didn't even mind the use of her full name. This was another thing she was going to take home and frame! She was still laughing happily when Cassius arrived and looked at her with curiosity.

"Did you get him then?"

Tonks sobered up (a little, anyway). "No, unfortunately. He Disapparated. How about Mrs Easton?"

"Stepped into the Floo station in Diagon Alley and went back home - I managed to get close enough to hear where she was going, but I could hardly follow her into her house without a warrant. Or something concrete to base suspicion on, at any rate. Did you learn anything useful?"

Tonks described her visit to the Transfigured Toad and the subsequent trip down Knockturn Alley briefly. "So we're not much further on, I guess," she finished. "Pity. I'd like to know what potion she was feeding her old man. You never know, it could be the one we're after."

Cassius considered this. "It would be a stroke of luck if it was ... You know, this might just be enough to work with," he said. "Perhaps we could call on her and play good Auror, bad Auror? It would be mostly bluff, of course, but you'd be surprised how often that works with people who aren't hardened villains. And I very much doubt she is, not from the way you described her behaviour."

Tonks perked up at the prospect of doing something active. "Suits me," she said. "Which of us is going to be the good Auror?"

"Me, I think," said Cassius apologetically. "I've never really been very good at playing the, erm, the 'heavy', I believe it's called." He grinned. "How about if you be, oh I don't know - the overenthusiastic, out-of-control young investigator eager for results any way you can get them? And I'll be the world-weary Auror with half an eye on retirement who just wants to make things easy? I'm sure we could do that."

Tonks smiled back. "Works for me. I'll make myself look forbidding. When shall we do it?"

Cassius pulled out the set of notes on Beatrice Easton that Tonks had duplicated for him. "Let's see ... actually, tomorrow might be as good a time as any. She doesn't work Fridays, and apparently her husband is away on business. Strike while the iron's hot?"

Tonks nodded. "It's a deal."

"Very well," said Cassius. "Meet me here tomorrow at nine, and we'll Floo straight over. I'm almost sure they have a station in Worthing, there are more wizards down on the south coast than you'd expect. Handy for the Continent." He grinned again, mischievously. "And that will give you the whole evening to practice being mean and nasty. I don't suppose it should require too much extra effort, really."

He ducked the screwed-up piece of parchment Tonks threw at him as they both burst into laughter.

*****

Tonks arrived at work early the following morning in order to look up the Ministry recommendations for travel to Worthing. It turned out that there was indeed a Floo and Portkey station there, down an obscure side street, inside a small office that the Ministry had purchased for the purpose.

By the time Cassius arrived at ten to nine she was already getting fidgety, to his great amusement. Both made sure to slip their Auror badges into their pockets, ready to be fixed onto their clothing in prominent positions once they were out of sight of any Muggles. There was no point in trying to be anonymous this time; the whole idea was for them to arrive at Beatrice Easton's door looking both official and unfriendly.

Tonks had in fact practiced being mean and nasty the previous night, and experimented with making herself look as butch as possible. She eventually settled for shortening her hair to a wiry, close-cropped style, and giving herself a squarish jaw that jutted out in the manner of the Muggle police tough guys she'd seen in her father's old rented films. Her mirror didn't do more than issue a feeble protest; in the last few weeks it had grown used to her leaving the flat in various unflattering guises. It had been pathetically grateful when she switched back to her normal look for the journey to the office.

Tonks had always found that the real trouble with travelling the Floo network was the spinning motion. Although it was a relatively short journey to Worthing, any trip longer than a short hop across town left you feeling disoriented. She was facing backwards when she stepped out of the flames at the Worthing station. As she turned to face the door she felt her foot catch on something; she tried to stop herself falling, but couldn't, and pitched forward into the room.

Of course, it was just her bad luck that there was, once again. a wizard standing nearby for her to collide with.

Bloody Hell! she raged (albeit internally). Why do they ALWAYS put raised edges on these things? It's not like they're needed to stop burning logs falling out or anything! She picked herself up, brushed off the dust from her robes and turned to apologise to the wizard, who was doing much the same thing.

Her jaw dropped. Oh great. I just love coincidences.

The wizard, who was slightly older than her, looked at her in puzzlement for a moment; then his eyes widened in sudden recognition. An older woman who had been standing behind him, out of range of Tonks' clumsiness, looked at them curiously. A slight whoosh from the fireplace announced the arrival of Cassius, who carefully stepped over the edge of the grate to join them.

