Nymphadora Tonks and the Liquor of Jacmel

21. Defence Against The Dark Arts

Tuesday 25^th August 1994

"Tone it down a bit" turned out to be an optimistic request when they eventually went to tell the Irish supporters their celebrations were going on a little bit too long. Everywhere, they were met with the riposte that the craic of winning the World Cup was far too good for any self-respecting Irishman (or Irishwoman) to let go by without an all-night party at the very least.

"Oh, stuff this," said Rhiannon finally, voicing the general opinion to the relief of the others. "Will, Ches, you can go back if you like - we'll talk in the morning. Tonks, I'm going to see if I can find Donnie, want to come along?" There was an unspoken just to make sure he's not getting into any trouble Claymore will hear about, and Tonks nodded as the other two disappeared gratefully.

"Where is he anyway?"

"I don't know," she said with foreboding. "There were a group of them together in a line of posh tents. Let's check there first, shall we?"

As it turned out, they didn't have to look very far. Donnacha O'Gregan was standing with a bottle in one hand and a lit wand in the other, attempting to conduct a chorus of Galway Bay. Rhiannon coughed loudly to attract his attention, but she might as well not have bothered as the impromptu group bellowed out the next verse with particular vigour.

"For the strangers came and tried to teach us their way, They scorned us just for bein' what we are, But they might as well go chasin' after moon beams, Or light a penny candle from a star ..."

"Muggle-borns," muttered Rhiannon, giggling; she'd apparently met them before. She stepped into the light. "Donnie! Ignoring me, are you?"

He turned to look at her, swaying slightly, and stopped singing. The others carried right on. "Rhiannon me darlin'!" he cried. "My love! The only woman in the world for me! I could never ignore you!" He dropped the bottle, scooped her up, and kissed her with such enthusiasm that it actually drew cheers from the singers. She made a face at Tonks with a sort of resigned amusement, but didn't seem particularly displeased.

"My love, my love, we won, we won! And now you've come to celebrate with us! My night is complete!" He swung her around happily in what was probably meant to be some sort of Irish dance, but one obviously best performed on rather less of a Guinness intake. He soon tripped over his own feet and they fell in a heap on the floor, to further cheers from the spectators.

Tonks fought to keep a straight face, without much success. "Hey, Don, that's my move!" she said, grinning, as they picked themselves up; Rhiannon looking slightly flustered, but also smiling.

"Tonks!" He pulled her into the hug and kissed her too, but on the cheek with a sort of exaggerated circumspection, and declared in a stage whisper, "You're a sweet colleen an' all, but you're not the love of my life now. Otherwise I'd have kissed you properly, I would." He looked over his shoulder at his girlfriend and winked.

"Got him well trained I see," said Tonks ironically.

"Oh, the poor boy doesn't need training, look you," she said. "He's just hopelessly smitten, aren't you dear?" She came up and put her arm around him, which at least helped him remain upright.

"That I am," he said. "Let's CELEBRATE!" He accepted the whiskey bottle that one of his smirking companions pressed into his hand and took a long pull from it, then tilted it to Rhiannon's mouth. After a slight hesitation, she smiled, took a swallow and looked at Tonks uncertainly.

"We came to tell you to stop, Don, actually," said Tonks, taking pity on her. "Yes, yes, I know it's a craic and all that, but give us a break, eh? You don't have to work in the morning, but we do. We'll have the boss breathing down our necks if we're not careful."

"Oh yeah? Egbert Claymore is a fine fellow indeed but he can go and ..." The last few words came out slurred, which was probably a good thing under the circumstances. O'Gregan shook his head. "Now it may be that I have had too much to drink," he said in wonderment. "Can that ever be so for an Irishman?" Tonks bit her lip to repress a giggle. He still talked blarney even when drunk.

"Come on, my darling," said Rhiannon gently. "Let's get you back." She took the bottle from his hand, returned it to its original owner, then nodded to Tonks. Between them they propped O'Gregan up and helped him across the field. It was slow going, partly because he swayed alarmingly on every other step, and partly because he insisted on bellowing out Mountains O'Mourne at the top of his voice with the emphasis in all the wrong places, and half the people they passed decided to join in.

"Oh, Mary, THIS London's a wonDERful sight, With PEOPLE here workING by day and BY night ..."

"Mary, eh? Who's she?" teased Tonks. O'Gregan looked at her blearily and started again.

"Oh, RHIANNON, this LONdon's a WONderful SIGHT, WITH people HERE working BY DAY and by night ..."

