Jan-96

Chapter 9

January 1996

* * *

"You're an Auror?" said Harry, impressed...

"Yeah," said Tonks, looking proud. – Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Chapter 3

* * *

Charlie walked into a poorly lit Muggle dance club in Berlin. The flashing lights brought to mind a magical duel, setting his already frayed nerves further on edge. The dissonant music was grating, the loud, unnatural buzzes and chirps hurting his ears along with a thumping bass beat, the pulse of which he could feel in his lungs. A press of people bounced and gyrated around him.

He hated it.

He never would've been caught dead in a place like this on his own, but it's where his contact had wanted to meet – Merlin only knew why. Gritting his teeth, he shouldered his way through the crowd to the bar and ordered two beers. Then he slunk into a far corner that offered a decent view of the rest of the place, took a seat on a couch of dubious cleanliness, and set the bottles of beer on a rickety little table before him.

After scanning the crowd for a minute or so, he recognized her the instant she came into view – he'd've known that pink hair anywhere. He gave her a little wave, and she responded with a single nod of acknowledgement.

Nymphadora Tonks strode confidently across the room, brimming with a maturity and self-possession he was envious of. She was dressed to fit in with the club crowd, wearing a black Muggle-style trench coat that was cut to fall at the top of her thighs and belted at her trim waist, with tight-fitting black trousers and long, high-heeled black boots. He, on the other hand, wore his least-patched brown work trousers and a comparatively garishly colored crimson jumper his mother had knitted him last Christmas.

As she strutted toward Charlie, she smiled broadly at him in a way he found a little unnerving. Then, when she was right in front of him, she bent at the waist, slid her hand into his hair, and said softly through her smile, "Play along and put your hands on my hips."

And then she kissed him. Only it wasn't just a kiss. It was practically a snog – on the lips with tongue and everything.

Startled, he did as he was told. It felt so very wrong, though – like a wooden dummy – to be kissing... Tonks!? They were cousins – albeit distant ones – as well as old school chums. Not to mention she was a... well, she wasn't Sasha.

It only lasted a few moments before she broke it off. Then she semi-gracefully fell across his lap to seat herself on the sofa beside him, leaving her legs draped across his thighs. In the process, she bumped the table, sloshing some beer.

"Ah, shit, Charlie," she groaned. "Sorry about the mess!"

Here was the first little flash of his clumsy old schoolmate he'd known, and Charlie nearly choked. After coming on so strong, out of the goddamned blue, spilling a few drops of beer is what she's worried about? "No matter," he stammered.

But before he had a chance to say anything further, much less demand an explanation, she pushed in for another go. Hand on his cheek, she turned his face to hers and kissed him again. What the bloody hell?

She held his head close even after she released his lips. Murmuring into his ear, she said, "Got your wand ready, Charlie? I'm being followed. Don't look, but it's the specky prat in the green jumper by the bar."

"Who is he?" Charlie asked, risking a glance despite her warning. Sure enough, a fellow fitting her description was boldly staring at them.

"All of us Aurors suspected of sympathizing with Dumbledore've got tails now," she said, caressing his cheek lovingly with her thumb. "Dunno if they're working for Fudge or You-Know-Who. But they're complete bollocks at Stealth, thank Merlin for small favors. Worse than me, if you can believe it."

"How did he track you here?" Charlie pressed, following her lead and talking directly into her ear. He began awkwardly rubbing her back like he'd seen other blokes do with girls at pubs. "In Berlin?"

"I had to take an official Portkey to get here – proper permits and all. I'm even burning a personal day for this little holiday," she grumbled. "Kingsley wants it to look like I'm doing this on my own."

"Should we leave?" he said.

"Nah, this place is likely as safe as any for the moment," she replied, nuzzling his neck. "He's not stupid enough to make a move with all these Muggles as witness. Anyway, Kingsley and I think they've been told to observe, not interfere. As far as Specky knows, I'm nothing but a horny witch meeting up with an old school chum for a quick shag."

Charlie coughed a little at the lurid picture she'd painted. Her hand slid down his neck to rest on his chest, and she wiggled a little in his lap. "Do they know about the Order being back on alert?" he asked worriedly.

"Fudge or You-Know-Who?" she asked, running the tip of her nose along his jaw.

"Either," he said.

"Dunno," she replied. Then she took his head in both hands and stared penetratingly into his eyes. Rubbing her nose tenderly against his, she said. "You're dad's gonna be all right."

Charlie pressed his forehead against hers, closing his eyes and sighing, "Thank you!" in relief. He'd been worried sick ever since he'd gotten the word from Bill about the attack on his father at the Department of Mysteries.

"I saw him myself," Tonks assured him, stroking his hair again. "He's well on the mend, cheerful as always."

Charlie was inspired to kiss his old friend for delivering such happy news and did so, finally with some enthusiasm. He gave her a proper hug for good measure, too, and she laughed at his exuberance.

"How goes your mission?" she chuckled when he released her.

Charlie gave a little sigh of frustration, and she nestled her head against his shoulder, stroking his bicep. Speaking into her pink hair, he said, "It hasn't been easy to find anyone willing to commit to the cause. Most of them see it as not their problem – it's too far removed from their everyday affairs. The ones who've agreed to support us are the same ones that go looking for a fight on their days off."

