sam_storyteller (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-08 03:48 pm
sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-08 03:48 pm
Entry tags:
Amid My Solitude 4 of 7
There were two citizens who fought
For years and years, and over nought;
They made life awkward for their friends,
And shortened their own dividends.
-- Edwin Arlington Robinson
Tonks was gone when Remus woke, the first time that had happened, and he realised he'd overslept; the house was too quiet for it to be breakfast, and there was too much sunlight for it to be early. He tumbled out of the bed and wandered his way, half-conscious, through a shower and shave, through dressing and down to the kitchen, where the remains of the breakfast dishes were sitting in the sink.
He had things to do; several people had brought reports with them to Harry's party, which he had to read and decipher into useful information. Severus, through Arthur, had mentioned that he'd narrowed the field of possibilities for Voldemort's stronghold to five or six places, and if they were going to try to find them, they'd best do it soon.
There was the morning owl post to see to -- two belated cards and the usual yearly Hogwarts letter for Harry, and a long-past-due bill from a bookshop in Knockturn Alley for some volumes he'd purchased a few months ago. He sighed and laid it next to the pile of reports. If he sold that essay...
No replies from the journals he'd sent it to, as of yet. He laid the cards out for Harry -- backfiring noises from behind the house would seem to indicate he was playing with the motorbike, though he'd been strictly forbidden to ride it unsupervised until he'd had some more practice.
One more envelope -- no, just a piece of folded paper -- slipped through his fingers, and he caught it before it drifted to the floor.
Remus --
Sorry I left early this morning. You need to get out of that house more.
6pm Galileo's, Sosi Alley.
Don't bring Harry. If you do, I'll hurt you.
-- "Dora"
He smiled. At least she hadn't called him Remy. On the other hand, if someone else had come in and gotten to the mail first...
Well, it wasn't as though they had to keep it a secret. It was just that people were going to raise their eyebrows, he thought. A pushing-middle-age werewolf and a just-from-training Auror. And he knew who they were going to raise their eyebrows at.
And this -- Galileo's, in Sosi Alley -- sounded suspiciously like something more than their...hobby. Their hobby wasn't something one did at Galileo's. Not unless one was at the very dimmest table, and far more adventurous than Remus Lupin would ever admit to being.
He was probably being foolish. He had been at Headquarters a lot, recently, but then he had responsibilities here, especially with Harry about. She probably just wanted him to take an evening off. She was, after all, his friend first.
The thought of what she was "second" did strange things to his body temperature.
There was another roar from the back yard, and a string of cursewords. Remus smiled to himself and gathered up his reports, heading for the back porch. He could keep an eye on Harry, read, make notes, and still tell Tonks that he did indeed spend most of the day out of the house.
Harry was sitting next to the motorbike, inspecting the engine. Every so often he'd mutter a word in Latin, and it would roar.
"Troubles already?" Remus asked. Harry looked up, a smear of grease on his forehead.
"I want to know how he enchanted it," he said.
"Why?"
"Because Sirius did it," Harry answered. Remus nodded.
"Fair enough. Mind if I keep you company?"
"Long as you don't mind hearing me swear."
"Can I look disapproving?"
"Sure," Harry said with a smile, and turned back to his work. "You don't happen to know, do you?"
"No, Sirius never even told us he had one until it was done," Remus said absently, riffling through the sheets of parchment. "James might have known..."
He glanced up and saw Harry watching him, a strange look in his eyes.
"Sorry," he said softly. "That was thoughtless of me."
"It's all right," Harry replied, wiping his forehead with his arm and turning back to the machine. "At least you don't walk around it like everyone else does."
"Well, I don't -- what?"
"Dumbledore does it all the time," Harry said, apparently to the fuel tank. "You watch. Whenever he talks to me. It's like he's talking to my dad, and he just doesn't want to admit it."
"He probably just sees the resemblance. So do I, if it comes to that."
"Sirius did it too. More after he came back here," Harry continued. "Even Mr. Weasley does it. Only with him it's like he's talking to me, but he's thinking about every...single...word...he says."
"I'm sure he doesn't do that, Harry," Remus said, though he was already reaching back in his memory to consider things.
"Remus...no offence..." Harry grunted, tightening a nut somewhere in the depths of the mechanism, "But you didn't even know you were leading the Order until Arthur Weasley told you."
He glanced up at Remus' stunned face. "Tonks mentioned it me," he said, and went back to the machine. "It's fine. The point is, you don't do what they do. And when I'm let into the Order people will see I'm not my dad. Or a ghost."
He started the bike up then, and Remus couldn't even hear himself over the roar, let alone speak to Harry. So he bent to his pages, beginning to plan for the next Order mission.
It was going to be a big one, he thought. A concerted effort, something with careful planning. Small teams of two, checking in on a regular basis...he'd go out himself, he decided, and let the twins run things from the house, it'd be good experience and he wanted the older members doing the actual work. Any stronghold of Voldemort's would be heavily warded. He doubted even Dumbledore would get past them, let alone Fred and George Weasley...but they had to try.
He looked up from the hand-drawn map that Arthur had included in his brief report, on which he was making copious notes, to check on Harry. He'd never realised that Harry's hair wasn't all one shade; like his own, it was shot through with lighter colours, the roots of which were bleaching in the sun.
Sixteen years ago, they would have spent a day like this at the little house in Godric's Hollow, James and Lily continually fussing over Harry while Sirius teased his friend about being a father already, and Remus and Peter regarded the boy with wary affection.
Not much change there, then. Harry was still slightly alien, never fully open to anyone, especially now that Sirius was gone. Remus knew the feeling, and knew Harry would survive it -- hadn't he survived it himself for the better part of three decades?
He wished like hell the boy didn't have to, though.
"I think I've got it," Harry announced triumphantly. "Variation on the basic Wingardium, isn't it? Much more complicated, but it's all down to the base spell...I think I could rework it if I had to."
Remus tilted his head, and smiled. "Got your father's brains," he said.
Harry gave him a solemn nod, and dusted himself off.
"You want lunch?" he asked. "I'd rather not just feed myself. I'm used to cooking for four."
***
Remus lay his papers on the table and went to the cupboard to take down plates and cups. Harry found bread and meat, lettuce and onions, and some self-slicing cheese which, when tapped with a wand, would provide perfect thin slices every time. He made sandwiches, following Remus' absent directions for his, while the older man poured lemonade for Harry and one of the apparently random bottles of beer in the icebox for himself. Halfway to the table, Remus lifted his head, listening intently.
"Better cut some more bread," he said. "Turkey, mustard, cheese, lettuce, no onions."
"Who...?" Harry asked, confused.
"Dumbledore's coming," Remus replied, taking down a third cup. He gave Harry a sly smile. "Werewolf senses," he explained. Harry nodded, and cut two more slices of bread.
Dumbledore did arrive, not a minute later, and a warm breeze blew through the dim, chilly house when he walked through the door. Remus, mouth full of sandwich, gestured to the third plate, and Dumbledore smiled.
"You are perpetually anticipating me," he said, seating himself, eating neatly for a man with a voluminous beard and moustache. "It's a pleasant day out -- "
"I'm calling a meeting," Remus said. Dumbledore bowed his head a little.
"Anticipatory and direct," he murmured.
"The Dark Lord's stronghold," Remus continued, unfolding the map he'd been working on, daring Dumbledore to send Harry away. The map was covered in concentric circles, some running off the page; Dumbledore examined it with interest.
"Mostly Severus' work, isn't it?" he asked. "Fine draftsmanship."
"Kingsley's been checking his work. It's sound."
"Eight likely spots."
"And a dozen unlikely ones. But I thought we ought to at least get a start."
Dumbledore's eyes slid to Harry again, and Remus shook his head.
"Harry and the twins can stay here and monitor things. Not taking reports, just making sure nobody gets hurt," Remus continued. "The end of the week. Nobody's working. Just a day in the countryside."
"All over the countryside," Dumbledore observed.
"Yes," Remus replied. "All over."
Dumbledore sat silently, watching Remus, and the werewolf had the eerie sensation that his thoughts were far too similar to the thoughts Remus himself had entertained, watching Harry.
Three generations of secrecy, he thought sadly. Three generations of not...quite...understanding.
Then the older man nodded and returned to the map. "Don't choose who goes where until we know who can come. I'll put the word about."
"Have you spoken to Kingsley, recently?" Remus asked, significantly. Dumbledore nodded. "And...?"
"Severus will be there," was all the Headmaster would say. "Excellent sandwich, Harry, thank you. Remus, I'd like to speak to you alone, if I may? No, Harry, finish your lunch," he added, as the boy stood, slightly sullen, to leave. "We'll walk out, if Remus doesn't object."
Dumbledore led the way out the front door and down into the city street, and Remus heard a soft, windy noise as Headquarters vanished from view. He fell into step beside his Headmaster, the man who, if Severus Snape was right, had him by a very short leash.
"Things are changing, and quickly," Dumbledore said, as they walked. Remus nodded. "You've begun to take more of an interest in Order affairs. In putting the Order's affairs to rights, as it were."
"If I've overstepped -- "
"No, Remus. You are very careful never to overstep your bounds," Dumbledore interrupted. "I don't disapprove."
"But...?"
"But I wonder why this change," Dumbledore replied. "I wonder why you have...assumed the role you were being prepared for, so early."
"You never do anything without a reason, do you?"
"Oh, I do many things without reason," Dumbledore replied, with a sunny smile.
"Not when it comes to the Order."
That seemed to silence the Headmaster, and they walked on for a while without speaking.
"Arthur told me I was being looked to," Remus said finally. "So I thought I ought to do something worth watching."
"And you are no longer a prefect."
"No. Certainly not."
"And it has nothing to do with your new...friendship with Nymphadora?"
Remus sighed. "My personal friendships are the last thing I want people to see when they look at me. Especially this one."
"I hear Severus Snape was fairly badly bruised."
"That was Tonks."
"Indeed."
Remus stopped walking, and crossed his arms. "You know, you did say I wasn't a Prefect anymore. You can't go through life treating everyone as if they never left school, Dumbledore."
"I find that technique works extremely well in most cases, actually," Dumbledore replied, flashing that confident smile again. "Kingsley Shacklebolt suspects Severus of being a spy. Arthur Weasley suspects Mundungus Fletcher of being a dupe. And are you...afraid...of anyone in the Order? You said yourself you felt you ought to take the job when it was offered."