"Don't encourage him, Tonks," said Rhiannon, wincing slightly but glancing at O'Gregan with affection. They gripped his robes firmly and pulled him along, semi-oblivious as he sang. Tonks glanced between the two of them and bit her lip. She had to admit to herself that she didn't quite understand their relationship.

"Um, Rhiannon ..." she began hesitantly as O'Gregan looked away, fixing his eyes on his girlfriend as he launched into the third verse.

"There's beautiful GIRLS here, oh, never YOU mind, Beautiful SHAPES Nature never DESigned, Lovely comPLEXions OF roses AND cream, BUT let me REMARK with regard to the SAME ..."

"Yes?" Rhiannon said, looking at her.

"I've been meaning to ask ..."

"That if at THOSE roses you VENture to sit, The COLOURS might all ... COME AWAY on your lip, So I'll wait ... for the WILD ROSE that's waitin' for me, In the PLACE where the ... DARK Mourne sweeps down ... to the sea ..."

"What?" she said, blushing slightly at his drunken, but obviously sincere, sentimentality. It was clear though that he was beginning to lose his thread. Tonks looked at him and shook her head. "On second thoughts, I'll ask you later," she said. The main thing at this stage was to get him back before he passed out on them completely.

His tent made their own look primitive. Must have been quite a package deal he got. Tonks tactfully waited outside while Rhiannon settled her now semi-comatose boyfriend into bed, and steeled herself to ask the question she wanted to ask. She got the chance once Rhiannon emerged from the tent with a tender sort of smile; as they walked back, she said "So what was it you wanted to ask me then?"

"Oh yes. Right." She braced herself. "You know, you two, you seem very ... um ..."

"What?"

"Well ... sweet, I suppose? Sweet on each other anyway. So why doesn't he get a divorce and make an honest woman of you? Well, as honest as you're ever going to get, anyway. Because he's Catholic? Because his wife is?"

"No, he's quite liberal-minded on that."

"Don't you want to? Happy with things as they are?"

"Kind of happy ... oh, of course we want to, you idiot. It's just ..." She stopped there; after a few seconds waiting for her to carry on, Tonks exploded.

"Well? What is it?"

"He's ... oh all right." She shrugged resignedly. "I suppose a lot of people already know, why not another? He got married young, straight out of school to this stuck-up little ... tart from one of those posh pureblood families who think they are so much better than you because they've got some money. And of course, at that age they were so sure it was True Love" - her voice was becoming increasingly bitter - "that the damn fool signed the magical wedding contract the bride's father insisted on before he'd give his consent. Of course, after a few years he found out what a total and utter bitch she was, but it was far too late by then. He's been regretting it ever since, poor lamb. So have I, come to that."

"I see." She did see, sort of; she didn't know if Rhiannon's view of Mrs Norah O'Gregan was justified, but she could understand that she might be a little prejudiced on the subject. She hesitated, uncomfortably aware that tact wasn't always - or indeed often - her strong point. "Is this breaking up a happ... er, you know. Where did the fault lie? Anywhere?"

"Well she's a total cow and he's a good bloke, but ... oh whatever. Just didn't work out. You know what it's like when you're eighteen. You go all weak at the knees over someone good-looking, and think you've found your perfect match. Then you realise you actually need to like each other out of bed too. They were already as good as split up by the time I came along, if that's what you're asking." Her face softened. "Donnie and I started working together, and well, things just developed between us. I was so happy when she left him and we could really be together, I was practically dancing. So was he. He's a good bloke, my Donnie, really. But she didn't like it that he'd got someone else. Dropped round to our house and waved the contract at him, and it all went rather pear-shaped."

Tonks nodded. "Er, this contract then. What does it say?"

She snorted. "Invokes dire penalties if he ever files for divorce without her consent. Her daddy didn't want his precious little girl's heart broken, did he? Hah! Fat chance. I've met goblins with softer hearts than she's got. And now the cow won't let him go because he had the temerity to want to divorce her. I mean, she walked out on him in the first place! Well, OK, because of me I suppose." She smiled ruefully. "She doesn't like me for some reason. Can't think why."

"Nooo ... no, I suppose not." They walked back towards their tent in companionable silence for a while. As they approached, Tonks hesitated; but she couldn't not ask. She coughed.

"Er ... these dire penalties. What are they exactly?"

Rhiannon laughed, but didn't sound as if she found it especially funny. "Apparently they invoke a lovely little selection of jinxes. You know - foot-long nasal hair, skin bursting out in boils all over, and ... well, um, shrivelling spells. That sort of thing."