Tonks' arms wound around his chest, and she gave him a little squeeze. Looking up at him once more, she said, "We'll take what we can get. Beggars can't be choosers, I suppose."

"Sorry." Charlie moaned a little, feeling like a failure. "I'm crap at this business."

She kissed him once more, only lightly this time, then, pretending to nibble at his ear, said, "Don't be so hard on yourself, mate. Dumbledore's got people all over the Continent, and none of them are reporting much different from you. Just keep at it, yeah?"

"Really?" Charlie asked, pulling back to look her in the eye, desperately hoping she was wrong. He'd been counting on the others being more successful.

Her smile was genuinely friendly this time, less like a leer. "All we can do is our best, right?" They both glanced over at her tail, noting he was either bored or distracted, scanning the crowd. Charlie saw Tonks palm her wand and, using the little table as a shield, cast a quick spell in the git's direction. A few moments later, the git began quickly making his way toward the loo.

Tonks chuckled. "That's our cue. Let's get out of here."

"Where to?" Charlie asked.

"Your room, of course," she scolded him with a roll of her eyes. Apparently familiar with the layout of the club, she pulled him along behind her and they quickly exited a rear door into a dark, deserted alleyway.

Less than thrilled to be called upon to Apparate both her and himself to someplace he had only the barest familiarity with, he advised her, "Hold on, then," and spun them on the spot. Moments later, he was relieved that they arrived in their proper two pieces in his hotel room, and he managed to only bark his shin against the small dresser.

Tonks giggled lightly. "You Apparate like I walk," she teased him. Then she took a moment to survey his accommodations. "Erm... cozy," she offered as a reluctant compliment, the sort of thing you say when you can't think of anything nice.

He flopped into the small chair beside the bed and gestured for her to make herself comfortable. What the place lacked in amenities, he found it made up for in quiet and affordability. "Some of us don't have a posh Ministry per diem to throw about," he teased back.

Tonks expressed her low opinion of said per diem with a snort. She perched lightly on the bed, then nudged his knee with her foot. "You're looking well, mate. Very fit, in fact. Dragon-keeping suits you, I reckon."

Charlie gave her a fond smile – finally, he began to see some of the fun-loving, playful girl he'd known at school. "And you look skinny. I reckon I could whip you into shape in a few months on the rez, though. Look me up when you get tired of all the cloak and dagger rubbish, and I'll put you to work barreling dragon shit."

"Skinny!?" she protested, nudging his knee harder. "I could take you in a heartbeat, Dragon Boy."

Charlie snorted dismissively. He had no doubt he could best her in seconds if it came to a strictly physical altercation. However, she'd always had a quick wand, even at school, and Tonks was an Auror now...

"Chicken," she dared him.

"I don't make a habit of teaching lessons to skinny bints, but I suppose I can make an exception in your case," he boasted.

"Go on, then," she baited him. "I'll even spot you the first spell."

As entertaining as the thought was, he didn't really fancy having to explain all the room damage that would likely result from even a playful wand duel between friends. "Some other time, perhaps," he yawned.

"If you insist." Tonks sat bouncily on the bed, making a few springs squeak. "Oh, really nice effect, Charlie!" she chuckled wickedly. "Shall I sell it for your neighbors' benefit? Ooh, I'd better, just in case Specky Git has tracked me here!"

Before Charlie had a chance to ask what she was on about, Tonks leaped to her feet and began jumping on the bed, eliciting louder squeaks. The headboard began thumping rhythmically against the wall. Her eyes twinkled evilly.

"Oh, Charlie!" she moaned loudly, grinning directly at him.

"Hush, Tonks," he hissed. The prospect of facing his fellow lodgers the next morning after this wasn't appealing.

"Oh, Charlie!" she keened, jumping a little faster. She giggled almost silently.

He feared for the bed's functionality after this onslaught. "Take it easy, will you?" he warned her, a little louder now to be heard over the noise. "Don't break it – I don't fancy sleeping on the floor tonight."

But she ignored him completely, instead throwing her head back. "OH, CHARLIE! YES! YES! GOD, YES!" she bellowed at the ceiling, punctuating her words with several whimpering squeals.

Charlie folded his arms across his chest and smirked, unimpressed. "Are you quite finished now?"

Tonks heaved a large sigh as she sat back down on the bed. "Very satisfied, love," she said in a voice he still found overloud.

After a few quiet, somewhat awkward moments of not knowing what to say after such a performance, Charlie decided to broach the subject gnawing at him lately. "How are things really? Back home, I mean?"

Tonks wore a bitter smirk, understanding what he meant. "Fudge has been waging a smear campaign against Harry and Dumbledore, trying to discredit their warnings about You-Know-Who being back. The Prophet's full of snarky little comments now about how deluded and self-important the two of them are, trying to make them out as paranoid laughingstocks. Meanwhile, he really thinks Dumbledore's plotting some Ministry takeover or some such rubbish."

"How could anyone think that?" Charlie spluttered.