Remus thought for an instant about Tonks. About how young women did not seduce men ten years older than them without a reason, and especially prematurely-greying, borderline-alcoholic, highly nonsocial werewolves.
"No," he said slowly. "Unless we know there's a spy, it's useless to suspect anyone. Even Severus Snape."
Dumbledore nodded, eyes never leaving Remus' face.
"If you do have suspicions, I'd like to hear them," he said. "Tell Harry goodbye, would you?"
Remus nodded, and Dumbledore Disapparated, leaving him alone on the street.
***
Sosi Alley was the fashionable district of the magical quarter that Diagon Alley opened into; it was mostly brick, with iron terraces and traditional green doors. Most of the storefronts were old converted houses; Galileo's, which dominated the street, was one of the few buildings that had obviously been meant as a restaurant from the start. The front of the building was almost entirely glass: windows in wooden frames, which stretched from the flower-boxes on the ground to the ceiling. They were open in the summer evening, and the sound of people talking and eating drifted out.
Inside, the restaurant was...different. Out on the street the sun was still up and it washed the brick to vivid orange and reds; inside, the light was blue and silver, and it was easy to see why.
The ceiling didn't even appear to exist -- instead, like the high ceilings of the Hogwarts great hall, it was enchanted to look like a brilliant night sky, stars sparkling down on the diners. Every so often, clouds drifted across, lit by lighting, to the awe and approval of those at the small, linen-covered tables.
"You could try being late, just once," said a voice behind him, and he turned to smile at Tonks, standing in the doorway.
"I was admiring your choice of location," he said, fighting down the little voice in the back of his head which said there was no way he could afford even his own meal in a place like this.
"Kingsley recommended it," she said, taking his arm as a silent, dignified maitre'd led them to a back table. "He said it never failed."
"Never fai...oh." Remus raised his eyebrows. "Did you really have worries on that front, Tonks?"
She laughed. "I thought you'd like to go out for an evening."
"If the house burns down while I'm gone, because I left Harry with the twins, I'm telling Dumbledore to blame you," he replied.
"I'll take the fall."
He smiled and opened his menu, allowing the minutiae of ordering food and wine to fill his mind, pushing his suspicions and worries away. The wine helped, and so did Tonks, who distracted him with talk of her job, and Wizarding politics, and the Prophet's latest editorials.
He couldn't recall when he had so entirely managed to avoid thinking of work, or worrying about...well, about anything.
That probably wasn't a good thing, he thought, fingers idly turning his wineglass. Tonks was saying something about proper use of the word "they're" as opposed to "there" in editorials, and he wasn't quite following it, but that was all right; it was just talk, and Tonks liked to fill the silences.
"You look like you're thinking something devious," she said, grinning at him.
"I'm not thinking at all," he replied.
"My nefarious plan succeeds!" she laughed. "Good for you, Remus."
He smiled and drained the last of the wine. "Plotting my downfall, hm?"
"No, just a gentle slide away from round-the-clock worrying," Tonks said.
"I don't worry round the clock," he protested. She lifted an eyebrow. "I sleep at least five hours a night."
"Yes, what a wild life you lead," Tonks murmured. "Come on, let's get out of here."
"The check -- "
" -- it's taken care of," she said, standing. He got to his feet, curious. "I did a favour for the owner once."
"Should I ask?"
"Confidential."
"You didn't break the law, did you?"
She grinned. "It's a little bendy, you know, when you're an Auror. And don't..."
"...worry," he sighed. She reached up and drew her fingers through a cloud passing over the heads of the diners, sending grey wisps eddying away. When they stepped outside, she slid her arm around his waist and leaned against him, smiling. He settled his own arm around her shoulders.
"You liked dinner, didn't you?" she asked.
"I did indeed."
"And you're glad to get out of Headquarters?"
"Tonks, are you worrying?" he asked, as they passed out of Sosi Alley and into the main street.
"Just taking a poll," she replied. "I'm free tonight, you know."
"I deduced you might be."
"We could go look in the shops, or get a drink at the Leaky Cauldron."
"Or go home," he murmured, in her ear, and felt a pleasant shiver go through her.
"Let's walk a little," she replied.
"That sounds good." He felt her arm tighten, and became aware of his breathing.
Shallow. She'd warned him about that.
He forced himself to breathe more deeply, and smelled the rich scent of Diagon Alley -- sun-warmed streets, chill sweetness from Florian Fortescue's ice cream parlour, dust and dry paper from Flourish & Blott's.
"I think," he said, as they passed storefronts and shop windows, "that I truly enjoy this hobby. And so far it's remarkably inexpensive."
"That's the beauty of the hobby," she replied, but he felt her tense a little.
"Cold?" he asked.
"No, not at all," Tonks said, and he nodded. He was imagining the tension in her shoulders, the slight pull of her arm.
Imagining it.
***
The meeting was called for that Friday evening -- at least that way they could relax while they contemplated possible doom. Tonks, on arriving, was the first to point this out, but she wasn't the last; as Mundungus Fletcher arrived (late, as usual) Bill Weasley was just saying that he felt Lupin had scheduled this on purpose, in order to get them drunk before sending them to their deaths. Remus, who was handing him a whiskey sour as he said it, merely smiled and pointed out that everyone was assuming he had their deaths all planned out.
"Makes it easier when we don't die," Bill replied.
"That's a good habit to cultivate," Moody said, in all seriousness.
"Not dying?" Bill asked.
"Lupin, why are we here?" Snape interrupted. "I'm assuming it has more import than listening to Weasley and Moody debate semantics."
"We're here because of you, Severus," Remus replied. The bruising on Snape's cheekbone had healed nicely -- more the pity, really. He had seen the bruises when Snape had come to work with Harry, most mornings, and he thought some of the Order would dearly like to see it too. "Your work."
He spread the map -- now annotated in several shades of ink -- on the table. "We know that the Dark Lord has a stronghold somewhere in England. He knows we have one."
"Even-hand standoff," Moody grunted. Remus nodded.
"Hopefully not for long."
"Fortunately we have no nefarious plots to carry out in the near future," Tonks put in. "So we've got the manpower to go looking, and the information on where to start."
"Right in one," Remus nodded.
"Field trip!" Bill Weasley laughed. "We going snake-hunting?"
"More or less. I want at least one older, experienced member on each team. Fletcher and Tonks, Arthur and Bill, Molly and Moody, Arabella and Kingsley, and Severus, you're with me. Dumbledore and McGonagall couldn't be here, but they've already drawn the northern area."
"What about us?" Fred asked.
"You two and Harry are to stay here and monitor. Every team checks in with Fred or George before leaving, and every two hours with one of the three. If someone finds anything, we want to know about it. That way if you do die, Bill, it won't have been in vain."
"Good to know," Bill said ruefully.
"You'll be going amongst Muggles, so remember to try and blend in. If you have questions, ask Arabella. We want to know if anything strange has been happening, any odd lights, strangely-dressed people...other than us, I suppose," he sighed, taking in Fletcher's brightly striped robes. "Any local cults or strange clubs. Anything that feels wrong. You know what to look for. Try to be aware. Try not to get murdered unnecessarily."
"You're all hope, Remus," Arthur murmured.
"This is a big operation, our biggest so far. I want everyone reporting back here in person by Sunday evening. Otherwise, where you search is at your discretion...and luck of the draw," he added. He handed half the group small slips of parchment. "Those are the names of likely towns. If you don't find anything in town, spread out from there."
He consulted the last slip he'd saved, and looked at Snape. "We're in Little Hangleton."
"I know the place," Snape said, his voice low. The others began comparing papers. A few, he noticed, traded them.
"I don't want anyone starting tonight. Tomorrow morning, tell someone where you're going -- both of you -- and remember to call in. Thanks to Hermione..." he said, drawing a handful of Galleons out of his pocket, "that shouldn't be hard. These'll turn warm when you're supposed to check back. Press down on it and Fred and George will know you're all right. If you have to pass information back, Apparate or Floo to the house. Don't split up," he added sternly.
Kingsley gave him a facetious salute, and he smiled.
"I boss because I don't want anyone dying," Remus said carefully. "Any questions?"
"If we do die, are you going to yell at us?" Fletcher asked, and the meeting broke up, amid laughs and good-natured claps on the back. Snape, barely stopping, hissed that he would be there at eight sharp the next morning, and he didn't want to have to wait. Remus nodded and let it pass. The man'd had enough abuse at his hands lately.
He was pleased to see that some people stayed to drink and talk; he found he was forming very clear ideas about what the Order ought to be, and one of those ideas was that people in the Order should be...well, friends. People who spoke to each other because they wanted to. People who could complain to each other.
This leadership thing wasn't half bad, he decided.
He should have known the warm feeling of a job well done was too good to last.
"Remus, can I have a word?" Tonks asked, sidling up next to him as he tacked the map to a wall, and laid the Galleons on a table below it.
"Of course -- is something wrong?" he asked, noticing she hadn't touched the drink in her hand, and was looking rather less cheerful than usual.
"In private?"
"Right now?"
She bit her lips, and it was obvious that "yes, right now" was warring with "this is personal". He suddenly doubted that this private talk was going to be as enjoyable as some they'd had.
***
When they walked into one of the empty rooms near the stairway -- once the servants' rooms, now mostly used for storage or as guest rooms -- Tonks set her glass on the table, her back to him, and crossed her arms.
"What's going on?" he asked, coming forward, but not quite all the way. She clearly didn't want him that close to her, and he was exceptionally good at body language, most of the time.
"How did you make out the teams?" she asked quietly. "Did you list them out beforehand?"
"I couldn't, I didn't know who could come. I mean, some of them -- mostly I just saw who was there. Why?"
"Did you know you were going to send Kingsley out with Arabella? And me with Fletcher?"
"Well, I knew I could trust -- Tonks, what are you getting at?"
"Snape," she said, biting off the end of the word viciously. "You're taking Snape."
"Well, Kingsley doesn't trust him, Arthur couldn't control him, you slapped him, Fletcher and Bill both hate him, and Dumbledore asked for McGonagall. Besides, I needed someone I can trust with Fletcher." He crossed his arms, and bowed his head. "Is that a problem?"
"Well, Kingsley asked for him specifically because he doesn't trust him, and I rather thought I'd be going along with you. And I don't think your random distribution of towns was all that random," Tonks added. "I think you saved the one Snape's got his hopes pinned on for yourself."