The woman was clearly trying very hard to keep a straight face. She was in her forties, perhaps, but still had dark hair and a trim figure, and was smartly dressed in Muggle clothing. "Aren't you going to introduce us, Montgomery?" she said, unable to keep slight amusement from her voice. "I know girls always throw themselves at you, but I didn't realise they did it literally."

Both Tonks and the wizard reddened slightly. "Mother, this is a Miss ... Tonks, as I recall," he said, with a trace of irritation. "Do you remember me telling you once when I was at school about this wretched first-year shape-shifter who liked to mess with the heads of the prefects?" Tonks' blush deepened. "This is her, if I'm not very much mistaken."

Tonks gritted her teeth. "Yes, it's her ... er, I mean, yes it's me," she said. "It was a long time ago, though. Bygones?"

"I suppose so," said the wizard grumpily. "I'm surprised you even kept a face I could recognise. Did I get your name right?"

"Yes," said Tonks. "Nym - er, yes, Tonks was right. I'm surprised you remembered me."

"Remembered you?" said the man. "After six months of you appearing and disappearing like a demented leprechaun? I thought I was losing my mind. I nearly asked Madam Pomfrey to check my head out." Tonks winced.

"Oops. Sorry. No, I mean it," she said hastily at the look of disbelief on his face. "I was only a kid ... er, Montgomery. And I was probably ... oh, I don't know, overcompensating for being scared out of my wits half the time about whether I'd ever see my parents again?" She realised as soon as she said this that it had touched a nerve, as the faces of the wizard and his mother tightened perceptibly. Oh great. Just great. Now what? "Erm, did I put my foot in it again?"

"Yes, Miss Tonks, you did, I'm afraid to say," said the woman evenly. Now that she wasn't distracted by the need to pick herself up off the floor, Tonks noticed that her voice had a very slight accent of some kind, although it was sufficiently overlaid by conventional English as to be almost undetectable. "Your glorious career as a Hogwarts joker must have been right about the time my husband ... was killed. I don't suppose you stopped to wonder if my son had just lost his father, though, did you?"

Tonks winced again. "No, I didn't," she said, pleased to hear that her voice reflected her genuine regret. "Look, please, I'm so sorry. I didn't want to bring up bad memories for you."

"Can't be helped," said the wizard gruffly. "As you say, it's a long time ago now." He suddenly seemed to realise that Cassius was present. "I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself to your grandfather here. I'm Montgomery Hallendale, this is my mother Angelica."

Cassius came out of one of his reveries, and smiled politely. "Grandfather? Not me. Merely her colleague. I'm Cassius Scrimgeour, by the way. Very pleased to meet you both."

"That's OK," said Angelica Hallendale, smiling in return. "I hope she doesn't cause you too much trouble."

"Not at all. She's a reformed character, obviously." He chuckled; Tonks gritted her teeth and fixed a smile in place. "I hope we didn't delay your journey. It's always a little cramped in these single-grate stations."

The woman laughed. "Oh, it wouldn't have made any difference. I asked Montgomery to book a Portkey for us to go up to London on. Normally I just drive into Brighton to shop in Wizard's Row, but they don't stock much in the way of cosmetic products. And I know even Muggles can use the Floo network with the right kind of powder, but I've never much liked the idea of stepping into a fire."

"Oh, come on, it's not that bad," said Tonks, puzzled. "I know it's a bit scary when you do it the first time, but you soon get used to it. Surely your parents must have shown you how to use it when you were young?"

A twinkle appeared in Angelica's eyes. "No, young lady. To do that, they'd have needed to know how to use it themselves. And as Muggles, that would have been unlikely, wouldn't it?" She smiled at them. "I'm sure they would have been quite as alarmed by the idea as I was when Hank - my husband - first told me about it."

"Your husband told you?" asked Tonks in confusion. "You mean they didn't teach you at school either?"

"I didn't go to school, Miss Tonks," she said, laughing. "I was privately taught. And I dare say the idea would have given my teachers a heart attack as well. I never realised there was a whole magical world out there until I met Hank. And he was magical in more ways than one." She raised her eyebrows at the younger woman a couple of times.

Her son looked at her with a trace of exasperation, and his mother smiled at him.

"You mean you're a Muggle?" said Cassius with an expression of dawning comprehension on his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise. You seemed so ... comfortable with the idea of magic."