"Ah."

"Yes, ah."

"Can't you find a counter-jinx?"

Rhiannon scowled. "Of course. Except it's illegal to break a magical contract. So if he does, she goes to the Wizarding Registry with the contract and gets him arrested, they give him a huge fine and he loses his job. Great, eh?"

"Oh well," Tonks said. "So, your boyfriend was a complete idiot. It happens."

They burst out laughing as they approached the tent, waving to the other two who were waiting outside for them, still discussing the match. When they heard the first bang!, Tonks winced, but assumed it was just overenthusiastic Irish supporters continuing to make a nuisance of themselves. Then the sounds of laughter and singing stopped suddenly as if a volume control had been turned down, giving way to momentary silence. And after that, screams began to break out from all over the campsite.

*****

Tonks and Rhiannon looked at each other for a moment, perplexed. From where they were standing, it wasn't clear what was causing them, especially as most of the lights around the site seemed to have gone out. The other two hurried over, looking equally confused.

"What's going on?" asked Poppleford with urgency. "Are we needed?"

"Probably," said Rhiannon. She hesitated for a moment as the yelling was punctuated by more loud explosions, then came to a decision. "You boys can Apparate, yes?"

They nodded, and she said crisply, "Right, forget secrecy for the moment. All of you follow me, aim for the centre of the field. Let's see what's happening. Keep your wands ready." She immediately vanished; Tonks and the others exchanged quick glances and did the same.

They arrived in the middle of what could only be described as a stampede. Tonks was nearly knocked over several times as hundreds of white-faced campers raced past her, many carrying small children. Clearly none of them cared who was in their way as they fled whatever was causing the trouble. Others, with no-one to get away but themselves, were taking a more direct route out of trouble by Disapparating.

The noise had increased steadily until it was now impossible to make out what anyone was saying. Tonks had to fight against the rush - few people, other than Ministry officials, were heading towards the source of the trouble - but gradually, as the crowds thinned and the noise abated slightly, she got close enough to see what the cause was.

When she finally managed it, she felt a sudden deep chill throughout her body.

There still wasn't much light, except for occasional flashes as spells were cast. But it was enough to reveal a phalanx of hooded and masked wizards marching steadily across the field, made even more sinister by the fact they were in semi-darkness.

Above them four people were spinning violently in midair, helpless to defend themselves against what appeared to be a number of levitation spells pulling them in half a dozen different directions at once. Tonks recognised one of them as the Muggle campsite manager - she felt a momentary pang of guilt that she couldn't even remember his name - and the rest were obviously his family. It seemed equally obvious to her who the scumbags in masks laughing and jeering below them must be, and why they had chosen these particular targets.

It was almost incomprehensible after all this time, but the modus operandi was still familiar to an Auror, and too much so to anyone who remembered the war. They could only be Death Eaters.

For a moment, Tonks couldn't quite handle the mixture of reactions that sprang from this realisation; nausea, disgust, and such intense anger that she was actually shaking with rage. Overlaying this, however, was a nauseating feeling of cold terror that she struggled to fight down, as it swelled up unexpectedly from some deep place within her.

Tonks had not, of course, ever faced or even seen actual Death Eaters when masked and going about their business. (She knew with hindsight that she'd met some incognito, at the infrequent family occasions she had been allowed to attend.) Her parents had done everything they possibly could during the war to keep her away from such dangers. And these could only be the remnants of You-Know-Who's supporters who had managed to talk themselves out of Azkaban, the dregs of the 'Dark Army'. But the forgotten fears of her childhood still rose up almost overwhelmingly, horrifying her. Sights such as this had once been the stuff of her nightmares.

Then again, they were pretty bloody scary right here and now.

It took a frozen couple of seconds before Tonks was able to angrily remind herself that she wasn't ten years old any more. As she approached the advancing Death Eaters she let her Auror training take over, readying herself for a fight and looking for the members of her squad, scattered in the riot. It was, of course, precisely the kind of situation the training was designed for, to help Aurors cope without having to consciously think what to do. As she got nearer, she began to assess the situation.

The Death Eaters were moving slowly but steadily across the campsite in close formation, with a central group keeping the Muggles in the air. They were well protected by a ring of wands, with wizards around the edge casting Blasting Spells to clear their path, and (to judge from the way the spells cast by the security teams were bouncing off) putting up a complete perimeter of defensive Shield Charms. Tonks could feel her fury building as more hooded nutters came to join them as they marched, laughing loudly and apparently having the time of their life.