"I'm not going to send anyone out to do a thing I wouldn't do myself."
"First rule of leadership."
"For a reason."
"Stupid reason."
"Don't let's fight, Tonks," he said, moving forward. She shrugged out of his grasp when he wrapped an arm around her waist. "Believe me, if it's a choice between a weekend with you and one with Severus Snape, I'd jump for you in a heartbeat. But I've got to do this. I'm not allowed to let anything I think or feel get in the way."
"You never do anyway," she said, crossing her arms again. "That's your tragedy, Remus. You divide things up so finely into little boxes that you can't see anything but the divisions."
"That's not fair, Tonks."
"I never claimed I was fair," she rejoined, harshly.
"No, but I never thought you were cruel, either."
She laughed, bitterly. "Cruel? Cruel is..."
He waited patiently. Finally she put her hands to her face, and sighed. "You wouldn't understand anyway."
"I think that's assuming a lot."
"I don't want reasons, Remus! I know the reasons! I don't want explanations or rational, logical proofs as to why you have to go to Little Hangleton with Severus Snape! I want you to make sympathetic noises and say you're sorry and promise you'll never do it again, even if we both know you will."
He gazed at her, utterly confused. "Why?"
"I said you wouldn't understand. Because that's what I want, I can't explain it. That's what b -- "
She stopped, suddenly, and turned away. "It's what people do. For each other. I don't want logic, Remus. I want comfort."
"I tried to comfort you," he said haplessly. "I did say let's not fight -- "
"After feeding me all sorts of rationality that I don't want to hear!"
"My god, what on earth am I supposed to do?" he asked, spreading his arms. "Tonks, I don't want to fight with you! I don't want to go out there along with a former Death Eater, you know! I don't like it! But I have to do it!"
"This isn't about Snape!"
"You could have bloody fooled me!"
"You just stood there and casually tossed out names, like you'd just thought it up on the spot -- "
" -- most of them I did, once I saw who was there! -- "
" -- and like the fact that you were sending me out with Mundungus Fletcher to face who-knows-what, without even looking at me..."
"What, did you want me to kiss you while I said it?"
She was silent, and he felt shame creep over him; this wasn't fair to either of them, but especially to her.
"I just wanted to know that you thought more of me than just another soldier, that's all," she said, after a moment or two.
He crossed the space between them and caught her as she turned, his hands on her cheeks, one sliding down her throat as he kissed her.
"No one in the Order is just another soldier," he said, against her lips. "And you are not just anyone. You know that. My god, Tonks, the things I've told you -- the things I've let you do -- "
"It'd be nice to hear it, that's all," she whispered, her hands rising to cover his, to pull them away. He leaned back, slightly.
"What do you want me to say? I'll say it," he said. "Do you want me to -- "
" -- no. I just wanted to know that you would," she interrupted.
"That makes no sense."
"I'm not interested in making sense."
He let her move his hands down her body until they rested on her hips; then he pulled her closer.
"I have to be one man for you, and one for the Order," he murmured. "You have to understand that, Tonks."
"Which one's the real one?"
"Can't they both be?"
"Only if they both care. About me. And I don't care if that's selfish."
He breathed deeply, and kissed her hair when she rested her head on his collarbone.
"This is where we start hurting each other, isn't it?" he asked.
"It could be."
"I hate this part."
"Shut up," she said, and he felt the vibration of her speech on his skin. "Just don't talk anymore, all right?"
"All this anger over Severus Snape?" he said, ignoring her request. "He's not worth it, Tonks. Dora," he added, and he felt her snort of laughter.
"You really are wonderfully oblivious sometimes," she said, reaching up to run a hand through his hair, as she'd done with the cloud in Galileo's.
"Everyone keeps saying that," he sighed.
"And now you can stop talking, like I told you to."
"Dora," he murmured, into a kiss that was fast threatening to cut off his air supply. But he didn't speak again until she released him and stepped back.
"I should get some rest. Early morning tomorrow. You should, too."
"Yes, I've got to tour the countryside," he said, in the mimicry of Snape's tones which always made her smile.
"I know it's unreasonable, Remus," she said quietly. "I know it doesn't make sense and it's not what a good Auror would say. But you don't employ me as an Auror." Her fingers lifted a stray lock of hair off his forehead. "You're my...friend. And it's strange to me when I see you giving orders like that. That's all."
She pulled away, just a little; he followed her to the door, and then back into the loud, laughing crowd of Order members, who were already making plans for the following day.
***
As promised, Snape arrived sharply at eight, and Remus was waiting; he initialed their names on the map, gave a farewell salute to Fred and George, and walked out into the front yard of 12 Grimmauld Place.
"You've been," Remus said. "I'll follow you there."
Snape nodded curtly and Disapparated, Remus following a second later. It was always slightly bewildering, following someone to a place you'd never been, but he managed, and when he'd regained his footing he saw that they were standing in a dusty, scrub-covered ditch, next to a paved road.
"This way to town," Snape said, still just barely avoiding Remus. They'd been two of the first to check out with Fred and George; Remus wondered if anyone else was having to put up with similar.
"It's a pretty sort of place, isn't it?" he asked, as they crested a rise and saw the town before them. Snape snorted.
"It has streets and houses enough," he replied.
"Strange to think about the Dark Lord's family living here."
"Generations of ruthless, worthless Muggles."
"I'm sure some of them were all right."
"You have a better view of human nature than I," he answered.
"Well, that's neither here nor there. The point is, there are worse ways to spend a Saturday."
"Than poking about a Muggle village for the most powerful Dark Wizard in a hundred years? Who, incidentally, would be happy to see you dead and probably would purposefully keep me alive if I were caught? Name three."
"Actually being dead, actually being caught, and having food poisoning," Remus said promptly.
"So gratified to know you prefer me to food poisoning."
"It's a slim margin."
"The feeling is mutual."
"I thought it might be," Remus said, kicking a stone as they walked. They were near the village now, and he could see the High Street, a large ornamental fountain at its end. "Shall we have a look round, first? Bit early to go to the pub but I bet we could pick something up if we stopped for breakfast."
"The graveyard is that way," was all Severus said in reply. Remus, who had not slept well enough to fight about it, simply followed.
"Reckon this is where it happened?" he asked, as they climbed the steep hill to the church. Snape looked around him and stepped sideways, staring at the yew tree nearby.
"This was it," he said softly. "That night when he called us...this is where he wanted us to come. The night he came back."
Remus watched as Snape repositioned himself, climbing the hill a little, to turn and look out across the town.
"Something's missing," Snape murmured. "Missing from the picture."
Remus stared around him, eyes narrowing. Now that Snape said it, something tugged at the edge of his consciousness; as though there were a feeling that there was a thing, somewhere, was screaming 'don't look at me'.
It felt, he thought idly, the way James and Lily's house felt after it was destroyed. The lingering effects of the secrecy spell, wearing off now that the building was gone.
"Something there," Snape said, and pointed. There was a shimmering mirage above a grassy field, a whisper in the air. Remus squinted.
"It's a trap," Snape murmured. "Or it's abandoned. It wouldn't be so easy."
Because now, out of the air, a house was forming slowly; if they concentrated, they could see large, sprawling lines -- a rich house, nearly a mansion. Growing more solid by the minute.
"How on earth..." Remus said, as the last line shook and solidified. Snape took a few steps towards the house, circling downward towards the gate of the graveyard.
Remus, standing above him on the hill, glanced down at the gravestone next to him. It was cracked, and the bottom grown with moss. It bore quite a simple legend.
TOM RIDDLE.
"Let's check in with Fred and George," he said cautiously. Snape nodded, and vanished without a word. A second later he was back, and Remus didn't bother to scold him for leaving a partner behind.
***
Inside the house it was cool, and smelled of dust; they entered cautiously, wands out, Snape walking ahead. It was a sprawling place, once richly decorated, and it reminded Remus of 12 Grimmauld Place before Molly's cleaning squad.
The smell of dust gave way to the scent of rancid food and rotting garbage as they passed the kitchen; Remus leaned through the doorway, noting the spoilt food on the counter, the filthy dishes overflowing the sink. Someone had been here, and they hadn't cared to clean when they left.
There were smears of rusty brown on the floor. He reached out and tugged on Snape's sleeve, stepping into the kitchen.
"Blood," he said. "You can smell it."
"Bodies?" Snape asked, in a voice that was too calm to be quite believable. Remus opened a tall cupboard in the corner.
"I don't think so," he replied. "I think we'd know."
"Looks like they left in a rush," Snape commented, stepping calmly over the streaks on the floor to investigate the counter.
"D'you think Voldemort was here?"
"I think so."
"Me too," Remus replied grimly. "Left after the fight in the Ministry, reckon?"
"Or shortly before. They had to have known someone would come looking for them. They've been gone long enough for the fruit to spoil," Snape said with distaste.
"Let's look upstairs."
"Oh yes, do let's," Snape replied sardonically, but he followed the other man up the creaking staircase.
"Do you suppose we haven't looked here before because of the secrecy spell?" Remus asked.
"Indubitably. I knew Dumbledore suspected the death of the caretaker was linked to the Dark Lord's rise, but..." Snape stopped at the top of the stairs, looking around at the dusty interior. "I can't imagine why he never investigated the place Frank Bryce was living in."
"Unless...it was hidden and warded..."
"Exactly." Snape stepped forward, pushing open a door, and for the Potions Master, the world went temporarily black.
***
Fred and George were working on new order forms for the business, heads bent over the desk, and Harry was monitoring the coins, as well as the map; a couple of the explorers had already floo'ed back, momentarily, to make reports.
"Coming on noon," Fred said thoughtfully. "Feel like lunch, Harry?"
"Suppose so," Harry replied. "Bet if we wait a few minutes your mum'll check in."
George laughed. "Carrying something she just happened to pick up on the way back."
"Bet you a sickle Remus does it too," Fred put in.
There was a thudding noise, and the flames in the fireplace burst into a brilliant array of colour before slowly revealing two people, who tumbled onto the enormous hearth.
"Told you -- " Fred began, but Harry had stood so fast his chair fell over, and George, who was closest to the fireplace, was already moving forward.
Remus Lupin, cheek smeared with ash, arms supporting an unconscious Severus Snape, grinned up at them.
