Nymphadora Tonks and the Liquor of Jacmel

32. A Very Black Family History

Thursday 24^th September 1994

"Hi, Mum!"

"Nymphadora?" Andromeda Tonks glanced up from the book she was reading as her daughter walked into the lounge, smiling at her. If her mother noticed that the smile wasn't entirely natural, she didn't let on. "I thought it was early for Ted to be back yet. Come here, darling."

She sprang up and embraced her daughter with affection; Tonks eventually managed to detach herself and take a seat. "Fifi LaFolle again?" she said, glancing at the book her mother had left on the table, this time with a completely unforced grin. "Mum! Honestly, if anyone knew you read that stuff, they'd never let you live it down."

"I don't care if they do," said Andromeda trenchantly. "I like it, it's escapist fun, and I notice you haven't returned my copy of The Heart's Plenty yet."

"Oops. Forgot about that. I'll owl it back to you as soon as I get home." Before someone sees it and gets the wrong idea. "It's not really my thing."

"Hmm. I'm not sure about that. You aren't getting ... sentimental about that new young man of yours, are you Nymphadora? You haven't brought him round to see us."

Well, we've only been going out a few weeks, I don't want to scare the poor bloke off just yet ... "No, I'm not getting sentimental! I've been busy at work, as you know. I wanted to talk to you about that, actually."

"Good." Andromeda gave her daughter a very amused look. "I was wondering when you were going to get round to telling me what actually happened after you and the man in the picture left."

"Give me a chance, Mum," said Tonks in an injured tone. "We didn't make the arrest till the early hours of this morning ..." She quickly outlined the previous day's sequence of events for the benefit of her mother, ending by saying, "Oh, and Cassius Scrimgeour sends you his regards and his thanks. Said he met you years ago - you said you knew him, didn't you?"

"Rather vaguely, dear." She crinkled her brow, trying to remember. "I can recall him as friendly enough, but I wouldn't have seen him very often. After all, he didn't exactly make a very popular marriage as far as my family was concerned." She laughed. "Of course, neither did I when you come right down to it, darling, so I'm hardly going to obsess about bloodlines the way Mother and Father did - let alone your great-aunt. I left all that behind a long time ago."

Tonks pricked up her ears at this unexpected reminiscence. She realised, on brief consideration, that she was most unlikely to get a better cue to discuss what she really wanted to discuss.

"Actually, Mum, I wanted to talk to you about that ..." she began.

Andromeda's eyebrows shot up. "Nymphadora! How serious are things with this young man of yours?"

"What? No, not that!" said Tonks, reddening slightly. "I didn't want to talk about that!"

"Well, darling, what did you want to talk about then?" asked her mother in a mystified tone.

"I wanted to ..." Tonks stopped, took a deep breath, carefully avoided looking directly at her mother, and spoke as calmly as she could. "Actually, Mum, I wanted ... to ask you about ... um, about Uncle Sirius."

After a few seconds of complete silence from the other chair, she couldn't help but look round. Her mother was sitting frozen, not blinking, barely even seeming to breathe.

"Mum?" she said uncertainly, then started as her mother abruptly jumped up from the chair and strode out into the kitchen. Tonks followed her slowly and with a certain amount of trepidation. That reaction didn't bode well.

She stopped in the doorway; her mother was by the window, staring out at the garden; there was the slightest hint of a tremble in her shoulders but otherwise she was standing perfectly still. She didn't even acknowledge the noise of Tonks' slight trip on the rug as she reached the door.

"Mum?" she said again. When she didn't get a reaction, she opened her mouth again. "Er, Mu -"

"I knew you'd ask." Her mother hadn't turned around, but her comment, spoken so quietly it took Tonks a moment to register it, silenced her daughter as effectively as a shout. "I thought you'd want to talk when he escaped ... but you didn't ask then, and I counted myself lucky." She still didn't turn. "Then when they ... they ..." - she swallowed, hard - "when they saw him near here, I knew you'd have to ask because of your job. I just wasn't expecting you to ask right now. Silly me. I suppose I should have."

Tonks caught her breath. This situation was one in which she was very much feeling her way. It was, after all, a subject that had been a Hippogriff in the corner of the room for thirteen years, one that her mother had made very clear she didn't wish to discuss. From her reaction now, it also seemed to be one that cut her to the quick. "I didn't have to, Mum," she said gently. "I wanted to. I ... well, I need to know. For me. Not for the Department."