Faced with this unexpected and almost military formation, the Ministry wizards and witches were forced into retreat. They must have been planning this for months, Tonks realised. And I bet I've got a pretty good idea where they met up tonight!

She scowled as a few wizards in Law Enforcement Patrol robes tried to attack by Apparating behind the Death Eaters; but the shields were apparently in place all around, and they were picked off with well-aimed Stunning Spells as soon as they reappeared. Others were casting Reductor Curses to blow holes in the ground in front of the advance to slow it down. This was marginally more effective; certainly the Death Eaters had to step more carefully and cast Path-Smoothing Charms before they could proceed.

She could hear someone - it sounded like Dawlish - bellowing in the background, issuing orders; it sounded as if he had a Sonorous charm on him, but even that wasn't quite enough. He was warning his security teams that they had to synchronise their attacks, because they dare not risk letting the Muggles fall from sixty feet in the air. That made sense to Tonks. That drop could kill a fully-grown wizard, let alone a small Muggle child. You sick, twisted bastards.

Tonks quickly caught up with the action and formed up with the rest of her squad as per the emergency procedures (she wished now that she'd read them more carefully). There was little they could do, however, except keep up Shield Charms to protect their own group, and help to get injured campers away from the danger. She could see out of the corner of her eye that most people had headed for the woods. At least they've got the sense they were born with, then.

The marchers, on the other hand, were able to use whatever spells they wished, and several Ministry wizards were being hit. Two concerted volleys from them, the blasts echoing around the campsite like bombs, first shredded one of the more elaborate tents and then scattered its wood, metal, canvas, and posters of the Ireland team over a wide area. A tall ponytailed wizard, unable to get out of the way in time, fell to the ground clutching his arm with a yell of pain. Tonks winced; it wasn't easy to tell in the dim light, but the top of the man's shirt suddenly looked much darker, as if a lot of blood had spread over it. For one horrible moment she thought it might be Williamson; but in the next flash of light she spotted him about fifty yards away with his own squad. From the expression on his face her was evidently as frustrated as she was.

Voices in the background - Tonks recognised Dawlish again, and now Barty Crouch as well - were still frantically yelling for order. Every now and then, a security team would fire a coordinated blast of Stunners into the Death Eater ranks, with others standing by the catch the Muggles if they were successful; but the Shield ring kept them well protected, and the spells just bounced off.

Tonks' face contorted as she watched; for once, this was from sheer rage and frustration, not part of the morphing process. Her mind seemed to be running through every foul swear word she knew on a repeating loop. As she stared venomously at the Death Eaters, trying to gauge if she knew any of them, she realised to her discomfort that subconsciously she was looking out for the Black relatives her mother had said had wormed their way out of trouble.

She grimaced. Pull yourself together, you stupid woman. You don't have time to be chasing ghosts from your past right now. As she looked away, however, a tall, skinny figure in the second rank caught her eye. There was something about his stride ... She mentally filed away the image for when she had time to think about it.

Rhiannon Davies was trying to watch everywhere at once. Following her eyes, Tonks noticed two groups forming some hundred yards away around Dawlish and Crouch, who seemed to be the only ones with any idea of what to do. Crouch was apparently gathering together all the Ministry officials he could find; Tonks recognised Theodosia Moon, head of the Apparition Test Centre, looking rather frazzled in a long woollen dressing-gown; a man with thinning hair she'd seen pass through the office many times on his way to work; and a bearded wizard who, from his appearance, had to be Will Poppleford's boss. Dawlish was calling loudly for squad leaders to come and consult with him. Rhiannon caught Tonks' eye and nodded in his direction.

"I'd better see what he wants!" she yelled. "Tonks, keep an eye on these two. Everybody, keep your shields up, and watch yourselves!" She immediately Disapparated, not even bothering to run the short distance. Tonks looked at Chesney and Poppleford, who were obviously waiting for her to issue instructions. She groaned inwardly; since when did I become Sergeant Tonks? On the other hand, she had to give them the appearance of knowing what she was doing.

"Try to slow them down a bit!" she snapped, remembering the tactic she'd seen earlier and saying the first thing that came to mind. "They'll be able to block Impedimenta, but try chopping up the ground in front of them with a few curses!" She was relieved when they actually followed her order without arguing, and astonished when it seemed to help a little. She was so focused on this that once again, when the situation changed it took her a few moments to realise what was happening.

