Nymphadora Tonks and the Liquor of Jacmel

18. Reunions

Saturday 22^nd August 1994

Tonks stepped out of the tent and took a long, deep breath of morning air. It was early enough for the cool of the night to have not yet given way to the summer heat, and it felt pleasantly fresh. Most of the campers had yet to stir on this Saturday morning, so she stood in front of the tent flap and just let herself enjoy the moment. It was a rare pleasure; she wasn't usually up and about this early, but she'd been so tired the previous evening that she'd collapsed into bed as soon as the tent was up, and slept through for a solid eight hours.

It had been a huge relief to pack her bags and take a Portkey to the World Cup site after the exhausting and frustrating previous week. And it all looked so promising at the start! Oh never mind. No use crying over spilt potion. Much. Tonks reckoned that, for the next few days at least, she could relegate considerations of her Auror work to the background and simply appreciate the atmosphere. Or at any rate, for a little while. She'd made sure to bring her case notes along, and fully intended to take any chance to cast an eye over their suspects that might present itself.

That thought reminded her of Ballantyne. The man had left them all thoroughly exasperated; several times, he had obviously been on the point of spilling what he knew, but in the end had refused to say anything of note beyond his original story at the interview. There had been little they could do but book him on the assault charge and let him go.

He had paid over a two hundred Galleon good behaviour surety - a sum that he had raised with surprising speed - and immediately returned to Brighton. That was all right, he wasn't going anywhere. The conditions of the surety had included a requirement that he wear an anti-Disapparation bracelet at all times, and notify the authorities of any Floo journeys he planned to make (and even if he didn't, the Floo network office were keeping an eye on the use of his fire). In addition, spells had been cast on the front and back of his house to allow the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol to watch for visitors unobtrusively. Presumably there hadn't been any worthy of note - Cornworthy had promised to alert the rest of the team if anything interesting happened on the case.

Tonks smiled to herself slightly guiltily; she was really hoping that nothing would for the next few days.

A rustle from the tents behind her told her that the rest of the team were stirring. Chesney Thompson poked his head out of the flap and grinned at her, albeit slightly blearily.

"Up early, aren't you, Tonks? Putting us all to shame then?" A series of groans and coughs from inside the tent indicated that Will Poppleford too was slowly returning to consciousness.

Tonks grinned back. "Of course, Ches. We Aurors are professionals. We don't laze around in bed at the weekend when there's work to be done."

Chesney looked around sceptically. "So where's Rhiannon, then?"

"Er, team leader's privilege, I suppose, to stay in bed when her team are ready to go!" She raised her voice slightly for the last few words, and was rewarded with a series of muffled curses from within the tent. She ducked back under the flap into the small kitchen; Rhiannon Davies had made her way to the bedroom door, and was looking at her fellow team member with a death glare. Tonks smiled at her beatifically.

"Oh good, you're up."

"Mmphle." Davies made an indeterminate sound and waved her wand in the general direction of the bread-bin; several slices flew out and landed neatly in the toaster. She started the kettle with another jab, and asked, "What time is it?"

"About quarter past six. What time do we start our first shift?"

"Seven. Ugh."

"Right," said Tonks brightly. She was usually the one trying to prise her eyelids apart in situations like these, and so was determined to be as infuriating as possible. "Well, you'd better get ready then. Wouldn't want to be late, would we?"

"No, we wouldn't, would we? Tonks?"

"Yes?"

"You're fired."

*****

It took a hour or two after the start of their shift for the campsite to really come to life. Most of the people at their end of the site were holders of cheap tickets and had been here for a couple of weeks already, and it seemed that quite an atmosphere of camaraderie had built up between them. Even the Irish and Bulgarians seemed to be getting along without any more than friendly rivalry, possibly because the former outnumbered the latter by about six to one.

Tonks and Chesney wandered slowly along between the tents, stopping occasionally to issue warnings to people they saw using wands, or employing any other kind of magical apparatus that would be hard to explain away as the latest Japanese electronic gizmo if the Muggle campsite owners saw what they were doing. Most people seemed to have got the hang of things by now, and although there were a few kettles boiling on campfires with suspiciously regular flames, there was nothing grossly out of the ordinary at their end of the site.