She shrugged. "It's been over thirty years, Mr Scrimgeour. I've had plenty of time to pick up the jargon. And I have two wizard sons to keep me up to date with what's going on, even if Montgomery here is making his fortune in pounds and dollars, not Galleons." She glanced affectionately at her son, who again looked slightly embarrassed at the parental praise.

"Thank you, Mother," he said firmly, checking his watch. "It's very nearly time for the Portkey to activate, so perhaps we should get ready?" He glanced around, picked up an old newspaper from a table, and handed one end to his mother, who winked at Tonks and Cassius.

"Well, it was nice talking to you, Miss Tonks, and you, Mr Scrimgeour," she said. "Oh, we never did ask. Now you've, er, reformed, what is it you do?"

Tonks couldn't resist. Her face took on a mischievous look. "Oh, it's quite a responsible job really." She took the badge from her pocket and held it up where they could see it. "We're Aurors."

She enjoyed the shocked expressions that appeared on the faces of both Hallendales a moment before the Portkey activated and they winked out of sight.

*****

The Easton home turned out to be in a pleasant residential street, where the houses were large, detached, and with an ample amount of garden; clearly a place where the reasonably well-to-do lived. There was no-one in the street when they arrived. Cassius, who was surprisingly subdued, stood well back around the corner as Tonks hid between a couple of parked cars, and surreptitiously tapped K's wizard locator compass with her wand to see if there might be any other unsuspected wizards living in the street. If there were, they were obviously out; the needle swung round and pointed straight to the Easton residence.

With the badges fixed to their robes, they strolled up to the front door, and Tonks changed into her tough face. She hammered on the old-fashioned door knocker as loudly as she could.

"All right, all right!" came a querulous voice from within. "No need to break the door down!" Mrs Easton opened the door with an annoyed look on her face, which immediately - and tellingly - fell as she took in who her visitors were.

Tonks seized the tactical advantage this gave her. "Want a little word about your shopping habits, Mrs Easton," she said brusquely, pushing past. "Let's go inside. Where's your lounge?" She strode down the hall; Beatrice Easton stumbled after her, clearly in shock. Cassius, following, quietly closed the door behind them and put a locking charm on it.

They entered a large lounge, which had been tastefully furnished in a style that only a wizard would have recognised as not being entirely Muggle. Tonks nodded to Mrs Easton and pointed at one of the chairs. "Sit down," she said curtly, which she did, with a look that was so frightened Tonks found it irresistibly comical. She managed to turn her grin into a scowl in time to keep in her role.

"Wh ... what do you want?" said Easton defensively, finding her voice. "Why are you here? I ... I haven't done anything wrong." Even she seemed to realise it was a bit late to be saying that, given the way she'd reacted so far. She swallowed

"Ought to sue your face for slander then," said Tonks gruffly. She was finding it hard to keep a straight face herself. Time to bring in Cassius. "Partner? Let's tell her what we saw yesterday, shall we?"

They briefly described their way they'd placed a tracer charm for Mrs Easton and trailed her the day before; Tonks rudely, Cassius in his usual polite manner - easy for you, mate, you don't even have to act - although they implied they'd seen and heard a lot more than they actually had. Beatrice Easton's lip started to tremble as she listened, and when Cassius described how he'd followed her to the Floo station she burst into tears.

Tonks winced. Fortunately Mrs Easton was in no fit state to pay attention to her. Fun as it was to act 'hard', she didn't especially like bullying someone who, after all, was probably not a career criminal. She glanced at Cassius, who shook his head warningly, with the clear implication: I don't like it either, but it's the job you signed up for. You have to deal with it. She turned back to the weeping woman.

"Come on now Mrs Easton. If you can give us a good explanation of what you were doing and what you were intending to give to your husband, we won't necessarily have to take this any further." This statement was blatantly untrue, of course, but was in line with the standard interrogation techniques listed in the Auror manuals. Offer them a hint that they can talk their way out of it. Let them concoct some explanation - give them enough rope to hang themselves. Then pick apart the inconsistencies in their story until you have them tied in knots. Tonks realised it was another thing she was going to have to get used to. She wouldn't have thought twice if it had been a serious villain in front of her.

"I ... I just wanted some cheap p .. potion ingredients," stammered Easton. "This ... man said he could get them at cost price. You know, er ... on import. Special offer."

"Special offer," said Tonks in a disbelieving voice. "Right."