The screams, which had almost died down now that most people had reached the safety of the woods, suddenly broke out again louder than ever from all around. She heard Poppleford make a choking sound, and looked up.

Not only was she chasing ghosts from the past, it seemed they were coming to chase her.

She'd imagined that she'd faced the worst of her long-buried childhood nightmares tonight. She'd forgotten there was still one left.

It was now much easier to see what was going on around the campsite, because it was bathed in a sickly green light rising from a shape above the wood. Light from an actual, authentic, still nightmarish, but frighteningly real Dark Mark.

*****

No. No. It can't be. Oh no. No.

She reeled. She'd never even considered the possibility of a flank attack, never suspected that someone might be waiting in the trees unseen and unsuspected, never realised that they could pounce on the fleeing campers and kill at their leisure.

No. You bastards. You bastards. No. No. You bastards. No.

Her mind was swearing repeatedly again, even if she couldn't make her mouth work to form the actual words.

I ... I ...

And that clammy knot of terror was tightening itself around her heart again, freezing her in position. She didn't have words to express how it felt.

"Noooarrrgh!"

The sound that eventually broke from her lips wasn't so much a word as an animal cry. Tonks shook herself furiously, her anger directed as much at herself for having frozen as at the Death Eaters. Movement caught her peripheral vision and she turned to face them again.

Except ... they weren't there. As she watched, the last two or three of them vanished. Her heart leapt into her mouth as the Muggles plummeted from the sky, but fortunately a few nearby wizards had the presence of mind to cushion their fall with slowing spells. They hit the ground hard, but not badly enough to break bones; and lay there white-faced, exhausted, and trembling, shying away from the mediwizards who rushed up with wands ready to check them for injuries.

Tonks gazed around helplessly, unsure for a moment what to do. She turned to look for Rhiannon ... but she wasn't there either. Dawlish was now on his own, yelling commands at coordinators, team leaders, and anyone else he could get to pay attention. All the people who had been around him a few minutes ago, including Barty Crouch's entire group, had vanished.

She didn't like to think where they'd gone, but had to shelve that thought as Chesney spoke to her uncertainly. "What do we do, Tonks?"

She turned to him; both he and Poppleford looked as shaken by the recent events as she felt. Tonks glanced around; she had absolutely no idea what was going on, and didn't like the feeling one bit. Dawlish had gathered another group around him, and she spotted several people with team leader badges. "Over there," she said wearily, pointing. "Let's go get instructions."

People came streaming out of the wood as Tonks, Chesney, and Poppleford tramped over towards Dawlish. Tonks had the horrible thought that maybe the Death Eaters had Apparated into the wood to cause more trouble, but relaxed slightly when she realised that there wasn't enough panic around for that. Maybe the Death Eaters themselves hadn't been expecting it? Tonks shuddered. It surely couldn't be You-Know-Who back? No. No way. That would certainly have caused panic.

Dawlish himself seemed unsure of what was happening in the wood, which didn't fill Tonks with confidence. He dispatched several teams there to find out, and barked out staccato orders to the rest, including Squad 14, to check the campers and find out if anyone had been killed or seriously injured.

The chaos was gradually quelled over the next half an hour. Tonks overheard a Ministry team report back from the wood that whoever had sent the Dark Mark into the sky had apparently Disapparated immediately afterwards. There was no sign of the Death Eaters; it looked as though they had either left the site completely, or (a more frustrating possibility) mingled with the crowd and pretended to have been among those running away. And it seemed she was not the only one to whom the idea of a flank attack had occurred. She had to fend off a number of hysterical people asking her if anyone had been killed. Like I know any more than you do! she thought, but had enough tact not to say so.

Fortunately, before too long someone had the intelligence to dispel the Dark Mark, which calmed things down considerably. As people who had seen it investigated filtered out of the wood and their story spread among the crowd, the worst of the fears abated. And gradually, information came through from Ministry sources that no-one had been killed, although there were a number of serious injuries being treated in a makeshift medical centre cobbled together in one of the larger tents. Tonks breathed a huge sigh of relief. Thank Heavens for that. There were still plenty of rumours flying around that contradicted the official story, but it seemed to be accepted that whatever had actually happened, at any rate the Death Eaters had now vanished.

Of course, this proved to be only the start of their night's work. The Ministry quickly arranged a central information point where people could inquire about missing loved ones; but trying to account for tens of thousands of people rapidly became a nightmare, especially as many spoke little or no English, and many more had Disapparated away and were unlikely to return when they had no idea whether or not it was safe to do so. And they had to organise sleeping accommodation for the remainder of the night for people whose tents had been destroyed, or alternatively Portkeys away from the site to places where they could find a bed, or transport back to their homes.