"You obviously already know what he did." It was a statement, not a question. "When did you first learn, Nymphadora? Surely not from the newspapers this year? In your training? Gossip at school? Or did you ignore our advice back when it happened and look at the newspaper then?"

"Yeah, I did look at the paper when it happened," said Tonks steadily. She refused to apologise for that. "And I cried like mad. But I'd have been told by the other kids if I hadn't looked, anyway. You know what school's like."

"I suppose I do."

Tonks approached her mother cautiously. "I want to hear what you thought, Mum. I never saw how you handled it at the time. I was away at school, and by the time I got back home for the Christmas holidays, it was all over, and it was clear you didn't want to talk about it." She hesitated. "And it was clear - even to me as a kid - that it hurt you. Somewhere deep. Every time anyone mentioned anything anywhere near the subject, you'd tense up. I suppose I just got used to not thinking about it for years."

"And now?"

"And now I know ..." She stopped herself in time; the details she knew from Kingsley could wait for the telling, and very possibly should not be told. "I know I want to know about it. It's time for us to talk about it, Mum. Please ..."

Tonks reached out, intending to put an arm around her mother, and was startled when she abruptly turned round to face her. Her face was pale, but had a set, grim expression. "Very well," she said. "Yes, Nymphadora, it did hurt me. It hurt me then and it hurts me now. You couldn't know how or why it hurts so much, you were too young to know and I made damn sure you weren't raised the same way as me. But you're right. It's time we had a talk."

She strode back into her lounge with her head held high and sat down on one end of the sofa, gesturing to a following Tonks to sit at the other end.

"So what do you want to ask?" she said abruptly.

Just as she'd been with Kingsley, Tonks found herself with so many questions now that she had an opportunity to ask that she didn't know which one to ask first. "Everything, Mum," she said gently. "Everything you want to tell me, anyway. Just ... just make me understand why it hurts you so much."

Andromeda smiled grimly. "I'm not sure you can understand without being brought up the way I was. Without knowing what things were like then."

"Try me, why don't you? I'm not eleven any more, Mum. I'm a grown woman. I'm an Auror, for heaven's sake!"

"Yes, that's true," she answered slowly. "I forget sometimes, darling. Or rather I'd like to forget, because it scares me that my only child is doing what she's doing at such risk ..."

"We've been over that a million times, Mum ..."

"I know. And I've managed to handle it. Give me a chance, darling ... God knows I'm proud of you for doing this, for wanting to do this. You always were one to throw yourself into fights. Very like ... him."

Tonks stilled. "Uncle Sirius?"

"Yes."

"Tell me what he was like, Mum," she said softly. "Tell me what he was really like, to a grown-up. Tell me what you thought of him."

Andromeda leant back in her chair and gazed into the distance. "I never really thought much about bloodlines when I was a young child," she said, apparently unaware that her comment seemed like a complete non sequitur. "There was just family, and people we approved of, and people we didn't, and I never even bothered to wonder why. So when I left home for school, I made friends with all sorts of people, without really thinking about who they were or where they came from, and it took me a while to realise why some people in my House - and out of it - were giving me funny looks from time to time. I mean, it's an old, old story, isn't it? Oh, now I know how these things work, as an adult, but then it was a real surprise to me."

"You knew the pure-blood stuff was stupid even then, though," said Tonks; pleased with her mother's answer, even if she wasn't quite sure how it related to Sirius Black.

"Do you know, I'm not sure I did?" said Andromeda. "I probably thought it was a good idea on the whole, I just didn't think it was important enough to be worth making such a fuss about. Your grandparents didn't like that at all. Neither did" - she took a deep breath - "your aunt Bella. It sounds dreadful to say this, but in some ways I'm almost glad that she was such a stickler on the subject? We were so close in age that we couldn't help being rivals, and I always used to go against whatever it was she wanted."

"That was all?" said Tonks, shocked.

"No, it wasn't all," snapped Andromeda. She composed herself visibly. "Give me some credit, Nymphadora! It wasn't easy to shake off that kind of upbringing. Or even to want to, really, not until I had reason to decide one way or the other."