They couldn't really say the same of the more exclusive end of the site. As the walked, they began to notice some outlandish variations on the tent theme among the more recent arrivals. Chesney seemed quite impressed, although Tonks privately thought that many of them crossed the line between ornate and tacky. One splendid example gave the appearance of being constructed entirely from white marble with gold trimmings on the curlicues, although she reckoned that to be fair it probably was made out of some sort of cloth (or at least, the edges appeared to ripple quite convincingly in the breeze).

"Now why can't the Ministry give us something like that, eh, Tonks?" asked Chesney jokingly as they passed by. "You'd think we'd rate a few perks on the job, wouldn't you?"

She was saved from the need to answer by a surprised voice from behind them. "Tonks, was that? Well, well, if it isn't my dear cousin."

They spun round to see a teenage boy with pale, pointed features staring at them. His concessions to Muggle clothing had gone only as far as trousers and a very robe-like jacket, together with a scarf in the Bulgarian colours. "I didn't expect to run into you here," he said, with a unpleasant sneer that Tonks remembered well from the few previous occasions on which she'd met him. "How on earth did you get tickets? Win the competition in the Daily Prophet, did you?"

"Cousin Draco," said Tonks through gritted teeth. "So nice to meet you again too. Do give my love to my dear aunt and uncle, won't you?" Chesney's eyebrows rose as he looked between them. Draco's lip curled.

"Oh, I will, I will," he said, looking them up and down. "They're always glad to hear what the poor relations are up to these days." A faint look of realisation crossed his face as he took in the badges on their clothes. "Oh, I see, security. I should have realised, you wouldn't be able to afford tickets."

"I suppose you've got seats in the Top Box, then?" said Tonks sarcastically. It was a good line, but unfortunately her young cousin had an even better comeback available.

"Well yes, as a matter of fact we have," he said smugly. "Special guests of the Minister himself. He's a very good friend of my father, you know." His smirk widened as her face fell in disbelief, and he looked at her with a hint of challenge. "Father told me you had gone into law enforcement. I presume he didn't like to say that you were just a guard dog. It's not really something you want people to associate with you, however distantly, is it?. Still, one has to be charitable. I suppose it must be the best you can expect on your side of the family."

"What, you mean the decent side?" snapped Tonks. She instantly regretted it; she'd long ago learnt not to rise when her sleazier relatives taunted her. Unfortunately, since she didn't see them very often nowadays, it seemed she was out of practice.

Draco smiled. "Oh, I struck a nerve, did I? I'm so sorry." He didn't look it. His eyes flicked to Tonks' hair, which was bright green and shoulder length today. "New hairstyle specially for the occasion? Up the Irish? I remember it as brown, but you probably go around changing it all the time, don't you? Helps you save on hairdressing bills, I suppose."

There was an underlying hint of something in his tone that Tonks couldn't quite place. She hoped it might mean he was slightly alarmed by her talents, or at least impressed despite himself. She wouldn't have bet on it being anything other than scorn, though. Whatever it was, it wasn't something she particularly wanted to discuss in front of Chesney.

"Whereas you just like to show off what flash gits you are and swank around in your little private palace, then? I'm surprised you even deigned to spend time here camping with us mere serfs."

The boy seemed unfazed by this. "Oh, Father had some people to see," he said. Smirking again. "We had to provide them with somewhere civilised to meet, didn't we?" He hesitated for a moment with an uncertain look, as if he'd said more than he'd meant to; then his eyes narrowed and he added, with studied insult, "It's a pity my aunt Andromeda chose to stray away from respectability, she comes from such a good family. It must be awful having a Mudblood for a father."

Tonks whitened, and next to her Chesney made a disgusted noise. "Yeah?" she said. "Much better than having a complete creep as a father. Miss those long ago glory days when he was You-Know-Who's catamite, does he?"