Tonks and her team were kept busy Conjuring sleeping bags and helping to fix up damaged tents. The senior officials also prevailed upon some whose tents had survived relatively unscathed to allow people to shelter in them for the night. Tonks scowled as she heard Lucius Malfoy's drawling voice in the background, oozing sympathy and offering his luxury tent for the cause. She felt sure he would have been one of the masked wizards, but there was no way she could prove that.

Gradually most of the remaining campers were catered for, and the field quietened down. There were still some people arguing vehemently about the damage to their property - and getting short shrift from the Ministry officials, whose nerves were overstrained by this time - but Tonks suddenly found herself with nothing requiring her immediate attention. At some point in proceedings the orders she'd received had caused her to lose contact with Chesney and Poppleford, she had no idea at all where Rhiannon might be, and she still hadn't found out exactly what had happened in the wood - but by now she was too tired to care. She found a chair that had survived the blasts, and collapsed wearily onto it, allowing her eyes to close for a moment.

*****

"It's been a tough night, hasn't it?"

Tonks opened her eyes again in surprise. As far as she could tell, she hadn't actually dropped to sleep for more than a few moments, but being addressed suddenly startled her. After a moment she recognised the voice, and the slow manner of speaking, as Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"No kidding," she said. She didn't have the energy to say any more.

He Summoned another chair from a nearby heap, tested it gingerly, and sat down next to her. She looked at him curiously.

"What's the matter, Mr Shacklebolt?"

He smiled. "Kingsley, please."

"Fine." She watched him; he seemed to be trying to make his mind up about something. "What's the matter?" she repeated. "Er, Kingsley?"

"Nothing, as such ..." He studied her face for a moment, then shrugged. "I just saw you here and ... well, came over to apologise, actually."

Tonks blinked. "Oh, OK. Er, apologise for what, exactly?"

"For being suspicious of you when you joined us," he said, grinning. "I'm not considering the possibility that you're a potential Death Eater sympathiser any more." He extended his hand towards her. "Apology acceptable?"

"Yeah, I suppose." After a moment's hesitation, Tonks smiled wanly and grasped the proffered handshake, too tired to take umbrage. "And likewise, will you forgive me for thinking you were an utter pillock with an attitude problem the size of Mount Everest?"

Shacklebolt looked taken aback for a moment, but then grinned again. "Deal."

Tonks smiled at this and leant back on her chair, closing her eyes once more. He caught her before the chair could tilt over too far and deposit her on the ground.

"Oh. Thanks."

"Don't mention it." She still had her eyes closed, but she could almost hear him smirking. That reminded her of something. "Come to think of it, Kingsley, you'd already stopped being horrible to me at work. What changed? I haven't fought any Death Eaters before tonight, I'm sure I'd have remembered if I had," she added bitterly.

He hesitated. "Ah, that. Let's just say ... I've come into possession of some interesting information. Perhaps we could have a little talk at some point?"

That made her open her eyes and stare at him. "What sort of interesting information?"

"Related to the case I'm working on." He enunciated this even more carefully than usual, then paused to let the implication sink into her tired brain.

"Oh. My cousin. Yes. Right. What is it?"

"Not here." He looked around cautiously. "There's something I need to show you, anyway. I'd like your input. As soon as Claymore stops cursing us for tonight's fiasco, come and see me, all right?"

"OK." Tonks was puzzled, but it seemed clear that Kingsley wasn't going to give her any details tonight. "I didn't see you around," she said after a few moments of silence which threatened to become uncomfortable. "Were you on a security team as well?"

"Yeah. Well, supervising, as a matter of fact. Anyway, at one point I noticed you - and Rhiannon, and a couple of blokes I've never seen before - trying to get in the way of those nutters in hoods. If I'd still been inclined to doubt you, that would definitely have changed my mind."

She bristled slightly. "Oh thank you. You're quite sure I wasn't faking it, are you?"

"Quite sure. I don't think even a Metamorphmagus could have faked that expression on your face tonight when you were looking at the Death Eaters."

"What expression?" she asked, a little disquieted that her face had been so easily readable.

He shrugged. "Sheer hatred, I'd say. Disgust. Loathing. A bit of terror in there too, I reckon?"

"And you're OK with that? Not a problem that I'm letting personal feelings get in the way?" she challenged him.