"Sorry, Mum," said Tonks quietly, abashed. "What made your mind up then?"

Andromeda laughed. "What do you think? I got to know your father, of course. And, well, we fell in love - but teenagers do that all the time, don't they? Nothing out of the ordinary, we didn't know if it would last. But fairly soon, I realised I had to decide if I loved him enough. Whether I had the decency and the guts to stand up in front of the people I knew and tell them I didn't care and they could go to hell if they didn't like who I was with." She paused for a moment, with an odd look that held a little defiance, a little nervousness, and a touch of pride. "I'm glad to say I found out I did. We went away, we got married, we had you, darling, and don't you ever, ever think I regret it. I didn't realise just how stultifying it had been at home until I left it."

"How did Granny and Granddad Black take it? They never seemed that fond of me."

Her mother snorted. "Your grandparents? They completely disapproved, what do you think? They were usually tight-lipped whenever they had to talk to me after that, and they almost never managed a civil word for your father if they spoke to him at all. I didn't like things being like that, but we all made our own choices, so ..." She smiled broadly. "I remember Mummy and Daddy telling me, in tones of hushed horror, that I'd actually been struck off the family tapestry by Aunt Walburga. Frankly, that was the least of my concerns."

"What family tapestry?"

"Mm? Oh, it's in the house in Grimmauld Place, the one they've never let you or Ted into. Believe me, darling, you haven't missed much. It took up one whole wall - generations of us Blacks, from the Late Association Ages onwards. I'm certain they wouldn't have missed little me. Or Siri ..." She paused. "Well, I suppose she might have put him back again."

Tonks pricked up her ears at the sound of the conversation returning to where she wanted it to be. "Uncle Sirius was struck off this thing too? Why?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you, darling," said Andromeda, clucking her tongue in slight irritation. She paused, obviously needing to steel herself. "At the time, he was just about the only member of the family anywhere near my age who didn't seem to care much about the Precious Black Name, or the crucial significance of having pure blood either. We didn't see each other that often, but it felt nice to know I had an ally around. He felt the same way. Well, I thought he did."

"And then ...?"

"And then ... oh come on, darling, what do you think?" She scowled. "We heard the news that You-Know-Who had suddenly disappeared, completely out of the blue; and after the first celebrations I just felt giddy with relief, knowing that the people I cared about weren't in danger from him any more. And yes, that included Sirius. I was sure he was involved in the fight in some way. Then I heard more, and realised it had been his friends who were killed in the attack, and I felt sad for him; I wanted to find my poor little cousin and comfort him." She spat out the word 'comfort' as if it had been an expletive. "And then, we heard the next day about what he'd done and that poor young man who found him, and all those Muggles he'd killed for no reason ..."

"And then ..." Tonks repeated as her mother trailed off.

Andromeda grimaced. "And then, Ted tells me I went quite hysterical for several hours ... oh yes, I've talked with your father about it, Nymphadora," she said, lips twitching faintly at her daughter's surprise. "Though not until recent events, admittedly. I felt so betrayed I simply blanked it out - blanked him out - and got on with my life. I decided I had all the family I wanted right here with me." She hesitated. "I trusted him, darling," she said simply. "I would have trusted him with my life. Worse, I'd have trusted him with your life. I couldn't bear the thought of having been so wrong about something so important."

"I never quite thought about it that way," said Tonks in realisation.

"How did you think about him, Nymphadora?" Her mother's reluctance to discuss the subject seemed to be breaking down as she talked; Tonks detected almost a hint of eagerness in her now. "I never knew how much of an impression he made on you, because you barely knew him."

"I didn't?" said Tonks in surprise. "Are you sure? The way I remember it, he seemed to visit us a lot."

Andromeda smiled wryly. "Well then, he must have made quite a big impression! You'd only have met him what, once a year or so?" Tonks felt her jaw drop and saw her mother's smile change into curiosity. "What was he like to you as a child? Could you tell? Or did you like him?"