This time, she definitely had the better of the exchange. Chesney looked startled, but forbore to comment. Draco Malfoy's face, however, turned pink - or at any rate slightly less colourless, which seemed to be the nearest he ever came to flushing.

"Don't you dare insult my father, Little Miss I-Don't-Even-Know-Who-I-Really-Am," he spat. "He's worth ten of you. Well actually no, he's worth much more than that, I suppose ten times nothing is still nothing, isn't it?"

"Can't you just arrest him for something?" put in Chesney, who had been looking at the boy with mounting dislike. "There must be some perks to being an Auror, surely?"

"An Auror?" Draco Malfoy looked thoroughly disconcerted for a moment, but recovered himself quickly enough to sneer again. "Well, well. I understand they're getting desperate for people to do the job now. Think there'll be any trouble, do you?" He gazed at her nastily.

"I hope not," snarled Tonks. You really are an irritating little snot-rag, aren't you, cousin?

"And if there is," added Chesney unexpectedly, "and I even think you have anything to do with it, you'll be spending the night in a nice little Ministry cell with hot and cold running rats instead of in your comfy bed. So don't you put so much as a toe out of place, little boy, because if you do, you'll be wishing you'd volunteered to clean out a dragon cage instead."

Tonks grinned at her cousin, who seemed to be struggling to find a good comeback to this sudden outburst, and nodded at her partner. "Couldn't have put that any better myself," she said. "Well, we can't hang around holding family reunions all day, can we? Some of us have worthwhile things to do. Good morning to you, coz." She turned away sharply before Draco could think of anything effective to say in response.

"Is he really your cousin?" asked Chesney as they strolled away as casually as possible.

"I'm afraid so." Tonks scowled. "My mother's sister's boy. From the pure-blood side of the family, as you can tell. Please don't tell me you care one way or the other about that, Ches, or I might just have to hex you."

Chesney laughed. "Doesn't really matter to me, actually - but the rabid purists who have a wand up their backsides about it are just plain irritating. And if you don't mind me saying so, your cousin is a real little creep. I'm sure I've used things less slimy than him in potions."

"Mind? Hah. Say it as much as you like, it can't be worse than I've said about him and his wonderful father, Lucius Oh-No-I-Was-Never-A-Death-Eater-How-Could-Anyone-Even-Think-Such-A-Thing Malfoy." She stopped to take a much needed breath after the last sentence.

Chesney shivered at the suggestion of a Death Eater connection but let it pass. "How do you put up with them?" he asked curiously. "And what was that 'not knowing who you are' stuff all about?"

"Oh that," said Tonks evasively. She wasn't quite sure why, but she didn't really want to start discussing her Metamorphmagus abilities with Chesney at this point. "Pureblood heritage stuff, probably. Anyway, I don't usually have to put up with them. We've only ever met a few times, and not for a while now. If I have any luck, it'll be even longer next time."

"Riiight. Fair enough, then."

Tonks looked at him with amusement. "So where did that little 'I'll put you in a rat-infested cell' speech come from, anyway?"

"Oh, that." He looked embarrassed. "Just felt like putting the wind up him a bit. He was being so annoying. Did I exceed my authority by threatening him or something?"

"Probably." She grinned at him. "Ches, mate, I think you just made honorary Auror."

*****

The rest of the day passed without events of particular note. Tonks contrived to steer Chesney in the direction of the tent occupied by the Ashford relatives, but they were elsewhere when they arrived, and she couldn't really linger there without it looking suspicious

The evening was also incident-free (unless you counted the bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey that Poppleford had thoughtfully brought with him to pass around after their shift finished). Unfortunately, they were on the early rota again the following morning, and despite their many grumbles, Rhiannon ordered them to retire early to make sure they got at least some sleep.

It wasn't until Tonks was curled up in bed reading that she noticed that Rhiannon hadn't even got undressed yet. Seeing Tonks' eyebrows raised in inquiry, she said in a rather shifty manner, "Right, I think I'll just do one more patrol before I turn in."