"Not if you don't let them. And ... when you come right down to it, those aren't unreasonable personal feelings for an Auror to have."

"I see." She paused. "Even the terror?"

He gave her a reassuring smile. "Even the terror. And you handled it, Tonks. You didn't panic that I could see."

"I did a bit at first," she admitted. "For a few seconds there I just froze, then ... I don't know, common sense kicked in. Self-preservation. Training. Something, anyway. I had to act, didn't I? I was ... shocked by how much it affected me. I wasn't that scared last week when I had to fight four people at once in that stupid little alley!"

"But they weren't your worst fear," he said quietly. "And you weren't the only one affected that way. When that Dark Mark went up ... I couldn't move for a few seconds either. It's been a long time since I saw one. Since anyone saw one. For those of us who can remember the war, it was a real shock. It used to be everyone's very worst fear ..."

"I know," said Tonks, equally quietly. "I remember the war too, Kingsley. I heard more than enough to scare me silly, even though Mum and Dad tried their damnedest to make everything as normal as possible. You really think it's less frightening when you're a kid and you can't even do anything about it?"

"I suppose not. Sorry." Tonks nodded acceptance of this and he asked, curiously, "Did you see the Dark Mark before, then?"

"No, but I saw the news enough times ..." What he'd said suddenly registered. "Oh, you did, then? Were you qualified even that far back?"

"No, but ..." He looked away, apparently at something on the other side of the campsite; but his eyes didn't seem focused on it. "Actually, You-Know-Who sent some of his crowd to the family of ... a good friend of mine. He was in at the time, as it happened. I arrived there, all unknowing, just in time to find the Aurors sealing the place off and that ... that Mark floating over the house. I suppose ... after that ..." He trailed off. Tonks, a little taken aback, patted his arm in sympathy.

"So maybe I didn't have it as bad as you, Kingsley. I'm sorry."

"Maybe not. I don't know. The only positive thing I could possibly take out of it was that at least I was forced to face that situation early. Toughened me up for the training." He sighed, still with that distant look. "It's not nearly enough, is it?"

"No. No, I suppose not."

"You never had the chance before tonight. Must have been hell as a kid though." He laughed rather weakly. "I'm surprised it didn't traumatise you for life."

"Yeah ..." She looked at the unexpectedly vulnerable man before her, and felt she owed it to him to confide something too. "Well, actually, do you remember school Defence classes?"

He shrugged. "More or less. What about them in particular?"

"You remember how you had to learn to deal with Boggarts in ... oh, about third or fourth year?" He nodded. "Well, mine was always a Dark Mark hovering over the bodies of my parents. Even then, after the war was well and truly over." She chuckled, rather mirthlessly. "By then, all my classmates had settled down to nice normal fears, like giant cobras or rogue dragons or being trapped in a burning building. Not me, Little Miss Stuck-in-the-Past though. Pathetic, isn't it?"

"Not really," he said thoughtfully, after a short silence. "I imagine it must have been more ... personal for you. In fact when I did it ... that would have been a very common Boggart." He smiled. "Obviously, you must have been born out of your era."

Tonks smiled back. "That could be it. Hey, you know what though?"

"What?"

"After this week, I think my Boggart might turn into Claymore asking for an explanation of how I screwed up!"

Kingsley roared with laughter. "Yeah? Late to the party again, Tonks. I reckon that's been mine for years now."

*****

It was well past four in the morning by the time Squad 14 were allowed to retire to their tents. They were on the edge of the site and had survived the Death Eaters; and fortunately, they hadn't been requisitioned to shelter anyone who had lost their own accommodation.

Poppleford, exhausted, immediately went into his tent, and in no more than a couple of minutes Tonks could hear snores coming from within. She and Chesney hung around outside, looking for Rhiannon. Tonks wasn't too worried about her, but didn't like the fact she hadn't turned up yet.

"Hell of a night, wasn't it?" said Chesney, his voice shaking slightly.

"No kidding," said Tonks. She looked at him with sympathy; it had to have been especially tough for those security staff who weren't law enforcement specialists. "Listen, Ches ... I'm sorry you and Will had to deal with that, all right? I mean, I know you both signed up for it ... but no-one expected more than a bit of trouble between the fans. Or at most helping to break up that scrap between the blonde birds and the little people from the bogs. Asking you to face Death Eaters really wasn't on."

"You did it, though. I didn't see you looking terrified."