Tonks shrugged. "He's completely mad, Fudge is, fearing more for his own position rather than the public good. I suppose that's what power does to you."

"Disgusting," Charlie grumbled.

"Agreed," Tonks replied.

"What about the... the attack on Dad? What was that all about?" Charlie asked.

"There've been several break-in attempts at the Department of Mysteries since last summer," she explained. "We think You-Know-Who wants something inside."

"What is it?" Charlie interrupted her.

"Dunno," she said patiently. "Could be anything, couldn't it? Anyway, we've all been taking shifts guarding the entrance. Your dad was there the night You-Know-Who sent that nasty snake of his." She shrugged again. "You know the rest, don't you?"

Charlie's brow furrowed thoughtfully. "Bill said Harry saved him, but I still don't understand how. I mean, Harry was at Hogwarts, right?"

Tonks looked distinctly uncomfortable. "None of us understands it, mate," she whispered guiltily. "The only story I could squeeze out of your little brother was that Harry 'saw' the attack in a dream."

"You mean, he had a premonition?" Charlie attempted to clarify.

"No. Not prior to the attack. At the same time..."

Charlie swallowed, his confusion eclipsed by the bodily disconcertment he felt, echoed in Tonks' own spooked expression. "That's..." Then he faltered, unable to find the right word to express how perturbed he felt.

"Creepy," she offered. "I know. Rumor has it there's a... connection... of some sort. Between them."

Charlie didn't feel like contemplating such an unnerving concept. "Speaking of the nasty snake..." He fished through his rucksack for the memory vial he'd brought with him, then handed it to her.

"What's this?" she asked, examining the vial.

"Years ago now, Dumbledore wanted me to search for stories about a very large snake in Albania. I never found a single one. What I did find were stories of a few crazed bears, which led us to think that might have been how You-Know-Who survived for the years after Harry seemed to have destroyed him: by possessing these animals. At the time, this particular tale didn't seem to fit what I was looking for, so I didn't bother with it..."

"But now?" Tonks prompted.

"Now I think it might be important," he agreed. "Especially since we know You-Know-Who wants something Mysterious. I don't know how, exactly, but..."

"What's it about?"

"A while ago, I met an old Muggle woman who told me a local legend about a beautiful woman who came from far away to live in the woods there. The story goes that she was very wise but also very sad. She would disappear whenever anyone tried to approach her little hut and never came into town. People said she was a witch."

Tonks quirked a mildly curious eyebrow.

Charlie took it as his cue to continue. "One day, a noble warrior came looking for a woman matching her description. He claimed to be sent by the woman's great and kind mother, who was also very wise, and that she'd stolen a magical crown from her. His quest was to find the magical crown and reunite the daughter with her dying mother, who wished to reconcile.

"The townspeople led the nobleman to the witch's hut, where they fought with magic. The woman refused to hand over the magical crown, nor would she return to her mother, who was on her deathbed. Bolts of lightening flashed upon their command; he must've been a wizard, too. In a rage, the nobleman let fly a cursed dagger that pierced the witch's breast and killed her. Then he wept bitterly over the slain woman's body, for he had failed in his mission for the woman's mother – he had neither the daughter nor the magical crown to bring her – and he fell upon his own dagger rather than face the shame of returning empty-handed. The Muggles buried the two beside the witch's hut, burned the hut to the ground, and laid a stone above the graves that remains there to this day. It's marked with a strange symbol carved into the stone – I don't know what it represents."

"I still don't get it," Tonks said. "Muggles tell loads of stories about witches and wizards, most of them complete bollocks."

"I know, but this one's different. See, the old woman who told me this story claimed her father had told it to another Englishman almost forty years ago. That bloke asked her father to lead him to the burial stone in question. He did – and no one ever saw or heard from either of them again. She claims the Englishman murdered her father after he showed him the gravestone."

"Okay, that's weird, but I still don't–"

"What if the Englishman was You-Know-Who before he became You-Know-Who?" Charlie hissed with excitement. "The timing would fit, see? Maybe that's the Albanian connection for him! Why he came here after the killing curse backfired – he was already familiar with the woods. What if he came here the first time looking for that magical crown?"

"You think it really exists?" Tonks exclaimed. "Does he have it? What does this crown supposedly do?"

"Dunno. But even if it doesn't exist, even if he never found it, it's got to be a clue. If You-Know-Who went looking for this magical object, like he's doing again now, we've got to figure out why. If Dumbledore knows what they are, what they do, then it might give us information we can use to defeat him."

Tonks pondered this for several moments. Then, with a patient smile, said in a gentle voice, "Charlie, mate, I think you're reaching. These are some pretty flimsy coincidences."

"Maybe so," he agreed, the wind taken out of his sails a bit. "But just in case, I want Dumbledore to know."

Author's note: Yeah, so Charlie's got wind of a bit of the Grey Lady's story and passed it on to Dumbledore well ahead of DH. I just couldn't resist exploiting Voldemort's Albanian connection a little more. It seemed to me that Dumbledore had a pretty good idea of what Voldemort was using for Horcrux material by the time he let Harry in on the secret, so I let Charlie be the one who potentially inspired him (even if nobody specifically suspected Horcruxes yet at this point).