Tonks smiled to herself. For an Auror, Rhiannon was being remarkably transparent. "Oh there's no need," she said innocently. "The squads on night duty can do all that. You just get yourself some rest before the morning."

"Er, no, I really should, team leader and all that ..."

"Don't knock yourself out, girl! Let somebody else do a bit of the work for a change."

"But ..."

Tonks took pity on her. "Oh shut up, you idiot. Go and see Donnacha if you want. I won't tell on you."

"Oh!" Rhiannon's face was almost comically crestfallen. "Was I being that obvious?"

Tonks grinned. "Honestly? Yes. But don't mind me, it's quite sweet really. Sickeningly so, in fact. You've only been separated from him one bloody night, after all, and you're missing him already."

Rhiannon blushed slightly. "I suppose I am." Plaintively, she added, "You make me sound like a hopeless schoolgirl."

"If the pointed hat fits ... how long have you two been together, anyway?"

"Five years," said Rhiannon, with a slightly defensive air.

"Five years?" Tonks gazed at her friend with wide eyes. "By rights, aren't you're supposed to be happily ignoring each other most of the time by now?" She smirked at her. "But you're still gooey-eyed over him, aren't you? However much you pretend you aren't when you tease him in company."

Rhiannon made a face back at her. "Yes, I suppose so. Must be the cute Irish accent or something. Pathetic, isn't it?"

"Oh, I don't know. As I said, it's quite sweet." She looked at her curiously. "Why don't you two just get married and have done with it? Risks of the job make your nervous or something?"

"You're forgetting, he already has a wife, Tonks."

"Well, two words: divorce action." An uncomfortable thought struck her. "Or do you think he's just happy to be stringing you along? As long as he's married, he can't get married sort of thing?"

Rhiannon snorted. "Oh, more than you know, dear." She shook her head at Tonks' raised eyebrows, conveying a clear message of I don't want to talk about it, OK? "Anyway, I'd better be off. Chuck me the badge over, would you? I suppose I should look official."

Tonks leant over to pick up the security ID badge from Rhiannon's bedside table. As she did so, the book she was reading fell to the floor. Rhiannon caught sight of the title, moved over quickly with a delighted grin, and grabbed it.

"And you call me gooey-eyed!" she crowed. "Honestly, Tonks, I never thought you'd be the sort to read this stuff." In a dramatic manner, she read out, "The Heart's Plenty; a tale of a witch and a wizard. And another wizard. And another wizard. Star-crossed lovers abound as beautiful young sorceress Esmeralda LeBaudellin learns about love, passion and magic in the court of Louis XIV, and ..."

"... an Auror goes barking mad?" interrupted Tonks firmly. "That's my case notes, you twit. I borrowed the book from my mum and copy-charmed them into it."

"Oh yeah?" said Rhiannon, smirking, and opened the book at random. "Let's have a look at what you're working on, then. Her heart swelled inexplicably within her as he pulled her against his taut manly body and began to passionately kiss the exposed curve of her breast. She melted into his arms as his fingers explored her and the rest of the world seemed to fade away ... Wow, why don't I ever get cases like that?"

Tonks sighed, leant over and tapped the book with her wand. The lurid adventures of Esmeralda LeBaudellin immediately vanished, to reveal a decidedly unlurid transcript of the first interview with Sylvester Ballantyne. "I charmed it so only I could read it, Rhiannon! I wasn't going to leave those notes lying around where anyone could read them, was I? I'm in Claymore's bad books as it is. Happy now?"

"Oh," said Rhiannon, pretending to pout. "You're spoiling all my fun tonight."

Tonks chuckled evilly. "Not all of it. Unless of course I wait half an hour or so, call you up on the Auror mirror phone and interrupt something ..."

Rhiannon snorted. "You'd better not ring me for anything short of a real emergency, Nymphadora, not unless you like the idea of spending the next week as a dung beetle. Agreed?"

"Auror's honour."