"Funny fact," he said, as George and Harry helped him drag Snape onto the carpet. "Did you know the Riddle house is hooked up to the Floo network illegally?"
"What happened?" Fred demanded. "Did he try to attack you?"
"Did you have to hit him?" George added.
"Again?" Harry asked.
"That was Tonks, and no, he didn't do anything," Remus sighed. "Except walk through a booby-trapped door."
"Dumbledore's NEVER going to let him teach Dark Arts now!" Fred crowed.
"He's been out for about three hours. He was bleeding pretty badly, I didn't want to move him until I'd got him under control," Remus said. "That's not all."
"What else?" Harry asked. Remus reached into the bag Snape had carried, and pulled out a shining white skull. The boys' amused expressions faded.
"Whose is it?" Fred asked softly.
"I suspect the caretaker's," Remus replied. "I left the rest of the bones there, but I thought Dumbledore ought to see it. There are..." he coughed. "Well, there are advanced spells for this sort of thing. You need the skull."
There was a loud crack outside the window, and Harry ran to look. "It's Tonks and Fletcher," he called. "And Mrs. Weasley and Moody."
"Has she got lunch?" George asked. Remus gave him a scolding look. "Well, I don't stop being hungry just because Severus Snape's not bright enough to knock first."
"If I'd been nearer the door, I would have done the same thing, George," Remus replied. "Harry, help me take him to his -- "
"Tonks doesn't look so good," Harry said, backing away from the window, and running to the front door of the mansion. Remus froze.
Light spilled in as Harry threw the door open. Remus stayed, crouched over Snape, as Molly's voice became audible, questioning, soothing. He watched Fletcher and Molly back through the doorway, and heard with a nearly physical sense of relief when Tonks answered them.
"I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine," she said. "Molly, really. Just let me get to a chair."
"Listen to the woman, Weasley," came Mad-Eye's voice. The pair of them walked in together, Tonks limping slightly. Her clothes were powdered in white, and there were bits of splintered wood in her hair, not to mention a truly spectacular bruise developing on her jaw.
"What on earth happened to -- " Molly stopped, suddenly, as she saw Remus, crouching near the unconscious Snape. "Well, for crying out loud."
Tonks turned too, and blinked. "Did you fall through the ceiling too?" she asked.
"The ceiling?" Remus asked in reply. "You fell through a ceiling?"
"Actually it was a floor...well, I thought it was a floor..." she limped to a chair and accepted a bag of ice from one of the twins. "Ta, Fred. Molly, it's all right, I'm okay. Embarrassed, but that's nothing new..."
"You fell through a ceiling?" Remus repeated.
"Constant vigilance!" Mad-Eye Moody declared.
"I wasn't expecting the architecture to attack me," answered Tonks, a trifle sarcastically.
"Should have done. S'what happened to Snape, innit?" Moody asked. Remus, pulling himself away from the 'fell through a ceiling' concept, nodded.
"He walked through a booby-trapped door," he sighed. "Believe me when I say that spending three hours on the floor of the former headquarters of the Dark Lord, trying to stop the bleeding, is not the way to spend a Saturday morning. Although," he reflected cryptically, "it still beats food poisoning."
"So you found something?" Tonks asked, leaning forward. Plaster dust cascaded off her. Molly tsked.
"You ought to change and see to yourself first," she said severely.
"I'm just bruised," Tonks said dismissively. Remus was still watching her. "What happened? Should we go have a look?"
"You're not going anywhere," Fletcher put in. "She didn't half give me a fright, Lupin. 'I'll have a look around upstairs' says she, and the floor gives way and all I can think is 'Well, I guess she found the fastest way down'."
Tonks made a sound that was suspiciously like a giggle.
"Lupin..." Mad-Eye said, thoughtfully, looking at the table. "You want to tell us whose skull that is?"
Remus straightened and sighed. "Mobilicorpus minimus," he murmured, and Snape rose into the air. "I'll get him settled. Then I want to hear about the ceiling," he added, as he moved Snape out of the room.
"Not more than we want to hear about the skull," Mad-Eye replied.
He heard them talking in quiet voices as he pushed Snape down the hallway towards his room and dropped him onto the bed. He was fairly sure he'd at least started the healing on most of the man's injuries; he wasn't a Healer, but he knew a trick or two of the trade. It'd been a long time since he'd seen that much blood.
When he returned, Mad-Eye was holding the skull, poking his fingers into the eye-sockets curiously; Tonks was picking bits of wood out of her hair, and the twins and Harry were bent over the lunch that Molly had, indeed, brought back with her. Mundungus Fletcher could be heard crashing about in the kitchen, and Molly was sitting on the edge of the sofa, next to Harry.
"Put it down," Remus said tiredly, and Mad-Eye set the skull back on the table. "I think it belongs to Frank Bryce."
"To who?" Tonks asked.
"He was caretaker at the Riddle house. He disappeared just before the last Quidditch World Cup. Dumbledore took it as part of a sign that the Dark Lord was being resurrected."
"Doesn't do us much good now," Mad-Eye grunted.
"It might, at some point." Remus leaned on the table in front of Tonks. "Now. Tell me about the ceiling."
She stopped in the middle of pulling another bit of wood out of her hair.
"We asked around," she sighed. "Turns out the orphanage Tom Riddle grew up in was closed a couple of years ago. Fire hazards. Plus they said that they don't call them orphanages anymore."
"Group Foster Homes, whatever that means," Fletcher said, putting his head through the doorway.
"Right...but there wasn't anything else in town to see -- well, one thing, but..." she shrugged. "We went up to the orphanage and had a look around. I said I'd see about the upstairs. I left Mundungus -- there were some files still in the office, I thought maybe we could find something out."
"Next thing I know, there's an almighty crash, and down she comes in a shower of rubbish," Fletcher put in.
"The floor was wood-beam and stucco. The wood had rotted away and the rest wouldn't hold my weight. Did break my fall though," she added cheerfully. "I've had worse."
"And you're all right? No broken bones?"
"Nah. I'll put a heating charm on my blanket tonight, keep me from stiffening up. I'm fine, Remus. Really."
He nodded, and realised that both Mad-Eye and Molly were looking at him oddly. He cleared his throat.
"You said there was something else...?"
"We found a Crinon," Fletcher said, carrying a bowl of stew into the room. He began to devour it, eating quickly but neatly as he talked. "It's a Muggle village, there's no wizarding going on there, so we thought it was a bit odd."
"A Crinon? In the middle of a Muggle village?" Molly asked.
"What's a Crinon?" Harry put in. Everyone looked at him; they'd forgotten he and the twins were still there. Now Remus saw that Fred and George were taking notes onto the map, and Harry was listening intently.
"I'd like to know too," George put in hastily.
"Crinon's Peculiar Fountain," Remus said distantly. "Mad-Eye, you know more about them than I do."
"Shame Snape's out cold, he knows the most," Mad-Eye said gruffly. "Tough trick to do. Not many wizards could manage it, even the experienced ones."
"It's a sort of potion, isn't it?" Molly asked.
"Oh aye. Tis water magic. Hardest sort," said Mad-Eye, rubbing his chin.
"When it's done right, it still looks like water. Only the water's made itself into a fountain. It's constantly re-cycling and cleaning itself," Remus said. "So if you have enough water to fill the bottom of a fountain, and you build the potion around the thing itself, it'll look like you've got a clean-running fountain. Without water pipes, or even a pump."
"When in fact it's the same water over and over, until someone stops it. Or until the water's gone," Mad-Eye added.
"And there are charms to keep that from happening," Tonks added. "Which this one had."
"What's something like that doing in the middle of a Muggle town?" Harry asked.
"That's a good question," replied Tonks. She brushed at the plaster on her robe. "What'd you find?" she asked, but Remus was thinking back to the walk into town. They'd seen the High Street, and at the end had been a large, ornamental fountain...
"Remus?" Molly asked.
"Sorry," he said, shaking his head. "We found...hm. The grounds of the old Riddle House. The whole thing had been under a secrecy spell, but it was already fading by the time we got there. We were standing in the...erm, in the graveyard," he said, glancing at Harry, who nodded slowly. "We went up to investigate the house...there's blood and spoilt food in the kitchen, and a magical trap on the upstairs room. Some sort of curse -- Severus walked in and something mauled him. By the time I'd stopped it..." he shrugged. "I stopped the bleeding. It took a couple of hours to get him safe to floo back. I tried the hearth in the room -- an illegal connection to the floo network. Clever charm, really..." he trailed off.
"What about Yorick there?" Tonks asked.
"Who?" Molly asked.
"The skull."
"There was a closet..." Remus said slowly. "I poked around a bit while Severus was healing..."
"You could have been mauled too," Molly said angrily.
"I took all the necessary precautions, Molly," Remus answered. "The bones were in a closet. They're not...it's not natural for bones to be this clean. I think..." he paused. "Listen, I think whoever it was, they were -- they were fed to something."
The faces around him were pale. Mundungus Fletcher put down his bowl of stew and pushed it away slowly. The twins looked slightly green.
"The snake," Harry said quietly. Molly turned to look at him. "I bet it was the snake."
"We've got to go back there," Mad-Eye said. "Who knows what else they left behind."
"I don't think -- " Molly began, but Remus shook his head.
"If only to defuse any other traps. Muggles can see the house again now. Won't be long before someone goes investigating. We need to find out who owns it, if it's a Muggle."
"Dangerous," Mad-Eye grunted. "I'm coming along."
"Then Molly's not going back to her area alone."
"There's nothing more to see," Molly sighed. "Dead end."
"You're sure?"
"Never saw a less magical place in my life," Mad-Eye confirmed. Remus rubbed a hand over his face, tiredly.
"I need to eat," he said finally. "Then we'll go back. Molly, will you stay here and look after Severus?"
"Of course, the poor man," Molly said. Fred snorted.
"Tonks, stay put. Have Molly take a look at you. See a Healer if you have to," he said.
"No fight here," she replied. "The longer I sit the more I feel like I got run down by a hippogriff."
He smiled and reached out to pull one last piece of rubbish out of her hair. "Get yourself a wash."
"Boss' orders," she said, with a grin at Harry and the twins as she rose. "When you go back, let Mad-Eye go first," she continued. "He's got into the habit of surviving."
"So've I," Remus replied. "Don't worry, we'll be safe."
She leaned up to kiss him on the cheek, much to his embarrassment and surprise. "Don't fall through any ceilings," she said affectionately.