Tonks sat back on her half of the sofa. "I did, actually. He was this" - she bit her lip - "oh I don't know, Mum, this sort of really cool uncle, who came round and teased me a bit and I couldn't help but like him and remember him. I suppose it must have registered somewhere deep down that he didn't seem to mind what we were ... but mostly he was just ... well ... fun." She thought back, trying to examine long-ago feelings. "I always felt like we had this special secret we shared, all of us? I kind of thought that he was here and his mum and dad wouldn't like it, but he still came to see us anyway without telling them. It was ... fun," she finished limply. She hadn't realised until she'd begun talking to her mother just how vague her recollections of her cousin really were after all these years; in fact impressions more than memories, of a tall man with the Black family black hair who played with her and joked with her mother and seemed happy to meet them.

"Yes, he was fun," said her mother sadly. "He'd left home by then, didn't you realise?"

"He had?" Tonks blinked. "Why didn't he come to stay?"

"Oh, he had ... his own friends, darling. They always seemed a very tight little group, as far as I could tell. But you must know what happened to them by now - probably better than me, if you've looked in the case files." There was a tinge of bitterness there at the thought, it seemed, and Tonks realised that she would probably have to tell her mother a little of what she knew, even if only to conceal the rest.

"Yeah, I have," she said in a confessional tone. "The reports I saw said they were all supposed to be like brothers, and no-one who knew them could quite believe what happened." She hesitated. "What did you make of them, Mum?"

"I didn't really know them," she replied, to Tonks' disappointment. "I vaguely remember them being with him at school, but of course he was years below me and in a different House so we didn't mix that much. He only ever brought them round here once, and that was" - she paused for a moment and continued with a catch in her voice - "just about the last time I saw him before ... it happened. The way he used to talk about them, they were closer than his own brother. He always spoke about poor little Regulus with such contempt!"

"Yeah? Was he the one I never met? The one who became a Death Eater?"

Andromeda winced. "Yes. Foolish boy. Sirius hated that - well, he pretended to. That must have been another lie, I suppose. For all I know, he got him into it." She shrugged helplessly. "His friends though - I mean, I never even knew one of them was a werewolf until I read it in the Prophet back in June. It seemed like just the sort of thing he'd have done, making friends with one, just to spite his parents." She looked at her daughter shrewdly. "I saw he was teaching at Hogwarts while Sirius was ... well, doing what he did there. Is there anything you know about it that didn't make the papers?"

More than you think ... Her mother had asked her question in an even tone of voice, but Tonks thought she could detect an underlying hint of pain at the idea that Uncle Sirius had been trying to commit yet another murder. She briefly considered how much she could tell, and decided on a rather oblique approach; bracing herself for the probable impact of her words.

"Lupin? Yes there is ... Did you know he's convinced Uncle Sirius is innocent?"

The look of mixed shock and indignation on Andromeda's face was entirely as expected.

"Innocent?" she spluttered. "How can he be innocent? There were dozens of witnesses!"

"Yes, but ..." Tonks briefly outlined the story that Lupin had told about Uncle Sirius, Pettigrew, the Shrieking Shack and the children; and if she added to it a few details that came from Kingsley's information, she wasn't going to worry too much about that. Her mother listened to it with a gradually dropping jaw. "All this is in confidence, Mum - like you said, it didn't make the papers - but well, that was the story. What do you reckon?"

"I ... I don't ... I don't know." Her mother looked absolutely stunned. "You can't tell me your colleagues believe that, surely? How can anyone trust this Lupin, knowing what he is, knowing that he kept it all hidden?"

There's more to it than that, Mum, more people who think he might be innocent, but I really, really can't tell you about that ... "It does kind of fit some of the background," she said cautiously. "Old Snape - you remember, he taught me? - confirms part of it. And the kids survived it, Mum. If he really had spent a year trying to kill Harry Potter, why didn't he just finish him off there and then when he had him at wandpoint and his friends as well?" The next revelation had her treading on very thin ice, but had to be said. "There are one or two Aurors who are at least considering the possibility that it might be the truth, even if that doesn't mean they're convinced by it either. It would be the professional thing to do, wouldn't it?" That was literally true; she just wasn't going to mention that she and Kingsley were those 'one or two Aurors', and that although it would be the professional thing to do, their investigations on the matter were entirely private.

"And you ..."

"I'm not sure, but I can't not consider the possibility, can I?" Her voice had risen more than she'd intended, and she had to force herself to speak more calmly. "That's why I've been wanting to talk to you, Mum. It's just never felt right from what little I can remember of him. Because ... I suppose I trusted him too, Mum," she finished plaintively.

