Dumbledore's Secret

Chapter 17

Staring sullenly out of Amelia Bones' office window, Tonks muttered, "I don't understand, Madam."

The head of the Magical Law Enforcement Agency sighed. "According to the new regulations ..."

"Which," Tonks interrupted, crossing her arms, "weren't in effect when Kingsley and I left yesterday ..."

"Nevertheless, the current climate is such that ..."

Tonks huffed. "I can't believe this! We're being suspended for doing our jobs?"

"Look," Bones said irritably. "I'm only trying to do my job. And besides, need I remind you that Shacklebolt is now in St. Mungo's, thanks to your recklessness?"

Tonks flushed. "You're blaming me for the death eaters' attack?" she protested, though without much vigor. She knew that her superior was absolutely correct. If she hadn't left Kingsley stranded ...

"You know that's not what I mean!" Bones retorted. "Tonks, let's be realistic here. Were I any other department head, you'd be fired right now, if not for reckless disregard of safety regulations, then certainly for your bad attitude. You and Shacklebolt have been, as of late, rather secretive about your activities here. You have not been following the appropriate chain of command. Chief Moody tells me he did not know of your whereabouts, and you did not file a report about your mission." Bones gave her a hard look. "Perhaps if you'd tell me why you went ..."

Tonks pursed her lips. "As I said already, we'd had a lead about possible death eater activities ..."

"And yet you were unprepared for an attack."

"It was only a reconnaissance mission. We didn't expect to be attacked in a muggle café of all places."

"And why exactly do you think they attacked there? Were they following you?"

"They followed our contact."

"Whose name was ..."

Tonks groaned. "Please, Madam Bones, you've always respected our need for confidentiality in the past ... you know that as field agents we need some autonomy ..."

"Well, apparently, past regulations were getting us nowhere. Minister Odgen believes we need a new approach." Bones sighed, and her face softened. "Perhaps he's right ... things have only gotten worse under my tenure here."

Tonks' anger subsided as she studied the older woman. Amelia Bones had always been somewhat of a role model for Tonks; she was a powerful witch who'd risen to prominence through a great deal of hard work and a no-nonsense attitude. "Madam, you know that's not true. Fudge was working against us all of last year. You can hardly be faulted for that."

Bones sighed again. "Yes, I suppose so." Then her face hardened into its professional mask. "And that is why, Tonks, we have to work so closely with Minister Odgen. Finally, we have a minister who is eager to deal with the death eaters. Whatever we may feel about his individual policies, we have to remember that we are all on the same side."

Tonks looked away and said nothing.

Bones gave her a searching look, then said quietly, "Indeed, that is why I must suggest to you, Tonks, that you tell me again why you went to Germany yesterday. I do not think you were acting in the interests of the Ministry."

It took every ounce of Tonks' training to keep the emotion from her face. "I don't know what you mean, Madam. Kingsley and I were following a potential lead on practicioners of dark magic. I believe that is exactly what I've been assigned to do."

"You've been assigned to follow orders. And I did not give any order, or approve any general action, remotely resembling the mission you and Shacklebolt pursued yesterday. You were reckless, out of line, and acting rather like rogue agents instead of ministry officials." She paused, then added softly, "It is time we all act together, under one leader. I think you should deliver that message to the appropriate person."

Tonks said again, "I don't know what you mean."

"That's too bad. If you did, and if you were willing to agree to follow ministry guidelines from here on out, I might consider waiving your suspension."

Tonks hesitated. It was obvious that Bones knew she was working for someone else ... Bones probably even knew that it was Dumbledore. If Tonks went along with Bones, she could be back on the force today, and wouldn't that do more good for the Order than her being stuck on the sidelines for three weeks? But, then again, Bones would watch her closely; she might even try to get her to talk about who else was in the Order. And while Tonks believed Amelia Bones had the nation's best interests at heart, she did not trust the Ministry as a whole; she certainly didn't trust Odgen. And she couldn't risk exposing any other members of the Order.