"Hmmm." She gathered her robes, pinned the badge on them haphazardly, and walked out, pausing at the door to grin. "I'll leave you with your case notes, then, although I'm convinced you'll turn them straight back into The Heart's Plenty when I'm gone. Shocking."

Tonks grinned at her. "You're shocked by this? Lucky I didn't use my well-thumbed copy of Hunting Muggles for Pleasure and Profit, then. You'd never have looked at me the same way again."

"Hunting Muggles for ..." Rhiannon trailed off and looked at Tonks uncertainly. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Nope. It should be lying on my desk at this very moment unless someone's nicked it." She grinned again, but then took pity on her friend. "Actually, it's one of the lovely titles I picked up at that bookshop near where I live? To keep them out of dangerous hands? The ones I still haven't got my money back for, by the way."

"They actually sell that sort of stuff?" said Rhiannon in alarm. "Shouldn't someone go round there and ask them what the hell they're playing at?"

"We did." Well, Cassius did. He didn't get much in the way of results, but at least we tried, she added to herself.

"Oh." Rhiannon's face cleared; she looked relieved not to have to worry about something new. "Well, Tonks, I'll leave you to your bedtime reading then. Don't wait up."

"I won't. Don't wake me when you get back from your, er, patrolling." She winked at Rhiannon, who avoided her eyes with determination as she left.

Tonks charmed the notes to look like a book from the outside again, then, reminded by the conversation she'd just had, flicked through them to Cassius' report of his recent interview with Tina Orevel.

She sighed.

It hadn't gone well.

Cassius had started by explaining politely that the Aurors had information that several very dubious characters had frequented her shop to buy Dark Arts volumes, and they would like to know what information, if any, Miss Orevel had about them, because ...

Miss Orevel had interrupted him and refused point blank to offer any information at all about her customers, citing their right to privacy.

Cassius had pointed out that these were dangerous people who had already been responsible for assorted murder attempts, assaults, and other serious crimes.

Miss Orevel had pointed out that she had no information at all about what her customers did after they left her shop, and had no right to act on mere vulgar speculation that they might be the same persons that the Aurors were interested in.

Cassius had pointed out that he had a very good description of at least one of these people and a woman he'd been seen talking to, and who he had lured into buying highly illegal substances.

Miss Orevel had pointed out that appearances could be deceptive, and indeed could be changed, and that you couldn't tell from the outward appearance what people were like.

Cassius had pointed out that she was placing herself in a very problematic position by selling Dark Arts works and refusing to take any steps to ensure they did not end up in dangerous hands.

Miss Orevel had pointed out that her primary desire was to provide a refuge for all rare wizarding knowledge, not just Dark Arts works, and that deciding whose hands were or were not dangerous was his job, not hers.

Cassius had pointed out that her shop had never been registered with the Ministry, and that she'd better be sure she hadn't committed any infractions of wizarding law as otherwise they might just have to bring charges against her.

Miss Orevel had pointed out that she didn't actually have to register her shop with the Ministry, she merely had to make sure she had adequate anti-Muggle security, and that Cassius was free to inspect it, or to go and dunk his head in a cauldron of boiling potion, as he chose.

Cassius had pointed out that he would be watching her closely and that she'd better not take a step out of line of she'd be in serious trouble.

Miss Orevel had pointed out that he was welcome to do so if that was what made him feel good, and that if he still wanted those old Quidditch yearbooks the price had just trebled to thirty Galleons apiece.

Tonks groaned and laid down the notes. She could see herself having to don her Little Mrs Anonymous disguise and go poking around in the bookshop again. Admittedly, when she'd visited the place she'd had a brief glimpse of how strongly Trina Orevel seemed to feel about her books, but she must really have been annoying if she could manage to get Cassius' goat like that.

She picked up her wand to douse the lights, and noticed her mirror phone next to it on the table. With a grin she picked it up.

"Rhiann ..."

Oh no, I promised I wouldn't call her, didn't I? Damn.

She stopped and thought for a moment.

I promised I wouldn't call her ...

With a wicked grin she spoke into it again. "Donnacha O'Gregan ..."