"I ... I ..."

She wasn't sure how long it might have taken her mother to recover the power of speech as expressions chased themselves across her face - the first shock clearly giving way first to an odd hopefulness, then quite clearly to anger at being made to think in that way - but they were interrupted by a sudden crack from outside.

Tonks glanced up to see her father walking through the door. He looked at his white-faced wife and nervous daughter in some surprise. "Annie?" he said uncertainly. "Princess? What's up?"

"Oh, nothing really, Dad," said Tonks in a strained voice. "We were just talking about ... erm, my Uncle Sirius."

"Oh." There was a world of dawning comprehension in that single syllable. He moved over to the sofa to sit between his womenfolk and put an arm around each, drawing them into a hug and making both smile. "Good or bad moment for me to walk in?"

"Not too bad, Dad," Tonks told him. "We had rather a lot to say."

"I can't say I'm not pleased to hear that," he said quietly, turning to his wife. "I know it's been cutting you up all year, Annie. I just didn't quite know what to say to you."

"Of course you didn't, Ted," she said, with a tentative smile. "You're a man."

"Hey, that's enough cheek," he said, returning the smile and kissing her lightly on the forehead. "Did you hear what you wanted to hear or not?"

Mother and daughter exchanged looks. "You tell him, darling," said Andromeda.

*****

Friday 25^th September 1994

Tonks made sure to get into work bright and early the following morning to give herself some extra thinking time. Her father had been as shocked as her mother to hear what she had to say about the man that he'd known casually, but never felt as close to as his wife or daughter. But after an evening of explanations, tears, reminiscences and many things that had been left unspoken, and in the course of which Tonks had been over the material she was able to tell them many times, she found to her unease that she herself was becoming half-convinced that the story she'd been told really might be the truth. There were certainly holes in the official story that were big enough to drive the Knight Bus through, and that wasn't even taking into account what Kingsley had told her.

She couldn't shake off the feeling that she really should do something about it, and was thoroughly grateful for the case work they had on hand. She needed it to keep her from getting herself into real trouble.

Her parents had reluctantly agreed to let her handle it. She was sure that most of the reluctance was because they themselves wanted to investigate as much as she did - although she suspected that part of it was that they still found it hard to realise their daughter was now an grown woman, able to take responsibility for handling such things on behalf of the family. She smiled to herself. One of these days, it was going to sink in.

"Knut for your thoughts?"

She glanced up. Cassius was looking at her enquiringly.

"Nah, they're not worth the money," she said quickly. "What's the agenda for today, Cassius?"

"Well, your thoughts have been quite valuable so far," he said mildly. "In fact, I might even go as high as a couple of Sickles for them if you have any good ideas on where we go from here."

"I wish I did," she told him. "How did it go with Charlotte Perks?"

"Oh, not as bad as it might have done," he said with a grin. "She was in high dudgeon, of course, and I had to endure a strident little lecture on 'unreasonable suspicions' and 'violation of the Wizengamot Charter of Rights'. So I suggested that she was perfectly entitled to bring a complaint, and have the case heard publicly so that Portia could tell everyone she had an alibi. At that point it seemed to dawn on her that it might not be a good idea to press the matter after all." He smiled beatifically. "So she accepted a humble apology for detaining her these last couple of weeks, and went on her way. I'm so glad to have helped."

Tonks grinned back at him. "Nice one, Cassius. So that's one curse we've dodged, then. Do you think she was really telling the truth?"

"Under the Veritaserum?" He shrugged. "I find it hard to believe, but I can't really find a good alternative. There are ways around it, as you know, but none of them are easy, and there was no evidence that she'd used any of them. Sometimes, everything you assumed about a case is simply wrong and you have to start again from scratch. Another lesson for you to learn," he concluded with a wry smile.

Tonks winced. You're not kidding. I'm learning that one well.

"Anyway, Donnacha and Arnold are out keeping an eye on Charlotte and Portia," continued Cassius, unaware that his words held a double meaning for Tonks. "Much good may it do us, but you never know, I suppose. I think we've completely lost out chance to get a warrant for Portia now, but I'll ask. Then I'll go over the statements again, see if there's anything we missed."