"Sorry, Madam, but I must repeat, I don't know what you mean."

Bones stood up and said angrily, "Very well then. Three weeks suspension without pay. You'll turn your badge in to Chief Moody within the hour."

Tonks stood as well, nodding curtly to her department head.

Just as Tonks passed through the doorway, Bones called out, "Oh, and Tonks."

The Auror turned around and glared.

"You'll be reassigned when you return."

Gaping, Tonks managed, "Reassigned? What do you mean?"

"The Department of Magical Creatures has requested the assistance of a few of our people to help enforce the newest regulations. You seem like just the Auror for the job."

Tonks clenched her fists so tightly that her knuckles cracked. She would not be a party to rounding up innocent people and branding them like animals. Ripping the badge from her robe, she said, "You can keep my ..." But then she stopped. She couldn't just quit; the Order needed her.

"What were you saying?" Bones asked, her eyes glinting.

Tonks's hands shook as she clutched her badge and said, "Yes, Madam."

"Very good. You're dismissed."

Tonks spun around and left the room, slamming her boss's door behind her. Heading into the corridor that led to the Aurors' cubicles, she leaned her forehead against the cool stone wall, trying desperately to pull herself together. But her hands shook, and her eyes stung with tears.

"And so I said, just try me, scumbag! The idiot was shaking in his boots!"

Tonks' head snapped up. She knew that arrogant, obnoxious voice only too well. With an inward groan, she glanced down the hallway and saw John Deickman heading toward her. A fellow Auror, he was one of the most offensive men she'd ever met; not a day went by when he didn't try to cop a feel. She'd lost count of how many times he'd asked her to have a drink with him ("And that will be just the prelude, babe!"). Sometimes, she was almost tempted to give in, just so he'd stop pestering her.

She was certainly in no mood to deal with him today. So, before he'd looked away from his companion (poor man looked bored to tears), she morphed into the shape of an old woman. Normally, she changed only her hair, perhaps the color of her eyes; it took a lot out of her to change her body shape and facial features. But to avoid Deickman, she'd do almost anything.

Tonks headed down the hallway, confident he'd never recognize her. She was only a few feet away from Deickman when she stopped in surprise. Behind the two men, just getting off the elevator, was Remus. At the sight of him, some of her anger at being suspended faded. Though she'd heard others call him shabby and unkempt, she'd always found his scruffy hair and frayed robes to be rather appealing; he looked so much more natural, so much more human, than the majority of wizards, who often used both their magic and their money to make themselves seem flawless.

"Excuse me," he called out to the Aurors. The two men turned around.

"Yeah?" Deickman asked in a bored drawl.

"I'm looking for ..." He stopped, his eyes moving from the two men to her. He stared at her intently, then cocked an eyebrow, almost as if he recognized her.

Her lips parted in surprise.

"Yeah? I haven't got all day," Deickman said testily.

"Sorry, never mind," Remus said, a small smile on his lips.

Deickman shrugged, then he and his companion headed to the Aurors' cubicles without even a glance at Tonks. When she was sure they'd left the hallway, she said in her own voice, "How did you know? My face is completely different ..."

"You have a particular smell." He flushed and looked away. "I suppose there are some benefits to being ... what I am."

She quickly morphed back into her own face and body. Then she playfully lifted each of her arms and sniffed. "I hope it's not a bad smell."

He chuckled. "No, Tonks, it's a very good smell. Why were you in disguise? Were you on a mission?"

She managed a laugh. "Yeah, a mission to avoid Deickman - the guy you were just talking to. He's a real prick." Then she met his warm grey eyes and said hesitantly, "Remus, how are you? I mean ... have you seen today's copy of the Prophet..."

He nodded curtly. "I'm fine." Then his eyes focused on her face. "How are you?"

"Me?" She looked down at her feet. "I asked about you."