Chapter 5
For years and years, and over nought;
They made life awkward for their friends,
And shortened their own dividends.
-- Edwin Arlington Robinson
Tonks was gone when Remus woke, the first time that had happened, and he realised he'd overslept; the house was too quiet for it to be breakfast, and there was too much sunlight for it to be early. He tumbled out of the bed and wandered his way, half-conscious, through a shower and shave, through dressing and down to the kitchen, where the remains of the breakfast dishes were sitting in the sink.
He had things to do; several people had brought reports with them to Harry's party, which he had to read and decipher into useful information. Severus, through Arthur, had mentioned that he'd narrowed the field of possibilities for Voldemort's stronghold to five or six places, and if they were going to try to find them, they'd best do it soon.
There was the morning owl post to see to -- two belated cards and the usual yearly Hogwarts letter for Harry, and a long-past-due bill from a bookshop in Knockturn Alley for some volumes he'd purchased a few months ago. He sighed and laid it next to the pile of reports. If he sold that essay...
No replies from the journals he'd sent it to, as of yet. He laid the cards out for Harry -- backfiring noises from behind the house would seem to indicate he was playing with the motorbike, though he'd been strictly forbidden to ride it unsupervised until he'd had some more practice.
One more envelope -- no, just a piece of folded paper -- slipped through his fingers, and he caught it before it drifted to the floor.
Remus --
Sorry I left early this morning. You need to get out of that house more.
6pm Galileo's, Sosi Alley.
Don't bring Harry. If you do, I'll hurt you.
-- "Dora"
He smiled. At least she hadn't called him Remy. On the other hand, if someone else had come in and gotten to the mail first...
Well, it wasn't as though they had to keep it a secret. It was just that people were going to raise their eyebrows, he thought. A pushing-middle-age werewolf and a just-from-training Auror. And he knew who they were going to raise their eyebrows at.
And this -- Galileo's, in Sosi Alley -- sounded suspiciously like something more than their...hobby. Their hobby wasn't something one did at Galileo's. Not unless one was at the very dimmest table, and far more adventurous than Remus Lupin would ever admit to being.
He was probably being foolish. He had been at Headquarters a lot, recently, but then he had responsibilities here, especially with Harry about. She probably just wanted him to take an evening off. She was, after all, his friend first.
The thought of what she was "second" did strange things to his body temperature.
There was another roar from the back yard, and a string of cursewords. Remus smiled to himself and gathered up his reports, heading for the back porch. He could keep an eye on Harry, read, make notes, and still tell Tonks that he did indeed spend most of the day out of the house.
Harry was sitting next to the motorbike, inspecting the engine. Every so often he'd mutter a word in Latin, and it would roar.
"Troubles already?" Remus asked. Harry looked up, a smear of grease on his forehead.
"I want to know how he enchanted it," he said.
"Why?"
"Because Sirius did it," Harry answered. Remus nodded.
"Fair enough. Mind if I keep you company?"
"Long as you don't mind hearing me swear."
"Can I look disapproving?"
"Sure," Harry said with a smile, and turned back to his work. "You don't happen to know, do you?"
"No, Sirius never even told us he had one until it was done," Remus said absently, riffling through the sheets of parchment. "James might have known..."
He glanced up and saw Harry watching him, a strange look in his eyes.
"Sorry," he said softly. "That was thoughtless of me."
"It's all right," Harry replied, wiping his forehead with his arm and turning back to the machine. "At least you don't walk around it like everyone else does."
"Well, I don't -- what?"
"Dumbledore does it all the time," Harry said, apparently to the fuel tank. "You watch. Whenever he talks to me. It's like he's talking to my dad, and he just doesn't want to admit it."
"He probably just sees the resemblance. So do I, if it comes to that."
"Sirius did it too. More after he came back here," Harry continued. "Even Mr. Weasley does it. Only with him it's like he's talking to me, but he's thinking about every...single...word...he says."
"I'm sure he doesn't do that, Harry," Remus said, though he was already reaching back in his memory to consider things.
"Remus...no offence..." Harry grunted, tightening a nut somewhere in the depths of the mechanism, "But you didn't even know you were leading the Order until Arthur Weasley told you."
He glanced up at Remus' stunned face. "Tonks mentioned it me," he said, and went back to the machine. "It's fine. The point is, you don't do what they do. And when I'm let into the Order people will see I'm not my dad. Or a ghost."
He started the bike up then, and Remus couldn't even hear himself over the roar, let alone speak to Harry. So he bent to his pages, beginning to plan for the next Order mission.
It was going to be a big one, he thought. A concerted effort, something with careful planning. Small teams of two, checking in on a regular basis...he'd go out himself, he decided, and let the twins run things from the house, it'd be good experience and he wanted the older members doing the actual work. Any stronghold of Voldemort's would be heavily warded. He doubted even Dumbledore would get past them, let alone Fred and George Weasley...but they had to try.
He looked up from the hand-drawn map that Arthur had included in his brief report, on which he was making copious notes, to check on Harry. He'd never realised that Harry's hair wasn't all one shade; like his own, it was shot through with lighter colours, the roots of which were bleaching in the sun.
Sixteen years ago, they would have spent a day like this at the little house in Godric's Hollow, James and Lily continually fussing over Harry while Sirius teased his friend about being a father already, and Remus and Peter regarded the boy with wary affection.
Not much change there, then. Harry was still slightly alien, never fully open to anyone, especially now that Sirius was gone. Remus knew the feeling, and knew Harry would survive it -- hadn't he survived it himself for the better part of three decades?
He wished like hell the boy didn't have to, though.
"I think I've got it," Harry announced triumphantly. "Variation on the basic Wingardium, isn't it? Much more complicated, but it's all down to the base spell...I think I could rework it if I had to."
Remus tilted his head, and smiled. "Got your father's brains," he said.
Harry gave him a solemn nod, and dusted himself off.
"You want lunch?" he asked. "I'd rather not just feed myself. I'm used to cooking for four."
***
Remus lay his papers on the table and went to the cupboard to take down plates and cups. Harry found bread and meat, lettuce and onions, and some self-slicing cheese which, when tapped with a wand, would provide perfect thin slices every time. He made sandwiches, following Remus' absent directions for his, while the older man poured lemonade for Harry and one of the apparently random bottles of beer in the icebox for himself. Halfway to the table, Remus lifted his head, listening intently.
"Better cut some more bread," he said. "Turkey, mustard, cheese, lettuce, no onions."
"Who...?" Harry asked, confused.
"Dumbledore's coming," Remus replied, taking down a third cup. He gave Harry a sly smile. "Werewolf senses," he explained. Harry nodded, and cut two more slices of bread.
Dumbledore did arrive, not a minute later, and a warm breeze blew through the dim, chilly house when he walked through the door. Remus, mouth full of sandwich, gestured to the third plate, and Dumbledore smiled.
"You are perpetually anticipating me," he said, seating himself, eating neatly for a man with a voluminous beard and moustache. "It's a pleasant day out -- "
"I'm calling a meeting," Remus said. Dumbledore bowed his head a little.
"Anticipatory and direct," he murmured.
"The Dark Lord's stronghold," Remus continued, unfolding the map he'd been working on, daring Dumbledore to send Harry away. The map was covered in concentric circles, some running off the page; Dumbledore examined it with interest.
"Mostly Severus' work, isn't it?" he asked. "Fine draftsmanship."
"Kingsley's been checking his work. It's sound."
"Eight likely spots."
"And a dozen unlikely ones. But I thought we ought to at least get a start."
Dumbledore's eyes slid to Harry again, and Remus shook his head.
"Harry and the twins can stay here and monitor things. Not taking reports, just making sure nobody gets hurt," Remus continued. "The end of the week. Nobody's working. Just a day in the countryside."
"All over the countryside," Dumbledore observed.
"Yes," Remus replied. "All over."
Dumbledore sat silently, watching Remus, and the werewolf had the eerie sensation that his thoughts were far too similar to the thoughts Remus himself had entertained, watching Harry.
Three generations of secrecy, he thought sadly. Three generations of not...quite...understanding.
Then the older man nodded and returned to the map. "Don't choose who goes where until we know who can come. I'll put the word about."
"Have you spoken to Kingsley, recently?" Remus asked, significantly. Dumbledore nodded. "And...?"
"Severus will be there," was all the Headmaster would say. "Excellent sandwich, Harry, thank you. Remus, I'd like to speak to you alone, if I may? No, Harry, finish your lunch," he added, as the boy stood, slightly sullen, to leave. "We'll walk out, if Remus doesn't object."
Dumbledore led the way out the front door and down into the city street, and Remus heard a soft, windy noise as Headquarters vanished from view. He fell into step beside his Headmaster, the man who, if Severus Snape was right, had him by a very short leash.
"Things are changing, and quickly," Dumbledore said, as they walked. Remus nodded. "You've begun to take more of an interest in Order affairs. In putting the Order's affairs to rights, as it were."
"If I've overstepped -- "
"No, Remus. You are very careful never to overstep your bounds," Dumbledore interrupted. "I don't disapprove."
"But...?"
"But I wonder why this change," Dumbledore replied. "I wonder why you have...assumed the role you were being prepared for, so early."
"You never do anything without a reason, do you?"
"Oh, I do many things without reason," Dumbledore replied, with a sunny smile.
"Not when it comes to the Order."
That seemed to silence the Headmaster, and they walked on for a while without speaking.
"Arthur told me I was being looked to," Remus said finally. "So I thought I ought to do something worth watching."
"And you are no longer a prefect."
"No. Certainly not."
"And it has nothing to do with your new...friendship with Nymphadora?"
Remus sighed. "My personal friendships are the last thing I want people to see when they look at me. Especially this one."
"I hear Severus Snape was fairly badly bruised."
"That was Tonks."
"Indeed."
Remus stopped walking, and crossed his arms. "You know, you did say I wasn't a Prefect anymore. You can't go through life treating everyone as if they never left school, Dumbledore."
"I find that technique works extremely well in most cases, actually," Dumbledore replied, flashing that confident smile again. "Kingsley Shacklebolt suspects Severus of being a spy. Arthur Weasley suspects Mundungus Fletcher of being a dupe. And are you...afraid...of anyone in the Order? You said yourself you felt you ought to take the job when it was offered."