"Well, you know ... hard to get sometimes."

"Hard to get," repeated Tonks, in the same tone. "Where from?"

"I ... I'm sorry?"

"Which ingredients? Where couldn't you find them?"

"Oh, er ... they were ..."

Cassius interrupted. "Mrs Easton," he said gently. "I don't think you're convincing my young colleague here. Or me, if it comes to that. Just tell us what you were buying."

Beatrice Easton broke down in tears again. "I was buying a Love Potion," she said in a very small voice.

Tonks and Cassius looked at each other with a mixture of astonishment and amusement. "What?!" said Tonks.

"A love potion, " said Easton with a catch in her voice. "You know how it is."

"Not really," said Tonks. "What did -"

Cassius hastily interrupted, with another warning glance at his partner: Time to try a touch of the velvet glove now. "Come now, Mrs Easton, why don't you just tell us all about it," he said to her kindly. "Get it off your chest. You'll feel better for it." Tonks, with some experience of his usual way of speaking, noticed a very slight insincerity in his tone, but she was sure their suspect wouldn't. It seemed to work, anyway.

"It's my hus - husband, Bobby," she sobbed. She pointed at a framed wizarding photograph of a good-looking man on a sideboard; he winked suggestively at Tonks, which she found surprising her given her current appearance. "He works away from home most of the time, and I'm sure he ... strays." She blew her nose loudly. "He gets owls, and pretends they're nothing important, but I can tell from the handwriting they're from women. I ... I don't want to lose him. I felt as long as I was s..s..sure he loved me, I wouldn't really mind if he was faithful or not." The tears started to flow freely again, to the discomfort of both Aurors.

"I see," said Cassius soothingly. "And so you went to this man to buy a Love Potion."

"Yes," she said, sniffing. "Well, I tried buying the ingredients first, but I was never very good at making potions. So I started buying bottles of it ready-made. I didn't think it was really illegal."

"We often find people think that," chipped in Tonks, coldly. Probably because it isn't, technically speaking, she added to herself. The offence was using the stuff over an extended period as a form of control. Her comment made Mrs Easton look nervous again, however. That pretty much what you were planning then, Beatrice?

Cassius looked at the woman cautiously, evidently weighing up what his approach should be. Tonks realised, now she had a moment or two to think about it, that so far they only had something small-time. Unless the seller had had other items to offer, of course.

"We don't like people selling this sort of thing, Mrs Easton," said Cassius after a moment or two.

"I - I - I know."

"We find that people who sell items of this kind often supply much worse items also." It seemed he had the same idea.

"Y - yes, I suppose they do."

"You could get in a lot of trouble, you know." His voice became sterner.

"Oh, no, please don't arrest me!" she cried, panic-stricken. "Please, don't let my husband know! Please ... I don't want to lose him over this. Please."

Tonks wasn't sure whether that would be a good or a bad thing, but she was quite sure that she didn't want to make it any of her business. "You'd better be co-operative, then," she snapped. She didn't like bullying people this way. Or more to the point, she didn't like the thought she might start to like it. Next time we do this, Cassius old mate, you can be the Mr Nasty. I don't care if you're any good at it or not.

Cassius, of course, was still playing Mr Nice. "Who is the man you met in the pub?" he said carefully. Again, Tonks could detect slight tension in his voice as he asked the crucial question.

"I don't know his name," she said with a gulp. "I met him in a bookshop. It's a bit out of the way - Islington - and he saw me looking at potions books and guessed what I wanted them for." Tonks raised her eyebrows. How come everyone except the Ministry seems to know about this damn bookshop? "He offered to sell me what I needed, but please, I didn't use the love potions as much as he said I did. And I'd never have used anything stronger if they didn't work, not even if he really had something like he hinted he had. I'd never do that to Bobby. It sounded horrible."

Tonks looked at Cassius speechlessly. It seemed they'd found a real-life role model for their Mrs Anonymous character. Great! Sometimes, I just love coincidences.

"I'm ... I'm really sorry," said Mrs Easton, who apparently hadn't noticed the exchange of looks. "I promise, I won't meet with him again. I won't go there next time." Both Aurors heads jerked round at this.

"You arranged to meet him again?" said Tonks sharply. "When?"

"N ... next week," she said, frightened. "That was the arrangement. But I promise, I won't go."

"No, you won't," said Tonks grimly. "I will."