"Yeah." Taking a step toward her, he reached out and gently lifted her chin so that their eyes met. "But you look tired."

"Well, today hasn't been the best of days..." She paused, not wanting to talk about her suspension. "So, you got my owl then?"

"Yeah. It's great news about Kingsley."

She frowned. "Yes, it is, but ... well, he's got a long way to recovery."

"Was he able to tell you what happened?"

Tonks shook her head. "He hardly said anything at all. He was so ..." she bit her lip. "He was depressed! And Kingsley never gets depressed."

"Well, he'd almost been killed. It was probably a pretty traumatic experience."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"You don't sound convinced."

"Kinglsey's been injured before. He's been close to death before. There was something different about him this time, though. Usually, he's raring to go, more eager than ever to catch the bad guys ..." Her voice fell to a whisper. "I can't help but wonder if he's disappointed in me ... I should have been there for him ..."

He reached out and brushed her cheek with his hand. She trembled, and he immediately pulled away.

"No, I ..." she began.

But he interrupted her. "Look, you've got to be busy. I was just in the area and I thought I'd say hello."

He turned to go, and she grabbed his arm.

"Wait, don't go yet, please." She cringed at the pleading sound of her voice.

He met her eyes and said very quickly, "Do you want to grab a cup of coffee, maybe lunch?"

Suddenly, her suspension, Kingsley's disappointment in her, the ministry's stupid regulations, none of it seemed to matter quite so much. "Yes. Absolutely."

Her breath caught as she watched his lips form one of the most beautiful smiles she'd ever seen.

"Uh, but don't you need to be at work?"

"Huh? Oh, work." She turned and glared at the entrance to the Aurors' cubicles. Then she sighed. "I was suspended today. For three weeks."

"Suspended? For doing your job?"

She managed a chuckle. "That's exactly what I said."

"This is Odgen's doing, isn't it?" he said softly, looking around the corridor to make sure they were still alone.

She shrugged. "I don't know if he had anything to do with it directly, but yeah, he's really clamping down on the department. Though, my suspension is nothing in comparison with what he's doing to you."

Remus looked away. "Yeah, well, I've seen it coming. It's no surprise, really."

"Perhaps not, but it's bloody wrong!" Tonks said, her voice rising.

Remus raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry," she muttered. "I know you don't need me to get on my soapbox. It's a lot easier to complain about something that's not directly affecting you, I guess."

He shook his head. "No, actually, I was thinking the exact opposite. You'll be one of the few non-werewolves to voice that sentiment."

With a sigh, she said, "Well, that's depressing."

"Yes, it is." Then he smiled wryly. "So, let's not think about it. Right now, we're just two people going for a cup of coffee."

She returned his smile. "Or tea, in my case."

"Actually, mine too. I hate coffee. Don't know why I suggested it."

They grinned stupidly at each other before she blushed and looked away. "I guess I should ..." she said, pointing at the entrance to the aurors' cubicles.

He nodded, and she nearly skipped into the office.

"You're looking rather cheerful for being suspended," Mad Eye growled at her as she approached his desk.

Frowning, she tugged at her badge and threw it on his desk. "That's because this suspension is bollocks!"

Loudly enough that everyone in the small office area could hear, Mad Eye said, "I hope three weeks will be long enough for you to straighten up! We take these new regulations very seriously, and any attitudes like yours will not be tolerated!" Then, he leaned in and whispered, "Don't worry, Tonks. Bones has a lot of pressure on her."

"Yeah, but my reassignment ..." she muttered, looking at her feet.

"I'll convince her to bring you back here, don't worry." Then, he resumed his angry tone. "Get out of my face, Tonks. I don't want to see you back here until you've learned your lesson."

Tonks stomped out of the office, stopping only to grab her bag and keys from her cubicle. "What are you looking at?" she snapped to Deickman, who was gaping at her as she left the room.

"You okay?" Remus asked her softly when she emerged from the office.