Remus thought for an instant about Tonks. About how young women did not seduce men ten years older than them without a reason, and especially prematurely-greying, borderline-alcoholic, highly nonsocial werewolves.
"No," he said slowly. "Unless we know there's a spy, it's useless to suspect anyone. Even Severus Snape."
Dumbledore nodded, eyes never leaving Remus' face.
"If you do have suspicions, I'd like to hear them," he said. "Tell Harry goodbye, would you?"
Remus nodded, and Dumbledore Disapparated, leaving him alone on the street.
***
Sosi Alley was the fashionable district of the magical quarter that Diagon Alley opened into; it was mostly brick, with iron terraces and traditional green doors. Most of the storefronts were old converted houses; Galileo's, which dominated the street, was one of the few buildings that had obviously been meant as a restaurant from the start. The front of the building was almost entirely glass: windows in wooden frames, which stretched from the flower-boxes on the ground to the ceiling. They were open in the summer evening, and the sound of people talking and eating drifted out.
Inside, the restaurant was...different. Out on the street the sun was still up and it washed the brick to vivid orange and reds; inside, the light was blue and silver, and it was easy to see why.
The ceiling didn't even appear to exist -- instead, like the high ceilings of the Hogwarts great hall, it was enchanted to look like a brilliant night sky, stars sparkling down on the diners. Every so often, clouds drifted across, lit by lighting, to the awe and approval of those at the small, linen-covered tables.
"You could try being late, just once," said a voice behind him, and he turned to smile at Tonks, standing in the doorway.
"I was admiring your choice of location," he said, fighting down the little voice in the back of his head which said there was no way he could afford even his own meal in a place like this.
"Kingsley recommended it," she said, taking his arm as a silent, dignified maitre'd led them to a back table. "He said it never failed."
"Never fai...oh." Remus raised his eyebrows. "Did you really have worries on that front, Tonks?"
She laughed. "I thought you'd like to go out for an evening."
"If the house burns down while I'm gone, because I left Harry with the twins, I'm telling Dumbledore to blame you," he replied.
"I'll take the fall."
He smiled and opened his menu, allowing the minutiae of ordering food and wine to fill his mind, pushing his suspicions and worries away. The wine helped, and so did Tonks, who distracted him with talk of her job, and Wizarding politics, and the Prophet's latest editorials.
He couldn't recall when he had so entirely managed to avoid thinking of work, or worrying about...well, about anything.
That probably wasn't a good thing, he thought, fingers idly turning his wineglass. Tonks was saying something about proper use of the word "they're" as opposed to "there" in editorials, and he wasn't quite following it, but that was all right; it was just talk, and Tonks liked to fill the silences.
"You look like you're thinking something devious," she said, grinning at him.
"I'm not thinking at all," he replied.
"My nefarious plan succeeds!" she laughed. "Good for you, Remus."
He smiled and drained the last of the wine. "Plotting my downfall, hm?"
"No, just a gentle slide away from round-the-clock worrying," Tonks said.
"I don't worry round the clock," he protested. She lifted an eyebrow. "I sleep at least five hours a night."
"Yes, what a wild life you lead," Tonks murmured. "Come on, let's get out of here."
"The check -- "
" -- it's taken care of," she said, standing. He got to his feet, curious. "I did a favour for the owner once."
"Should I ask?"
"Confidential."
"You didn't break the law, did you?"
She grinned. "It's a little bendy, you know, when you're an Auror. And don't..."
"...worry," he sighed. She reached up and drew her fingers through a cloud passing over the heads of the diners, sending grey wisps eddying away. When they stepped outside, she slid her arm around his waist and leaned against him, smiling. He settled his own arm around her shoulders.
"You liked dinner, didn't you?" she asked.
"I did indeed."
"And you're glad to get out of Headquarters?"
"Tonks, are you worrying?" he asked, as they passed out of Sosi Alley and into the main street.
"Just taking a poll," she replied. "I'm free tonight, you know."
"I deduced you might be."
"We could go look in the shops, or get a drink at the Leaky Cauldron."
"Or go home," he murmured, in her ear, and felt a pleasant shiver go through her.
"Let's walk a little," she replied.
"That sounds good." He felt her arm tighten, and became aware of his breathing.
Shallow. She'd warned him about that.
He forced himself to breathe more deeply, and smelled the rich scent of Diagon Alley -- sun-warmed streets, chill sweetness from Florian Fortescue's ice cream parlour, dust and dry paper from Flourish & Blott's.
"I think," he said, as they passed storefronts and shop windows, "that I truly enjoy this hobby. And so far it's remarkably inexpensive."
"That's the beauty of the hobby," she replied, but he felt her tense a little.
"Cold?" he asked.
"No, not at all," Tonks said, and he nodded. He was imagining the tension in her shoulders, the slight pull of her arm.
Imagining it.
***
The meeting was called for that Friday evening -- at least that way they could relax while they contemplated possible doom. Tonks, on arriving, was the first to point this out, but she wasn't the last; as Mundungus Fletcher arrived (late, as usual) Bill Weasley was just saying that he felt Lupin had scheduled this on purpose, in order to get them drunk before sending them to their deaths. Remus, who was handing him a whiskey sour as he said it, merely smiled and pointed out that everyone was assuming he had their deaths all planned out.
"Makes it easier when we don't die," Bill replied.
"That's a good habit to cultivate," Moody said, in all seriousness.
"Not dying?" Bill asked.
"Lupin, why are we here?" Snape interrupted. "I'm assuming it has more import than listening to Weasley and Moody debate semantics."
"We're here because of you, Severus," Remus replied. The bruising on Snape's cheekbone had healed nicely -- more the pity, really. He had seen the bruises when Snape had come to work with Harry, most mornings, and he thought some of the Order would dearly like to see it too. "Your work."
He spread the map -- now annotated in several shades of ink -- on the table. "We know that the Dark Lord has a stronghold somewhere in England. He knows we have one."
"Even-hand standoff," Moody grunted. Remus nodded.
"Hopefully not for long."
"Fortunately we have no nefarious plots to carry out in the near future," Tonks put in. "So we've got the manpower to go looking, and the information on where to start."
"Right in one," Remus nodded.
"Field trip!" Bill Weasley laughed. "We going snake-hunting?"
"More or less. I want at least one older, experienced member on each team. Fletcher and Tonks, Arthur and Bill, Molly and Moody, Arabella and Kingsley, and Severus, you're with me. Dumbledore and McGonagall couldn't be here, but they've already drawn the northern area."
"What about us?" Fred asked.
"You two and Harry are to stay here and monitor. Every team checks in with Fred or George before leaving, and every two hours with one of the three. If someone finds anything, we want to know about it. That way if you do die, Bill, it won't have been in vain."
"Good to know," Bill said ruefully.
"You'll be going amongst Muggles, so remember to try and blend in. If you have questions, ask Arabella. We want to know if anything strange has been happening, any odd lights, strangely-dressed people...other than us, I suppose," he sighed, taking in Fletcher's brightly striped robes. "Any local cults or strange clubs. Anything that feels wrong. You know what to look for. Try to be aware. Try not to get murdered unnecessarily."
"You're all hope, Remus," Arthur murmured.
"This is a big operation, our biggest so far. I want everyone reporting back here in person by Sunday evening. Otherwise, where you search is at your discretion...and luck of the draw," he added. He handed half the group small slips of parchment. "Those are the names of likely towns. If you don't find anything in town, spread out from there."
He consulted the last slip he'd saved, and looked at Snape. "We're in Little Hangleton."
"I know the place," Snape said, his voice low. The others began comparing papers. A few, he noticed, traded them.
"I don't want anyone starting tonight. Tomorrow morning, tell someone where you're going -- both of you -- and remember to call in. Thanks to Hermione..." he said, drawing a handful of Galleons out of his pocket, "that shouldn't be hard. These'll turn warm when you're supposed to check back. Press down on it and Fred and George will know you're all right. If you have to pass information back, Apparate or Floo to the house. Don't split up," he added sternly.
Kingsley gave him a facetious salute, and he smiled.
"I boss because I don't want anyone dying," Remus said carefully. "Any questions?"
"If we do die, are you going to yell at us?" Fletcher asked, and the meeting broke up, amid laughs and good-natured claps on the back. Snape, barely stopping, hissed that he would be there at eight sharp the next morning, and he didn't want to have to wait. Remus nodded and let it pass. The man'd had enough abuse at his hands lately.
He was pleased to see that some people stayed to drink and talk; he found he was forming very clear ideas about what the Order ought to be, and one of those ideas was that people in the Order should be...well, friends. People who spoke to each other because they wanted to. People who could complain to each other.
This leadership thing wasn't half bad, he decided.
He should have known the warm feeling of a job well done was too good to last.
"Remus, can I have a word?" Tonks asked, sidling up next to him as he tacked the map to a wall, and laid the Galleons on a table below it.
"Of course -- is something wrong?" he asked, noticing she hadn't touched the drink in her hand, and was looking rather less cheerful than usual.
"In private?"
"Right now?"
She bit her lips, and it was obvious that "yes, right now" was warring with "this is personal". He suddenly doubted that this private talk was going to be as enjoyable as some they'd had.
***
When they walked into one of the empty rooms near the stairway -- once the servants' rooms, now mostly used for storage or as guest rooms -- Tonks set her glass on the table, her back to him, and crossed her arms.
"What's going on?" he asked, coming forward, but not quite all the way. She clearly didn't want him that close to her, and he was exceptionally good at body language, most of the time.
"How did you make out the teams?" she asked quietly. "Did you list them out beforehand?"
"I couldn't, I didn't know who could come. I mean, some of them -- mostly I just saw who was there. Why?"
"Did you know you were going to send Kingsley out with Arabella? And me with Fletcher?"
"Well, I knew I could trust -- Tonks, what are you getting at?"
"Snape," she said, biting off the end of the word viciously. "You're taking Snape."
"Well, Kingsley doesn't trust him, Arthur couldn't control him, you slapped him, Fletcher and Bill both hate him, and Dumbledore asked for McGonagall. Besides, I needed someone I can trust with Fletcher." He crossed his arms, and bowed his head. "Is that a problem?"
"Well, Kingsley asked for him specifically because he doesn't trust him, and I rather thought I'd be going along with you. And I don't think your random distribution of towns was all that random," Tonks added. "I think you saved the one Snape's got his hopes pinned on for yourself."
"I'm not going to send anyone out to do a thing I wouldn't do myself."
