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Author: Author by Night Story: Spectators Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-OotP Status: Completed Reviews: 2 Words: 21,201
Note: These segments take place after Crouch shows up, and disappears, at Hogwarts. Sirius wrote to Dora — Tonks, he reminded himself — and Remus telling them only to meet him at the cave at once. The letter from Harry about Crouch’s disappearance, coupled with Andromeda’s account of her conversation with Narcissa, had confirmed his worst fears. “Wotcher,” Tonks said as she got off her broom and hugged Sirius. But he could tell from her expression that she was concerned. “We brought you food,” Remus said, and Sirius took it gratefully. “Thanks… don’t have much of an appetite, though.” Sirius showed them the letter from Harry; they both looked concerned. “We have to stop it,” Tonks said at once. “How?” Remus asked. He ran his fingers through his hair. “Clearly Fudge doesn’t see the signs…” “Alice and Frank Longbottom—” “—are at St. Mungo’s. You know that.” “Mum told me they were part of something before there even was a war.” “Which didn’t do much good,” Sirius pointed out. “The war had already started, it was more that we didn’t know…” “Maybe they know something that can help us. What if that’s why they were attacked by Bellatrix Lestrange?” Sirius and Remus exchanged a look. “Dora,” Remus began, “even if that’s true… they can’t tell you. They’re insane.” “Wasn’t Alice Longbottom your godmother?” Sirius asked. Tonks nodded, and Sirius was suddenly grateful that — although he wasn’t far from madness himself — he, at least, had been able to escape and help Harry the best he could. He remembered Alice and Frank; in their normal state, they would have been the first to help her. It was a little different, Tonks had parents, but even if James and Lily were alive — which Sirius wished more than anyone would ever understand — he would want to help Harry. “They’re why I became an Auror,” Tonks was saying softly. Remus was looking at her sadly, and Tonks forced a laugh. “Don’t look so sombre, I’m hardly the only person who knew — knows them. They were your friends, after all, weren’t they? But that’s why we ought to do something. “She’s right,” Remus agreed. “We can talk to Alastor—” “—you talk to him. I’m going to talk to Alice and Frank.” Sirius’s heart sank. “Nymphadora… listen to me. This isn’t some mystery novel, where the insane hermit suddenly reveals he knows who killed the victim. Real insanity is—” But Tonks had already disappeared. “She’s like us,” Sirius told Remus. Remus nodded. “Quite. It’s worrisome.” “On the other hand, we’re still standing—” “—just barely, Padfoot. Just barely.” Remus knocked on Alastor’s door with some amount of trepidation. He hadn’t seen the man in years, and wasn’t quite sure what to expect. He was also concerned about any of his former students recognizing him. “Alastor,” Remus said when the door opened. Alastor paused. “Do I know you?” Remus hadn’t expected that. “Remus Lupin…” “Oh. You were the Defence professor.” “You also know a friend of mine,” Remus said, hoping he’d at least remember Tonks. “Nymphadora Tonks.” “Yes, I know her. We spoke recently, actually. Very nice girl. What can I do for you?” “I just wanted to know if there’ve been any developments on the search for Crouch…” “No,” Alastor said quickly. “There have not. I wasn’t aware that you knew. I was under the impression it was being kept under wraps, actually.” “Of course it is, but —” “Potter wrote, did he?” “Yes,” Remus lied. “I have to ask… what did you teach him, last year? It would be very useful.” Remus wasn’t comfortable sharing Harry’s struggle with Dementors, even with Alastor. “I sent you what they learned.” “Did he ever discuss the Dark Arts with you?” “He was thirteen at the time, Alastor. The darkest thing we ever discussed was—” Remus winced, “—the Dementor’s Kiss. Why would he—” “—he’s the only person to have survived a death curse.” “I’m not here to talk about Harry, although he is a concern,” Remus continued. “Have you heard anything about… trouble arising?” “There’s always trouble, Lupin,” Alastor grumbled. “Always darkness in the shadows, waiting to strike when we least—” “I mean something specific.” A dark look crossed Alastor’s face. “Oh, there’s something, all right,” Alastor said. “If I were you, I’d look at Snape. Aren’t you two old friends?” “I wouldn’t use the word ‘friends’, but yes, we are acquainted. We were also colleagues for a year.” “He’s a fishy fellow, isn’t he? Now, our Albus won’t hear it, bless the man, he sees the best in everyone.” “Trusting him’s usually been the best route. You know that.” “I’m not so certain anymore, Lupin. But maybe you should pay him a visit, instead of bothering me.” “I actually needed to ask—” “—I needed to do something an hour ago, and my time’s almost up. So I am afraid I have to bid you adieu.” Before Remus realized it was happening, Alastor had pushed him out of his office. Well, that was productive. Tonks hadn’t seen Alice and Frank since she was about nine years old. Andromeda hadn’t shied away from Dora seeing; at least not until she had nightmares for a week and started talking about being an Auror to finish their work. One had stopped, another persisted. Alice was mumbling as usual; Frank looked nervous, but did not speak. “Alice,” Tonks said. “Frank. It’s me.” Tonks attempted small talk with them for some time; it didn’t amount to much. Alice hummed and Frank just said something unintelligible. Finally, Tonks managed to help Alice sit next to Frank. “I need to ask you two something,” she said. “Do you two know why you are here?” “I’m here,” Frank said in a distant voice. “I need to know if you remember what happened the day before you came here.” Alice giggled at something or someone she apparently thought was there. “In February of 1982, the war with You-Know-Who was over, but I think you were still collecting information,” Tonks told them. “Is that correct?” “Hmm…” Alice mumbled. “Frank?” Tonks looked at Frank, trying not to remember him as a much younger man who used to try finding Galleons behind her ears, because otherwise she might cry. “Frank… you remember the war.” After a moment, Frank spoke: “Darkness. Bad. Very bad. Gideon and Fabian Prewett… dead. Men come home, houses filled with bodies, try Killing Curse on themselves but you have to mean it.” Tonks shuddered. “Do you remember fighting?” Frank shook his head, but after a minute, he nodded slowly. “Fought hard.” “Do you remember what you did after the war ended?” “Never… ended…” “It did, remember? This little boy,” Tonks showed him an old Daily Prophet clipping, “stopped him. You knew his parents, James and Lily. The war ended, but… you were attacked.” “Attacked…” “Yes. I need to know if you remember any details behind the attack. I think you might have known something about—” Frank suddenly jumped up from his seat and pushed Tonks against the wall; his hand curled around her neck, and anger flashed through his eyes. “Frank, no!” Tonks choked, struggling to breathe. Alice was screaming. She managed to push Frank away just in time for two Healers to rush in and sit him back on his bed. “You’d better go,” one of the Healers said. “I don’t know what happened, he doesn’t usually get this agitated.” “It’s my fault,” Tonks said miserably. “He was right. This isn’t a mystery novel. This is real life.” It was time for tea, chocolate, and a good Agatha Christie novel. In those, the bad guys were always brought to justice in the end.
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