You didn't see it, no ... "It's my job," she said gently. It seemed only fair to talk to him the way Kingsley had talked to her. "And ... well, as I've said once already tonight, I didn't find it that bloody easy either."

"No?"

"No. I was just as scared as you. And I'm trained for it. You're not. And it wasn't like you ran away or something. We all did what we could. Wasn't much as it happened, admittedly, but we tried."

"Right. Thanks. Wouldn't have wanted to let the side down." He looked away, obviously hesitating, then shook himself as if to clear his head. "Yeah, look, anyway, Tonks, I meant to mention this earlier, and I might not get the chance to ask again, so er ..."

"Yeah?"

"You wouldn't care to, er, meet up somewhere?" He looked at her hopefully.

Tonks blinked. "Ches, hang on here. You're asking me out?"

"Yeah. Not great timing, I know. Well, absolutely lousy timing, actually, but ... you don't have to, obviously, I just thought I'd ask while I had the chance, you know ..."

"Why me?" she asked cautiously. His face fell.

"Ah, like that, eh? Because ... well, you're single, attractive, and I like you? Pretty much the standard reasons really." He grinned, although he looked a little disappointed underneath..

"Oh." Tonks couldn't help herself; she grinned right back. "Well in that case, then ... yeah. I'd love to. I could do with a bit of cheering up." His face lit up.

"Great! It's a date. Well, OK, it will be when we fix one. When's good for you?"

Tonks thought about her likely schedule for the rest of the week and blanched. "Owl me, OK? After tonight's ... disaster, we're probably going to be rushing round like house-elves at work this week. If I can prise my nose off the grindstone for a bit it'll be a relief to get out and have some fun."

Chesney smiled broadly, and turned to go. "Will do. I'll find something to take your mind off it all, no problem!" He winked and disappeared into the tent. Tonks stood for a moment with what she knew had to be a cheesy grin on her face - well, there's a nice surprise out of the blue! - looked around for Rhiannon again, then gave her up as a bad job. She needed sleep, immediately.

As it happened, she didn't get it. No sooner had she crashed down on the bed and closed her eyes, too exhausted even to take off her robes, than the bell on her mirror phone rang. It was Auror Headquarters, letting her know that everybody was summoned to an emergency meeting at ten AM later that morning. Tonks moaned to herself as she put the gadget down; the call wasn't exactly unexpected, but it obviously wasn't going to be any fun at all either.

And then, as soon as she settled down again, Rhiannon stumbled in, looking if possible even more exhausted than Tonks felt.

"Rhi!" she cried. "Thank heavens for that. Where were you?"

Rhiannon sank down on the other bed. "Chasing about setting people right, like you, I expect. And just now, telling the office what happened earlier on. About five bloody times, look you, until they were sure I hadn't missed anything."

Tonks pricked up her ears. "What did happen?" she said carefully. "One moment you were over with Dawlish and Crouch, then the next moment that ... skull went up in the air and you'd gone."

"Yeah. As soon as that happened, Crouch nearly blew his top. Shouted to everyone around him 'Follow me!' and they all Disapparated. Dawlish sort of rolled his eyes and said to us all 'And what are you lot waiting for?' so we went after them into the woods ..." She trailed off.

Tonks looked at her in exasperation. "And? What happened when you got there? Who cast the blasted thing?"

"Well ..." Rhiannon sighed, but described her evening succinctly, with a smoothness borne of having had plenty of practice already that night. When she'd finished, Tonks stared at her in open-mouthed disbelief.

"Ooookay ... let me see if I got this. Whoever cast it was right next to the Boy-Who-Lived and his mates at the time, and used his wand. And the wand was in the hands of the only person you found on the scene of the crime, which was Barty Crouch's house-elf, who claimed she didn't know anything. Then Crouch took her into custody personally without letting you interrogate her, and promised to clothe her as punishment?"

"Pretty much."

"What the hell?"

Rhiannon threw up her arms in a gesture that suggested both complete absence of understanding and a strong desire not to discuss the subject any further tonight. "Your guess is as good as mine, Tonks. The office didn't believe me either, the first three times. Claymore is probably scribbling his way through a stack of purple memos as we speak. Can we leave it till morning now and at least try to get a few hours sleep?"

"Yeah, sure. I set the alarm for nine. Gives us plenty of time to wake up, and we can Apparate straight there. Someone else will have to do the Obliviation if anyone sees us."

"Right. Goodnight then. Sweet dreams."

I really hope so, thought Tonks as she settled down. After tonight's shenanigans, it might be sweet nightmares.