She nodded, then managed a smile. "Thanks so much for coming by today. I'd be a lot worse off if you weren't here."

They decided on a café in Diagon Alley. "Miss Muppet's is famous for her sandwiches, too, if you're hungry," Tonks said as they entered the establishment.

"Just her sandwiches? What about her curds and whey?" Remus asked playfully.

Tonks lifted an eyebrow. "How do you know muggle nursery rhymes?"

"One of my grandmothers was a muggle," he explained as they sat at a table near the window. He looked out into the street and said, "She used to visit a lot when I was young."

"Is she still alive?" Tonks asked quietly. She knew that muggles didn't live as long as wizards. She worried increasingly about her muggle grandfather who, at 83, was starting to take too many medicines and tonics to make her - or her father - comfortable.

"No, at least ... I don't think so. I haven't seen her since I was bitten..." Remus's voice trailed off. Then he shrugged. "Never mind. What are you going to order?" he asked brightly, quickly scanning his menu.

Tonks sighed, then looked at her own menu. "Well, the chicken salad is pretty good. Just don't get it with jam."

Remus looked up in surprise. "Jam? On chicken salad?" He laughed. "What possessed you to order that?"

She rolled her eyes. "It was on a dare. I was only 7, so I was very susceptible to dares then. Stupid Sirius, he ..." She stopped. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, she murmured, "I forgot, for a moment, I forgot he was gone."

Remus said, his voice a little hoarse, "Finish the story."

"Uh, well, he was babysitting me one day ...he brought me here and he dared me to order the grossest foods I could think of. Actually, I think he wanted me to throw a fit so he could catch the attention of a cute waitress!" She grinned, lost in the memory. "Of course, he also agreed to order something disgusting ... I think he got ..." She stopped, catching the look of pain on Remus's face. "Remus, I'm so sorry."

He smiled sadly. "Why are you sorry? It sounds like a perfect Sirius story."

Tonks laughed weakly. "Yeah, it does, doesn't it? He was always daring everyone ..."

"Before he ... a few months ago, he dared me to ask you out, you know."

She raised an eyebrow. "So what, is this some sort of posthumous fulfillment of the dare?"

He flushed bright red. "No! I mean, that's not why I asked you ... he only dared me because he knew how much I liked you and ...Shit. I'm just going to shut up now."

Tonks laughed as he looked away sheepishly. Somehow, his discomfort made her feel quite bold. "Don't worry, Remus. I'll take this date however I can get it, dare or no dare."

He met her eyes and grinned.

Feeling even more confident, she said, "Was there anything else Sirius dared you to with me?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, and Remus burst out laughing.

After they had ordered, Tonks said, "Tell me why we didn't do this sooner."

Remus looked away. "I was never sure if you were interested ...I don't have much to offer you, Tonks." He choked out a self-deprecating laugh. "Until last month, I didn't even have a job."

Tonks reached across the table and grabbed his hand. "Listen, Remus," she said as his eyes found hers. "I don't know where this is going, if this is just a simple lunch or ... if it could possibly be something more. But in any case, I want you to know that it's always been you that I've been interested in ... not your job or your clothes or your age. And," she said, taking a deep breath, "I don't care about what happens to you one bloody night of the month. I don't care."

He gazed intently at her as he brushed his thumb across her knuckles. "That's a lovely thought, Tonks, but unfortunately, those things are as much a part of me as anything else. I can't escape any of it."

She shook her head fiercely. "Maybe not, but ... well, look at me. You could say I'm just a clumsy, inept auror who has weird taste in clothing and even weirder hairstyles. I know these things are part of me, but I'd like to think I'm much more than that!"

He opened his mouth to retort when their server brought their food.

"Sorry to interrupt," the waitress said sheepishly, glancing at their intertwined fingers as she put down the plates of food. Then she winked at Tonks. "Lucky girl!"