"First rule of leadership."
"For a reason."
"Stupid reason."
"Don't let's fight, Tonks," he said, moving forward. She shrugged out of his grasp when he wrapped an arm around her waist. "Believe me, if it's a choice between a weekend with you and one with Severus Snape, I'd jump for you in a heartbeat. But I've got to do this. I'm not allowed to let anything I think or feel get in the way."
"You never do anyway," she said, crossing her arms again. "That's your tragedy, Remus. You divide things up so finely into little boxes that you can't see anything but the divisions."
"That's not fair, Tonks."
"I never claimed I was fair," she rejoined, harshly.
"No, but I never thought you were cruel, either."
She laughed, bitterly. "Cruel? Cruel is..."
He waited patiently. Finally she put her hands to her face, and sighed. "You wouldn't understand anyway."
"I think that's assuming a lot."
"I don't want reasons, Remus! I know the reasons! I don't want explanations or rational, logical proofs as to why you have to go to Little Hangleton with Severus Snape! I want you to make sympathetic noises and say you're sorry and promise you'll never do it again, even if we both know you will."
He gazed at her, utterly confused. "Why?"
"I said you wouldn't understand. Because that's what I want, I can't explain it. That's what b -- "
She stopped, suddenly, and turned away. "It's what people do. For each other. I don't want logic, Remus. I want comfort."
"I tried to comfort you," he said haplessly. "I did say let's not fight -- "
"After feeding me all sorts of rationality that I don't want to hear!"
"My god, what on earth am I supposed to do?" he asked, spreading his arms. "Tonks, I don't want to fight with you! I don't want to go out there along with a former Death Eater, you know! I don't like it! But I have to do it!"
"This isn't about Snape!"
"You could have bloody fooled me!"
"You just stood there and casually tossed out names, like you'd just thought it up on the spot -- "
" -- most of them I did, once I saw who was there! -- "
" -- and like the fact that you were sending me out with Mundungus Fletcher to face who-knows-what, without even looking at me..."
"What, did you want me to kiss you while I said it?"
She was silent, and he felt shame creep over him; this wasn't fair to either of them, but especially to her.
"I just wanted to know that you thought more of me than just another soldier, that's all," she said, after a moment or two.
He crossed the space between them and caught her as she turned, his hands on her cheeks, one sliding down her throat as he kissed her.
"No one in the Order is just another soldier," he said, against her lips. "And you are not just anyone. You know that. My god, Tonks, the things I've told you -- the things I've let you do -- "
"It'd be nice to hear it, that's all," she whispered, her hands rising to cover his, to pull them away. He leaned back, slightly.
"What do you want me to say? I'll say it," he said. "Do you want me to -- "
" -- no. I just wanted to know that you would," she interrupted.
"That makes no sense."
"I'm not interested in making sense."
He let her move his hands down her body until they rested on her hips; then he pulled her closer.
"I have to be one man for you, and one for the Order," he murmured. "You have to understand that, Tonks."
"Which one's the real one?"
"Can't they both be?"
"Only if they both care. About me. And I don't care if that's selfish."
He breathed deeply, and kissed her hair when she rested her head on his collarbone.
"This is where we start hurting each other, isn't it?" he asked.
"It could be."
"I hate this part."
"Shut up," she said, and he felt the vibration of her speech on his skin. "Just don't talk anymore, all right?"
"All this anger over Severus Snape?" he said, ignoring her request. "He's not worth it, Tonks. Dora," he added, and he felt her snort of laughter.
"You really are wonderfully oblivious sometimes," she said, reaching up to run a hand through his hair, as she'd done with the cloud in Galileo's.
"Everyone keeps saying that," he sighed.
"And now you can stop talking, like I told you to."
"Dora," he murmured, into a kiss that was fast threatening to cut off his air supply. But he didn't speak again until she released him and stepped back.
"I should get some rest. Early morning tomorrow. You should, too."
"Yes, I've got to tour the countryside," he said, in the mimicry of Snape's tones which always made her smile.
"I know it's unreasonable, Remus," she said quietly. "I know it doesn't make sense and it's not what a good Auror would say. But you don't employ me as an Auror." Her fingers lifted a stray lock of hair off his forehead. "You're my...friend. And it's strange to me when I see you giving orders like that. That's all."
She pulled away, just a little; he followed her to the door, and then back into the loud, laughing crowd of Order members, who were already making plans for the following day.
***
As promised, Snape arrived sharply at eight, and Remus was waiting; he initialed their names on the map, gave a farewell salute to Fred and George, and walked out into the front yard of 12 Grimmauld Place.
"You've been," Remus said. "I'll follow you there."
Snape nodded curtly and Disapparated, Remus following a second later. It was always slightly bewildering, following someone to a place you'd never been, but he managed, and when he'd regained his footing he saw that they were standing in a dusty, scrub-covered ditch, next to a paved road.
"This way to town," Snape said, still just barely avoiding Remus. They'd been two of the first to check out with Fred and George; Remus wondered if anyone else was having to put up with similar.
"It's a pretty sort of place, isn't it?" he asked, as they crested a rise and saw the town before them. Snape snorted.
"It has streets and houses enough," he replied.
"Strange to think about the Dark Lord's family living here."
"Generations of ruthless, worthless Muggles."
"I'm sure some of them were all right."
"You have a better view of human nature than I," he answered.
"Well, that's neither here nor there. The point is, there are worse ways to spend a Saturday."
"Than poking about a Muggle village for the most powerful Dark Wizard in a hundred years? Who, incidentally, would be happy to see you dead and probably would purposefully keep me alive if I were caught? Name three."
"Actually being dead, actually being caught, and having food poisoning," Remus said promptly.
"So gratified to know you prefer me to food poisoning."
"It's a slim margin."
"The feeling is mutual."
"I thought it might be," Remus said, kicking a stone as they walked. They were near the village now, and he could see the High Street, a large ornamental fountain at its end. "Shall we have a look round, first? Bit early to go to the pub but I bet we could pick something up if we stopped for breakfast."
"The graveyard is that way," was all Severus said in reply. Remus, who had not slept well enough to fight about it, simply followed.
"Reckon this is where it happened?" he asked, as they climbed the steep hill to the church. Snape looked around him and stepped sideways, staring at the yew tree nearby.
"This was it," he said softly. "That night when he called us...this is where he wanted us to come. The night he came back."
Remus watched as Snape repositioned himself, climbing the hill a little, to turn and look out across the town.
"Something's missing," Snape murmured. "Missing from the picture."
Remus stared around him, eyes narrowing. Now that Snape said it, something tugged at the edge of his consciousness; as though there were a feeling that there was a thing, somewhere, was screaming 'don't look at me'.
It felt, he thought idly, the way James and Lily's house felt after it was destroyed. The lingering effects of the secrecy spell, wearing off now that the building was gone.
"Something there," Snape said, and pointed. There was a shimmering mirage above a grassy field, a whisper in the air. Remus squinted.
"It's a trap," Snape murmured. "Or it's abandoned. It wouldn't be so easy."
Because now, out of the air, a house was forming slowly; if they concentrated, they could see large, sprawling lines -- a rich house, nearly a mansion. Growing more solid by the minute.
"How on earth..." Remus said, as the last line shook and solidified. Snape took a few steps towards the house, circling downward towards the gate of the graveyard.
Remus, standing above him on the hill, glanced down at the gravestone next to him. It was cracked, and the bottom grown with moss. It bore quite a simple legend.
TOM RIDDLE.
"Let's check in with Fred and George," he said cautiously. Snape nodded, and vanished without a word. A second later he was back, and Remus didn't bother to scold him for leaving a partner behind.
***
Inside the house it was cool, and smelled of dust; they entered cautiously, wands out, Snape walking ahead. It was a sprawling place, once richly decorated, and it reminded Remus of 12 Grimmauld Place before Molly's cleaning squad.
The smell of dust gave way to the scent of rancid food and rotting garbage as they passed the kitchen; Remus leaned through the doorway, noting the spoilt food on the counter, the filthy dishes overflowing the sink. Someone had been here, and they hadn't cared to clean when they left.
There were smears of rusty brown on the floor. He reached out and tugged on Snape's sleeve, stepping into the kitchen.
"Blood," he said. "You can smell it."
"Bodies?" Snape asked, in a voice that was too calm to be quite believable. Remus opened a tall cupboard in the corner.
"I don't think so," he replied. "I think we'd know."
"Looks like they left in a rush," Snape commented, stepping calmly over the streaks on the floor to investigate the counter.
"D'you think Voldemort was here?"
"I think so."
"Me too," Remus replied grimly. "Left after the fight in the Ministry, reckon?"
"Or shortly before. They had to have known someone would come looking for them. They've been gone long enough for the fruit to spoil," Snape said with distaste.
"Let's look upstairs."
"Oh yes, do let's," Snape replied sardonically, but he followed the other man up the creaking staircase.
"Do you suppose we haven't looked here before because of the secrecy spell?" Remus asked.
"Indubitably. I knew Dumbledore suspected the death of the caretaker was linked to the Dark Lord's rise, but..." Snape stopped at the top of the stairs, looking around at the dusty interior. "I can't imagine why he never investigated the place Frank Bryce was living in."
"Unless...it was hidden and warded..."
"Exactly." Snape stepped forward, pushing open a door, and for the Potions Master, the world went temporarily black.
***
Fred and George were working on new order forms for the business, heads bent over the desk, and Harry was monitoring the coins, as well as the map; a couple of the explorers had already floo'ed back, momentarily, to make reports.
"Coming on noon," Fred said thoughtfully. "Feel like lunch, Harry?"
"Suppose so," Harry replied. "Bet if we wait a few minutes your mum'll check in."
George laughed. "Carrying something she just happened to pick up on the way back."
"Bet you a sickle Remus does it too," Fred put in.
There was a thudding noise, and the flames in the fireplace burst into a brilliant array of colour before slowly revealing two people, who tumbled onto the enormous hearth.
"Told you -- " Fred began, but Harry had stood so fast his chair fell over, and George, who was closest to the fireplace, was already moving forward.
Remus Lupin, cheek smeared with ash, arms supporting an unconscious Severus Snape, grinned up at them.
"Funny fact," he said, as George and Harry helped him drag Snape onto the carpet. "Did you know the Riddle house is hooked up to the Floo network illegally?"