"What would you like me to do?" asked Tonks, hoping it might be something a little more interesting than paperwork.

Cassius seemed to pick up on this. "I do have a couple of errands for you, actually," he said. "First of all, I'd like you to go and see that friend of yours from the World Cup who's in Magical Creatures, and see when he can arrange for us to visit that Arkwright chap incognito. I can't see why he'd be friendly with Ashford again all of a sudden and buying cages from him - it's a loose end to tie up, and it's one of the few we've got at the moment."

"Fair enough. He seemed to think he could swing it. They do snap inspections of the place every now and again anyway."

"Good. After that, you can drop in at International Magical Co-operation and chase them up about the records of people travelling to and from the Caribbean. I'm tired of sending them memos to be ignored. It might be easier to get some action from them on the subject now, there's been a report that ..." He broke off suddenly, and looked quite embarrassed.

"A report that what?" she asked, puzzled.

"Well, um, a report that Sirius Black had been seen out there a little while ago?" he said apologetically. "A fairly convincing one this time, in point of fact, from someone who actually knew him as a young man. I'm sorry, Tonks, I know it's a sore point with you, but really it is a useful bit of leverage and I need you to be able to deal with it. If You-Know-Who's former right-hand man had any connection with this trade, that would not be a situation I would like."

She groaned inwardly. "That's OK, Cassius. Leave it to me."

*****

Tonks poked her head around the door of the outer office of the Department of International Magical Co-operation and looked about her with open curiosity. The room was smaller than she'd expected it to be, and at the moment it seemed almost deserted. She glanced at her watch, which said half-past twelve, so it seemed like a reasonable assumption that everyone had gone for lunch.

The only person still at their desk was a red-haired young man that she vaguely remembered as having accompanied Barty Crouch to the World Cup briefing. He had a sandwich in one hand and was scribbling rapid notes on a piece of parchment with the other; but he looked up as she entered.

"Hi!" she said brightly. "I think I've seen you before, you're Mr Weatherby, aren't you?"

"Percy Weasley, actually," he said stiffly. "Junior Assistant Head of Department. How may I help you?"

"Oh sorry, must have remembered wrong. Oh, hang on a minute, Weasley ... you must be related to Arthur Weasley, works down the hall from us?"

"That's my father," he said, unbending enough to nod. "Erm - just where is it you work, Miss ..."

"Tonks. Auror office. I've seen your dad pass through quite a lot."

"Tonks? Oh I remember ..." There was the merest suggestion of a twitch at the side of his mouth, which he hastily suppressed. "Of course, we in the Department of International Magical Co-operation are always willing to assist the Auror Office in any way we can. Whom did you wish to see?"

"Mr Crouch, please. Is he in?"

Percy Weasley clucked his tongue, and - to her surprise - seemed slightly uneasy. "Yes, but he is a very busy man, Miss Tonks. Is this matter important for the prevention of crime?"

"We think so. We've had credible reports that Sirius Black" - she managed to say the name with barely any need to steel herself - "has been seen in the Caribbean, and we know other parties have been travelling there to pick up dodgy potions, but whatever the equivalent of the Ministry is out there haven't got round to making the travel records available yet. We really need someone from your office to use a bit of clout and tell them to get their fingers out, and it would be best if it came from Crouch himself, wouldn't it? I think Cassius Scrimgeour has sent memos round about it."

"Oh, I see." He couldn't restrain a wince at the way Tonks described the Aurors' requirements. "Yes, I remember those ... In that case, I suppose ..." He rose and escorted her over to a mahogany door at the end of the room. "I don't wish to overburden Mr Crouch, he really does have a lot on his plate, Miss Tonks, but this is such a simple matter he can probably arrange it for you ..." He still looked unhappy, but knocked on the door firmly enough.

"Yes?" came an irritable voice from within. Tonks swallowed, remembering their previous encounters, and decided to concentrate very hard on not tripping over anything.

"Percy Weasley, sir," said her companion eagerly. "There's a Miss Tonks here to see you from the Auror office."

"What does she want?" The voice this time was unmistakably edgy..

"It's about that request for liaison with the Caribbean authorities ..."

"Oh I see. Send her in."