Tonks laughed as Remus's face reddened slightly. Reluctantly releasing his hand, Tonks said, "I am, aren't I?"

The waitress winked again before leaving them to their food.

"You were saying?" Tonks asked with a grin.

But Remus didn't respond. With his eyes focused on something behind her, he frowned.

"What's wrong ..." she asked, turning around to see what had caught his attention.

Behind their table was a long counter lined with high stools. Only one man, an older fellow with unkempt silver hair and a heavily lined face, sat there. His robes were far too baggy for his thin frame, and Tonks could see a gaping hole at the shoulder seam. He was looking at his feet as the server behind the counter said belligerently, "We only wait on human customers."

Tonks gasped and looked back at Remus, who continued to stare at the counter.

"But, I ..." the old man began. He reached into his robes and pulled out several bronze coins. "I have the money to pay ... I just want a cup of coffee."

"How many times do I have to tell you?" the server asked angrily. He looked out into the restaurant. "Shelly, tell him to get out of here, won't you?"

The waitress who had just winked at Tonks hurried over to the man and hissed, "Get of here, we don't serve your kind here. Now go!"

Remus stood up suddenly. "Why won't you serve him? He has the money," he said angrily.

Shelly looked over at him in surprise. "Don't you see what's on his robes?"

The man had gotten up from his stool and gave Remus a kindly smile. "Don't bother, son, don't bother."

Tonks stared at the man's robes. In the center of the robes was a bright red "W" surrounded by a circle of a similar color.

"You didn't answer my question," Remus said, his voice now shaking. "Why won't you serve him?"

"Are you blind?" the man behind the counter asked. "That W ... they're branding werewolves now. We only wait on humans here."

"He is human!" Remus nearly yelled.

"Look, why don't you calm down?" Shelly asked. "We're just making sure our customers our safe and comfortable. This is for your benefit, too."

Remus began to laugh. "For my benefit?"

Tonks stood up and took his arm. "Come on, let's get of here," she said. She glanced over at the old man and said quietly, "Want to join us?" The three of them headed for the door, ignoring the stares of the other customers.

"Wait, you've got to pay for that!" the man behind the counter said, pointing at their uneaten food.

"You don't serve werewolves," Tonks said over her shoulder. "Well, we don't pay bigots."

They walked in silence until they could no longer see the restaurant. Then, the old man turned and said, "I see you haven't gone to the ministry yet."

Tonks looked at the man in surprise. He was staring intently at Remus.

Remus shrugged. "They gave us 48 hours, I'll take it. You won't see me in there until the last possible minute."

The old man laughed bitterly. "Your own little protest, huh?"

"Do you two know each other?" Tonks asked in surprise.

Remus shook his head. "But we recognized ..."

"Oh yes," the man said, "we can always recognize each other. We're the ones who look old before our time and tired beyond belief. Watch out, son, watch out. They'll bring you down one way or another. Your little acts of defiance hurt no one except yourself."

Tonks said angrily, "Hey, he was trying to help you!"

The old man sneered at her. "How long will you stick around, huh? When everyone starts staring at the two of you, when your family and friends start telling you he's no good ..."

Tonks blanched. "You don't know anything about us."

"Oh, I know all about you. I've seen it a million times. It's always the same."

Remus shook his head almost frantically. "Tell me your name. We should band together, fight this. There are others like us, we can ..."

The man snorted. "You'll lose your idealism soon enough, boy. Go get your mark. Get it over with. Better you stopped pretending." Then he turned and walked away without another word.

Tonks watched him until he disappeared from sight. "I can't believe ..." She stopped and looked up at Remus. He was gazing into the distance, his face stony. "Listen, my place is not far from here. I have tea and sandwiches and ... it won't be as good of course, but..."

He nodded curtly. She led him through Diagon Alley to the residential section of wizarding London. They walked silently up the three flights to her tiny studio flat. "It's a mess," she said apologetically. She glanced back at him as she stuck her key into the lock. His face was still set in angry lines.