"What happened?" Fred demanded. "Did he try to attack you?"
"Did you have to hit him?" George added.
"Again?" Harry asked.
"That was Tonks, and no, he didn't do anything," Remus sighed. "Except walk through a booby-trapped door."
"Dumbledore's NEVER going to let him teach Dark Arts now!" Fred crowed.
"He's been out for about three hours. He was bleeding pretty badly, I didn't want to move him until I'd got him under control," Remus said. "That's not all."
"What else?" Harry asked. Remus reached into the bag Snape had carried, and pulled out a shining white skull. The boys' amused expressions faded.
"Whose is it?" Fred asked softly.
"I suspect the caretaker's," Remus replied. "I left the rest of the bones there, but I thought Dumbledore ought to see it. There are..." he coughed. "Well, there are advanced spells for this sort of thing. You need the skull."
There was a loud crack outside the window, and Harry ran to look. "It's Tonks and Fletcher," he called. "And Mrs. Weasley and Moody."
"Has she got lunch?" George asked. Remus gave him a scolding look. "Well, I don't stop being hungry just because Severus Snape's not bright enough to knock first."
"If I'd been nearer the door, I would have done the same thing, George," Remus replied. "Harry, help me take him to his -- "
"Tonks doesn't look so good," Harry said, backing away from the window, and running to the front door of the mansion. Remus froze.
Light spilled in as Harry threw the door open. Remus stayed, crouched over Snape, as Molly's voice became audible, questioning, soothing. He watched Fletcher and Molly back through the doorway, and heard with a nearly physical sense of relief when Tonks answered them.
"I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine," she said. "Molly, really. Just let me get to a chair."
"Listen to the woman, Weasley," came Mad-Eye's voice. The pair of them walked in together, Tonks limping slightly. Her clothes were powdered in white, and there were bits of splintered wood in her hair, not to mention a truly spectacular bruise developing on her jaw.
"What on earth happened to -- " Molly stopped, suddenly, as she saw Remus, crouching near the unconscious Snape. "Well, for crying out loud."
Tonks turned too, and blinked. "Did you fall through the ceiling too?" she asked.
"The ceiling?" Remus asked in reply. "You fell through a ceiling?"
"Actually it was a floor...well, I thought it was a floor..." she limped to a chair and accepted a bag of ice from one of the twins. "Ta, Fred. Molly, it's all right, I'm okay. Embarrassed, but that's nothing new..."
"You fell through a ceiling?" Remus repeated.
"Constant vigilance!" Mad-Eye Moody declared.
"I wasn't expecting the architecture to attack me," answered Tonks, a trifle sarcastically.
"Should have done. S'what happened to Snape, innit?" Moody asked. Remus, pulling himself away from the 'fell through a ceiling' concept, nodded.
"He walked through a booby-trapped door," he sighed. "Believe me when I say that spending three hours on the floor of the former headquarters of the Dark Lord, trying to stop the bleeding, is not the way to spend a Saturday morning. Although," he reflected cryptically, "it still beats food poisoning."
"So you found something?" Tonks asked, leaning forward. Plaster dust cascaded off her. Molly tsked.
"You ought to change and see to yourself first," she said severely.
"I'm just bruised," Tonks said dismissively. Remus was still watching her. "What happened? Should we go have a look?"
"You're not going anywhere," Fletcher put in. "She didn't half give me a fright, Lupin. 'I'll have a look around upstairs' says she, and the floor gives way and all I can think is 'Well, I guess she found the fastest way down'."
Tonks made a sound that was suspiciously like a giggle.
"Lupin..." Mad-Eye said, thoughtfully, looking at the table. "You want to tell us whose skull that is?"
Remus straightened and sighed. "Mobilicorpus minimus," he murmured, and Snape rose into the air. "I'll get him settled. Then I want to hear about the ceiling," he added, as he moved Snape out of the room.
"Not more than we want to hear about the skull," Mad-Eye replied.
He heard them talking in quiet voices as he pushed Snape down the hallway towards his room and dropped him onto the bed. He was fairly sure he'd at least started the healing on most of the man's injuries; he wasn't a Healer, but he knew a trick or two of the trade. It'd been a long time since he'd seen that much blood.
When he returned, Mad-Eye was holding the skull, poking his fingers into the eye-sockets curiously; Tonks was picking bits of wood out of her hair, and the twins and Harry were bent over the lunch that Molly had, indeed, brought back with her. Mundungus Fletcher could be heard crashing about in the kitchen, and Molly was sitting on the edge of the sofa, next to Harry.
"Put it down," Remus said tiredly, and Mad-Eye set the skull back on the table. "I think it belongs to Frank Bryce."
"To who?" Tonks asked.
"He was caretaker at the Riddle house. He disappeared just before the last Quidditch World Cup. Dumbledore took it as part of a sign that the Dark Lord was being resurrected."
"Doesn't do us much good now," Mad-Eye grunted.
"It might, at some point." Remus leaned on the table in front of Tonks. "Now. Tell me about the ceiling."
She stopped in the middle of pulling another bit of wood out of her hair.
"We asked around," she sighed. "Turns out the orphanage Tom Riddle grew up in was closed a couple of years ago. Fire hazards. Plus they said that they don't call them orphanages anymore."
"Group Foster Homes, whatever that means," Fletcher said, putting his head through the doorway.
"Right...but there wasn't anything else in town to see -- well, one thing, but..." she shrugged. "We went up to the orphanage and had a look around. I said I'd see about the upstairs. I left Mundungus -- there were some files still in the office, I thought maybe we could find something out."
"Next thing I know, there's an almighty crash, and down she comes in a shower of rubbish," Fletcher put in.
"The floor was wood-beam and stucco. The wood had rotted away and the rest wouldn't hold my weight. Did break my fall though," she added cheerfully. "I've had worse."
"And you're all right? No broken bones?"
"Nah. I'll put a heating charm on my blanket tonight, keep me from stiffening up. I'm fine, Remus. Really."
He nodded, and realised that both Mad-Eye and Molly were looking at him oddly. He cleared his throat.
"You said there was something else...?"
"We found a Crinon," Fletcher said, carrying a bowl of stew into the room. He began to devour it, eating quickly but neatly as he talked. "It's a Muggle village, there's no wizarding going on there, so we thought it was a bit odd."
"A Crinon? In the middle of a Muggle village?" Molly asked.
"What's a Crinon?" Harry put in. Everyone looked at him; they'd forgotten he and the twins were still there. Now Remus saw that Fred and George were taking notes onto the map, and Harry was listening intently.
"I'd like to know too," George put in hastily.
"Crinon's Peculiar Fountain," Remus said distantly. "Mad-Eye, you know more about them than I do."
"Shame Snape's out cold, he knows the most," Mad-Eye said gruffly. "Tough trick to do. Not many wizards could manage it, even the experienced ones."
"It's a sort of potion, isn't it?" Molly asked.
"Oh aye. Tis water magic. Hardest sort," said Mad-Eye, rubbing his chin.
"When it's done right, it still looks like water. Only the water's made itself into a fountain. It's constantly re-cycling and cleaning itself," Remus said. "So if you have enough water to fill the bottom of a fountain, and you build the potion around the thing itself, it'll look like you've got a clean-running fountain. Without water pipes, or even a pump."
"When in fact it's the same water over and over, until someone stops it. Or until the water's gone," Mad-Eye added.
"And there are charms to keep that from happening," Tonks added. "Which this one had."
"What's something like that doing in the middle of a Muggle town?" Harry asked.
"That's a good question," replied Tonks. She brushed at the plaster on her robe. "What'd you find?" she asked, but Remus was thinking back to the walk into town. They'd seen the High Street, and at the end had been a large, ornamental fountain...
"Remus?" Molly asked.
"Sorry," he said, shaking his head. "We found...hm. The grounds of the old Riddle House. The whole thing had been under a secrecy spell, but it was already fading by the time we got there. We were standing in the...erm, in the graveyard," he said, glancing at Harry, who nodded slowly. "We went up to investigate the house...there's blood and spoilt food in the kitchen, and a magical trap on the upstairs room. Some sort of curse -- Severus walked in and something mauled him. By the time I'd stopped it..." he shrugged. "I stopped the bleeding. It took a couple of hours to get him safe to floo back. I tried the hearth in the room -- an illegal connection to the floo network. Clever charm, really..." he trailed off.
"What about Yorick there?" Tonks asked.
"Who?" Molly asked.
"The skull."
"There was a closet..." Remus said slowly. "I poked around a bit while Severus was healing..."
"You could have been mauled too," Molly said angrily.
"I took all the necessary precautions, Molly," Remus answered. "The bones were in a closet. They're not...it's not natural for bones to be this clean. I think..." he paused. "Listen, I think whoever it was, they were -- they were fed to something."
The faces around him were pale. Mundungus Fletcher put down his bowl of stew and pushed it away slowly. The twins looked slightly green.
"The snake," Harry said quietly. Molly turned to look at him. "I bet it was the snake."
"We've got to go back there," Mad-Eye said. "Who knows what else they left behind."
"I don't think -- " Molly began, but Remus shook his head.
"If only to defuse any other traps. Muggles can see the house again now. Won't be long before someone goes investigating. We need to find out who owns it, if it's a Muggle."
"Dangerous," Mad-Eye grunted. "I'm coming along."
"Then Molly's not going back to her area alone."
"There's nothing more to see," Molly sighed. "Dead end."
"You're sure?"
"Never saw a less magical place in my life," Mad-Eye confirmed. Remus rubbed a hand over his face, tiredly.
"I need to eat," he said finally. "Then we'll go back. Molly, will you stay here and look after Severus?"
"Of course, the poor man," Molly said. Fred snorted.
"Tonks, stay put. Have Molly take a look at you. See a Healer if you have to," he said.
"No fight here," she replied. "The longer I sit the more I feel like I got run down by a hippogriff."
He smiled and reached out to pull one last piece of rubbish out of her hair. "Get yourself a wash."
"Boss' orders," she said, with a grin at Harry and the twins as she rose. "When you go back, let Mad-Eye go first," she continued. "He's got into the habit of surviving."
"So've I," Remus replied. "Don't worry, we'll be safe."
She leaned up to kiss him on the cheek, much to his embarrassment and surprise. "Don't fall through any ceilings," she said affectionately.
Chapter 5
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The food poisoning was some kind of in joke, but I honestly can't recall from where, now...