Chapter 2

Ron and I attended the funeral – hidden in the back, of course. Nothing seemed amiss, although Narcissa Malfoy was curiously absent. Lucius acted the properly grieving father. Ron overheard him explaining that Narcissa had taken the loss of her only son and grandson very hard and was now unable to leave her home. Few others bothered to show up – certainly no one who appeared out of place.

Another week went by with no further information. I sat at my desk, feet propped up on one corner and a cig in my hand, poring over the crime scene photos for the millionth time. I had seen grislier images in my lifetime, to be sure, but there was something about seeing a one-year-old child lying dead in the street that shook me to my core. Malfoy or no Malfoy, no child deserved to die like that.

A knock at my door startled me. “Come in, Robards, but I've got nothing new for you,” I called.

But it wasn't Robards at the door.

“Tonks!” I said with some surprise. I rarely got to see her anymore; I could barely tell you when I last saw Remus. It had been … hard … for me when they split up after the war, but I should have made more of an effort to see them. To see Teddy. My lip curled in self-reproach.

“Harry,” she sobbed, rushing in. “Harry, he's ...” She sank to her knees next to me, her unusually dull brown hair contrasting with a face red from crying.

“Teddy,” I whispered, reaching out and gathering her into a hug. “What happened?”

“He's at St. Mungo's,” her voice caught in the back of her throat. “They think he was poisoned – they're not sure if he's … Harry, he's my baby!”

I had felt fear in my life, but it had been years since I had felt my heart pound, my muscles constrict, my pulse race like that.

“Start from the beginning,” I ordered.

Between sobs, Tonks told me that she had come home from her shift a bit earlier than normal only to find Teddy lying unconscious on his bedroom floor. She had grabbed him and Apparated to St. Mungo's, and then, once she had known he was stable, she had come here. “Harry, you've got to help me – I've got no one else to turn to,” she cried. “Who would want to kill my baby?”

“And you're sure they said it was poison? He couldn't have gotten into something around the house, nothing that he could have accidentally eaten, drunk?”

“No, no, he's nine years old. He knows better, and you know him – he's smart as a whip. He wouldn't take something from someone he didn't know, and for most of the day he has a sitter with him. He was at home for Merlin's sake! Someone had to come into my home!” Tonks was shaking in fury in my arms, rage and fear emanating from her in waves. The lights in my office flickered.

“Yeah, I know,” I said. “We'll figure it out, Tonks. I promise.” The Malfoy case would have to wait. No one hurts my family and gets away with it.

I visited Teddy that night in hospital. He looked so small in the oversized bed, his hair a dull replica of his mother's. The mediwitches had confirmed their earlier suspicions that evening – he had, in fact, ingested a lethal dosage of poison, and if Tonks hadn't found him when she did, he probably would not have survived.

I sat outside with Tonks after they told us. For once, she accepted my offer of a cigarette, and from afar it would have seemed to any passerby that we were just two friends having a smoke. But one look at her face told a different story.

“Someone tried to kill my son, Harry. What kind of bloody fucking toerag of a wizard would want to kill my son? Why? What possible threat is he to someone? He's never been in trouble a day in his life, never pissed anyone off. Everyone loves him – everyone,” she ranted, her face contorted with anger. Underneath the pale glow of the street lamp, I could see her hair flickering, changing colors with blinding speed.

“Maybe it's not about him,” I said, gazing steadily at her.

“You ... you think this is about me,” Tonks said.

“You can't think of anyone that would want to get back at you by hurting him?” I asked.

“You can't possibly think that ... that Remus did this!” She gasped, going still.

To tell you the truth, that thought hadn't occurred to me, but it said something that it had occurred to her, so I let her finish. “Couldn't I?” I asked.

“Harry, things may have ended pretty bloody painfully, but that was years ago. I'm over it. I thought he was over it too. And as far as I can tell, he's been a bloody good father to Teddy,” she grated.

“So, you don't think he could do this, then,” I said quietly.

“He's the father of my child,” she spat. “As many times as we've fought with each other, maybe even hated each other at times, he could never do this. Not to Teddy. And not to me.”

I nodded carefully. “I didn't think so, but I had to ask.”

“I know, Harry,” she sighed. “I'm an Auror too, remember.”

“That's kind of what I was trying to say a minute ago,” I responded. “Any recent cases go pear-shaped, anyone you've convicted get out of Azkaban lately? Anyone that would want a bit of revenge on you?”

She sat there thinking, her cig burning down to ash in her uncaring fingers. A gust of wind ruffled her hair. I reached up to fix it.

Her empty eyes came to stare back at me. “I can't think of anyone, Harry. You know I deal mostly with the little stuff these days. Didn't want to risk getting hurt on the job as long as I had Teddy at home full-time. No one's going to come after me because I caught them stealing candy in Hogsmeade, and no one from the … old days … is around anymore. Not really.”

I sighed. Maybe she was right, but something just didn't sit well with me. “Alright then. We'll start fresh in the morning. You need to come home with me and get a good night's sleep. Tomorrow I want you to go through everything in your house. Anything Teddy could have touched, eaten, drunk, smelled, looked at – anything that seems out of place – you bring that to me, and no one else. Here, give me your babysitter's name and information. I'll look into them tomorrow too.”

Tonks nodded wordlessly, writing down the name and address of one Cecily Abbott, Hannah Abbott Longbottom's niece. Slowly, we stood up, every joint in our bodies popping simultaneously from a day's worth of tension, and walked back inside St. Mungo's to Floo home.