Pushing open the door, she quickly pulled out her wand and muttered, "Ordino." The clothes that were scattered across the floor flew into a laundry basket, and the futon folded up into a neat, cozy couch.

"Uh, have a seat, and I'll grab some food," she said. He only nodded in response.

He said nothing as she prepared their light lunch, nothing as she handed him the tea, nothing as she sat next to him on the couch. Tonks found the silence tortuous, but she had no idea how to break it. Everything she could think to say seemed trite and inadequate. So she stared into her tea, waiting for him to speak first.

After several tense minutes, he said quietly, "Do you know what I was doing this summer?"

"Your mission to the werewolves?" she asked, glancing at his frowning profile.

"Yes, my 'mission.'" He spat the last word out. He picked up his mug of tea and raised it to his lips, but then changed his mind. Wrapping both his hands around the mug, he said, "It truly was a mission, and I was a good little missionary. I told every werewolf I met that the real enemy is Voldemort, not the governments that persecute us. I told them that Voldemort's promises of power were false, and that when we destroyed him, the rest of the world would see us as heroes and grant us the rights we deserved." He shook his head. "I only half believed it this summer. And now I know it was all a bunch of lies!"

"You don't mean that," Tonks said quietly.

He snorted. "I don't? What part don't I mean, Tonks? Please, tell me."

"Voldemort is the real enemy."

"Really? At least he only brands people who come to him by choice."

"So what are you saying, Remus? That we shouldn't be fighting him? Just because some people on our side our bigots?"

He looked at her with narrowed eyes. "Those people aren't on my side at all. And there's no 'we,' no 'our.' You aren't going to be branded tomorrow, Tonks. You aren't going to have a big fucking W plastered across your chest!"

Tonks jumped up from the futon and began to pace. "Dammit, Remus, this is just what he wants! We'll never win this war, divided like this!"

Remus snorted. "That's the second time today I've been told that, and I don't fucking give a damn!" He hurled his mug of tea across the room, and it shattered into several, sharp-edged chunks of porcelin.

Tonks froze. After several seconds of watching fat droplets of tea streak down the wall, she pulled out her wand and whispered, "Reparo." The mug quickly pieced itself back together.

Remus stared at his empty hands. "Maybe they should brand people like me." He then rose quickly from the futon. "I should go."

"No!" Tonks jumped up and put a hand on his shoulder. He shook it off and continued toward the door. "Bloody hell, Remus, stop running away!"

He turned and glared at her. "Running away? Tonks ..."

"For Merlin's sake, I don't give a fuck about a broken mug. You have every right to get angry. Rant, rave, I don't care. Just don't run off ..."

He shook his head. "This isn't fair."

"I know it's not! If there were some way we could fight this ..."

"No, not the branding, not the law. I mean this, us."

She felt her breath catch in her throat. "What ... what do you mean?"

He reached out and took her face in his hands. "This was supposed to be our first date, Tonks." He managed a bitter laugh. "And we're already arguing."

She blinked rapidly. "It's been a tense day ..."

"Everyday with me is bound to be tense."

"I don't ..."

"I know, you don't care. But I don't think you really know what you're signing up for."

She opened her mouth to protest, and he slid one of his hands from her cheek to her lips.

"No, listen Tonks. You don't know really know me. And I don't really know you. And if I were a normal wizard, that would be fine. We'd decide over time if we could stand each other for the long run." He took his hands from her face and turned away. "But I'm not normal."

"We can still find out if we're good together," she whispered plainatively.

He sighed. "Tonks, we haven't even ... we haven't even kissed, and you already have to deal with things that a long time partner, a wife, shouldn't have to deal with! It's not fair to you and ... if I'm going to be honest about it, I'm not sure I can handle this. For a Gryffindor, I'm a bloody coward and ... I just don't know if I could take it half way through this relationship, we had to end it." He snorted. "You see? You see what I have to ask you? I'm asking for a commitment before you even know what you're committing yourself to!"