Percy opened the door and ushered Tonks in, then stepped back out of the room with a bow that looked unnecessarily formal. Crouch nodded to her; fortunately, he didn't seem to recognise her, and she breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

"Thank you for agreeing to see me, Mr Crouch," she said hastily. "It's rather urgent, what with the Sirius Black situation" - she was getting used to saying that by now - "and the Death Eaters and everything." Crouch sat back as she gave a quick run-through of the situation; he barely reacted to what she was saying, and she had an odd feeling that he wasn't really listening, but he did nod once at the end.

"Yes. Very well. I'll get young Westoby out there - no, Weatherby, no ... ah ... what was I saying again?"

"Er - young Weasley, your junior assistant head of department?" she said, feeling slightly alarmed.

"Junior Assistant to the Head Of Department," he said with a touch of asperity. "Oh yes, yes ... I'll get him to draft a memo for me to sign, will that be sufficient?"

"Yes, sir. Of course."

"Very well." He waved her away. "I'll send it round. Good day to you, Miss Tomkins."

"Ton ... er, yes, Mr Crouch. Thank you." A sudden thought hit her on the way out and she turned back to face him. She wasn't likely to get another opportunity to ask. "Um, Mr Crouch ..."

"Yes?"

She bit her lip. "Just wondering ... we were talking about Sirius Black ... weren't you the one who signed the Emergency Powers Azkaban warrant for him? Definitely guilty?" At the stony expression on his face, she added quickly, "Couldn't have been under You-Know-Who's control or anything, then?"

Crouch gave a peculiar little start, and snapped at her, "No he wasn't! I had no hesitation in signing that warrant on the evidence, and as far as I'm concerned Sirius Black was not only as guilty as they come but acted like it, whatever story he told. Is that all?"

"Yes sir," she said, mildly abashed. It had been a long shot and she couldn't really hope for more. Clearly not everyone was going to be convinced by any new evidence there might be "Thanks for the memo."

She stopped by Percy Weasley's desk on the way out to tell him what Crouch had agreed to (as she had a nasty suspicion that his boss might forget if she didn't). He nodded and started to jot down notes immediately.

"Thanks," she said. "Erm - Mr Weasley?"

"Yes?" He looked up.

"Old Crouch - is he, well - all right?"

"Mr Crouch? All right? He is a brilliant man who is doing an excellent job as Head of this Department in very trying times!" he said indignantly. At her raised eyebrows, he added, "But he is a bit under strain, yes. The unfortunate events at the World Cup - after all our preparations - hit him rather hard, and" - he dropped his voice - "he was even forced to dismiss his house-elf for gross disobedience, and so he doesn't even have her to help him out at home now. I keep telling him he should let me do more of the work."

Tonks suppressed a grin. I bet you do. "Oh well, never mind," she said, winking at Percy. "As long as he stays upright long enough to sign that memo we won't object if he takes a bit of time off."

She noticed the redhead's scandalised expression and made a hasty exit before she started to giggle.

*****

"How did it go?" asked Cassius when she returned to the office.

"Sorted," said Tonks. "IMC are going to chase them up in the Caribbean."

"Good. No trouble?"

"Not really, but ..." She described the interview with Crouch, hesitating slightly before mentioning the impression she'd got at the time. "He did look a bit odd, you know. A bit like ... well, like that Barton bloke who was under Jacmel, to be honest."

"Barty Crouch?" said Cassius in surprise. "I sincerely hope not! It would need something very powerful to affect him, I'd have thought."

"His assistant did say he was under a lot of strain ..."

"That's probably all there is to it then. I'll make a few discreet inquiries just in case, though. How did it go in Magical Creatures?

"Yeah, that was OK too. Will Poppleford said he can probably fix something up round about the end of next week. Sound all right to you?"

"Yes. Well, it's a start anyway." He looked at the piles of parchment on his desk and his lips quirked. "But that's days away, so guess what I want you to do now?"

"Paperwork?" asked Tonks with a sinking feeling.

"Yes indeed. You take one set of interview notes, I'll take one, let's see if we can work through the lot before your friend Will gets in touch."

She picked up the sheaf that Cassius handed her and groaned. There had better be something worth remembering in here she thought as she started on the first one. It would take her a while to realise that indeed there was.