"You've seemed to have forgotten that we've been friends this past year!" Tonks interjected. "I know you ..."

"I haven't forgotten about our friendship, and that's precisely why I'm saying now that..."

"I may not know all the little things about you, Remus, but I've watched you enough this past year to figure out the important things ... you are brave, and you're considerate, and you're smart, and ..."

"And all of that means shit when we're walking down Diagon Alley and everyone's staring at you, wondering why you would spend your time with a werewolf ..."

"If you think I give a damn what some strangers think ..."

"And your friends? Your family?"

"My closest friends, Remus, all know about you, and my family ... well, if they don't accept you, then I don't want anything to do with them ..."

"Tonks, listen to yourself! You can't throw all that away for something that might work. What if we're completely wrong for each other? Do you understand what I'm saying? We shouldn't have to be talking about this, not this early on. It's not fair of me to back you into a corner like this."

"You don't give me much credit, Remus. You're not making me do anything." Then she sighed. "If anything, I'm the one pressuring you. Twice today - first at the Ministry and now - you've pushed me away. I'm practically begging you Remus ... but maybe you don't want this as much as I do?"

"Gods, Tonks, I want this, but I just don't think you understand the problems we'll have. Even if this werewolf law hadn't forced this issue, we'd still be a long shot. The war, our age differences, the fact that I have no prospects ..."

"Yes, and your complete lack of confidence, let's not forget that one!" she snapped.

"Fine, let's talk about that! That will never go away, do you understand that? Never! And if you think that somehow you can fix that ... if you want to save me or reform me, if I'm some sort of project to you ..."

"Of all the horrible things you've said today, that has to be the worst," she cut in quietly.

His face reddened, and he stared down at his feet. After several moments of silence, he whispered, "I'm sorry Tonks. But I'm telling you, this isn't going to work ..."

"Because you won't let it!" she said angrily.

"You're right, I won't. I can't." He met her eyes. "What if, six months from now, you decide you don't want this anymore? Even if it has nothing to do with my being a werewolf, I'll always wonder, I'll always think that ..." He sighed. "I saw myself in that old man today, Tonks. How many people left him behind?"

"How many people did he push away?"

Remus shrugged. "It's all the same thing, anyway. I'm sorry I came to see you today, Tonks. It was wrong of me to stir this all up. But I thought ..." He shook his head and turned to the door. "I'm sorry."

As she watched him leave, she bit her lip so hard that she tasted blood. She would not call after him, she thought, tears stinging her eyes. She would not chase him down. Still, she stared at the door for almost half an hour, willing him to come back. The door, however, remained closed.

*

Percy had never really liked gin; it was bitter, and it burned his throat so badly that tears inevitably sprung to his eyes. Still, it was the only thing available, and he had to admit that the effect of the stuff, especially after two, three mini-bottles- how many had he consumed again? - was worth the horrible taste. He felt very little now, only a pleasant buzz as the liquid coated his tongue and throat. Best of all, his mind felt almost completely separate from his aching body. In this respect, it was almost like wearing his mask. That white, skull-shaped covering had been his favorite part of the outfit. There was something truly magical about putting on that mask; it was liberating, becoming some nameless, feared death eater, a man not bound by anyone or anything except his own power. Of course, when his mask had slipped as he thrashed about the floor, screaming with each curse the Dark Lord threw at him, Percy realized that he was not quite as powerful as the mask had made him believe.

"Holy fuck, you're alive."

Percy didn't bother to look up at the arrival of his flatmate and fellow death eater. He downed another shot and mumbled, "Yes, Rich, I'm alive. Thanks, by the way, for all your help back there." He was rather impressed with the level of bitterness he managed to inject into his slurred voice. "You really stuck up for me at the summons."

"Well, what did you expect?" Rich said, plopping down beside Percy. Both men grimaced as the banged up sofa squeaked under Rich's weight. Percy supposed he should have been thankful that Rich was letting him stay at his place. But, as he stared at the floor, littered with empty bottles and stained with the dirt from their boots, he couldn't help but wonder how it was that his companion had reached the age of 21 without figuring out how to clean up after himself. Then again, not everyone had Molly Weasley as a mother. Grimacing again, Percy pushed that thought from his mind, and Rich continued in a whine: "I can't believe you didn't finish the job!"

Percy sighed. "Me neither. I ... I don't understand why I couldn't use the killing curse."

"I told you, you have to be ..."

"I am powerful!"

"Yeah, well, not enough. Couldn't you have used another Cruciatus? He looked about gone ..."

"You try shooting several in a row. It's not easy." Percy idly kicked one of the empty bottles and muttered, "And why didn't you help me out? You could have ..."

"Uh, I was lookout."

"Fucking coward," Percy muttered, but with a bit more cheerfulness than he'd felt all night. Just remembering the scene, how he'd brandished his wand, how he'd disarmed a great Auror, how he'd felt as the dark magic rolled through him, the memory made him a little giddy.

Leave it to Rich to bring him down from his small high. "Yeah, well, I'm not the Gryffindor." Then he laughed. "But neither were you. You were shaking like mad when you cursed that bloke!" Rich laughed again, and the booming sound of it made Percy's head ache. "I thought you were going to drop your wand for a minute there!"

"Shut up!" Percy said, still sober enough to recognize with some embarrassment that his voice sounded rather like a pig's squeal. "Shut the fuck up!" Ah, there it was. What was it about curse words that made one's voice sound so much manlier?

Rich held up his hands. "Fine, fine. Take it easy." Then he grabbed the bottle from Percy's hands and took a swig. "So, what did he say?'

"What did who say?"

Rich glared at him. "Who do you think? What did the ... the Dark Lord say to you?"

Percy looked away. He really didn't want to think about that encounter just now, hence, the liberal amount of alcohol now flowing through his blood stream.

"I said ..."

"I heard you." Percy sighed.

"Antonin said you were good as dead."

"Antonin?" Percy jumped up from the sofa and began to pace. "You're calling him Antonin now?"

Rich shrugged. "Yeah, he said I could."

Percy sulked. He had been the one the Dark Lord had called his most promising recruit, and now Rich was calling inner-circle Death Eaters by their first names?

The room seemed to spin around him. He stumbled against the wobbly coffee table, then fell back on the couch, his eyes fluttering open and closed. Why had he lifted his mask? Why had he shown Shacklebolt his face? Percy trembled as he realized that the Dark Lord had asked him those very questions just a few hours earlier.

"He sounded so shocked, my lord!" Percy had tried to explain, his face buried in the hem of his master's robes. "He couldn't believe a Weasley would serve you. He couldn't believe we were strong enough ... I wanted to show him ..."

The Dark Lord had used the tip of his boot to lift Percy's head so that glowing red eyes could stare down into unfocused blue ones. "But you weren't strong, were you?" he'd hissed. "You let him live."

"They were coming, we had to leave..."

Percy shook his head, unwilling to relive the moments after that.

"Hey, are you going to tell me what happened, or what?" Rich demanded, apparently unsympathetic to the pain Percy was experiencing.

"The Dark Lord is merciful," Percy mumbled. The words felt odd coming out of his mouth, almost as if someone else had prompted them. Somewhere deep inside him, he heard the tiniest of voices say, "He is not merciful," but Percy effectively squashed that voice and continued, aloud, "I'm to go into hiding. I'm going to work on a special project."

"A special project? You fuck up, and you get a special project?" Rich whined. With a roll of his eyes, he got up from the sofa. "You're a lucky bastard, you know that, Weasley?"

Percy closed his eyes. If Rich had even the slightest understanding of what Percy had to do, he'd rethink that last statement.