Chapter Text
Muggle London was a chaotic place full of energy, excitement, and entertainment. The metropolis had been divvied up into so many little boroughs and neighborhoods that Nymphadora Tonks had no idea how anyone kept them all straight.
She knew the area around Whitehall, where the Ministry of Magic was located. And she certainly knew her way around Diagon Alley, which wasn’t too far away from the magical government center either. It was getting easier to navigate the downtown areas though, given her training as an Auror, and she knew of some very fun bars, restaurants and thrift stores that she was now taking to visiting.
But today she was walking about, hands bouncing off of the black iron fencing around the local park she was coming to know rather well in Islington Borough.
Almost four months ago, her mother had reconnected with her sisters, which in turn had brought Dora and her father into the Black Family fold and she was finding herself visiting her Aunt Bellatrix more and more often. Bella now lived in the ancestral home of the Black Family; Grimmauld Place.
It was an odd place. The street was filled to the brim with tall, brownstone rowhouses that just seemed to have popped up out of the ground. The sidewalks were narrow, but neatly kept, and there were a few green areas where parks had been allowed to flourish. Everything looked polished and orderly, and certainly not the type of area that one would think the Black Family would reside.
For starters it was predominately a muggle neighborhood.
And if one believed the family motto, the family certainly did not mingle with their neighbors. But as Dora had been learning these past few months, things weren't always as they seemed.
Something she should really know anyways, given her eccentric ways. Nymphadora Lillian Tonks had never been one to blend in or act like a ‘typical girl’ so she was constantly getting looks, comments, and lectures. Especially with the way she dressed.
Today for example, she was rocking her knee-high Doc Martens, laced with neon green laces. Her denim jeans were dark black and ripped to shreds from the thigh downward, looking as if an animal had taken great offense to her clothing and decided to lash out. Her belt too was black but loose so it hung down to her left hip, showing off the little metal spikes worked into the leather.
Her top was blood red, cut low and framed by her leather jacket, her wand pushed snuggly into the tight pockets.
It of course gathered looks, because her hair was also a very bright neon green, and she had put on some darker makeup to really make the colors pop. She’d morphed her hair into a shorter, spikier cut, and was enjoying the way muggles stopped to stare as she enjoyed her leisurely stroll.
She wasn’t breaking any of the Statue of Secrecy as all her clothes were muggle today, and there were plenty of teenagers and young people in London who were taken to dying their hair wild colors these days. She merely looked like a punk rocker chick who took a wrong turn when trying to reach Camden Town.
It actually was one of the best things about growing up with access to both worlds. Wixen seemed utterly stuck between Victorian era fashion and time-honored robes that they had to cast disillusionment and notice-me-not spells if they had to travel through muggle areas.
Or buy a completely separate wardrobe for muggle areas, which many were not eager to do.
Muggles though, had such a wide variety fabrics, styles, and garments, that it was nearly impossible to not look like a muggle in simple pants and tops.
Now, Dora knew she could never, ever be mistaken for a girly girl, obsessed with the current fashions and styles. If anything, she was a raging tomboy, who loved flying, fighting, and flirting like some kind of adrenaline junky just out of rehab. But she absolutely LOVED thrift shopping with her muggle grandmother and finding new pieces of clothing that shocked both wixen and muggles alike.
Nothing like stirring the pot and getting people talking. One could not allow things to become too boring. Sowing chaos was a past-time Dora would never grow tired of. Dora had always marched to the beat of her own drum and she knew exactly where that personality quick had come from now; her Aunt Bellatrix Black.
She loved her parents to the depths of goblin kingdom and back, but she had never quite felt she fit. Even as a little girl, she had been gregarious, sarcastic, energetic, and eager to explore the unknown.
Her mother, Andromeda Tonks ‘nee Black was calm, prim, and typically even-keeled. She liked her routine, never really straying too far from her known haunts and always had her ‘game face’ on. That is unless, you got her really hopping mad. Then she showed her “black” as her father would tease. Andromeda was raised to be a proper lady, as many of the old blood families were wont to do, and despite being outcast by her family when she was barely Dora’s age, she had kept that air of nobility about her.
Her father, Edward Tonks, was as easy-going and relaxed as one could possibly get. He was approachable, kind, and understanding to a fault. Which, given he was a mind healer, was a good personality to have. But he was just so amicable at times, that Dora was certain her mother wanted to shake him because he left any decision making up to the women of the household.
Dora had just never fit their molds. Of course, she inherited her mother’s temper, though she channeled it into her drive to do good and protect those that could not protect themselves. And she had her father’s strong belief that muggleborns were no different than pure bloods and deserved every chance to succeed in the magical world.
Yet, she had always felt like an odd duck among her parents.
School had helped that feeling abate to a degree. Surrounded by other children from all walks of life she’d come to find her stride. Found herself a leader amongst the badger’s den, keeping an eye on the little baby badgers, captaining the quidditch team, and learning to control her metamorphamagus ability with the Deputy Headmistress herself.
Becoming an Auror had been a no-brainer after school and she had jumped into the challenge with both feet despite her mother’s worries. She wanted to be doing things, still be learning and growing, and the only place she could fit would be among the first lines of defense for the magical world.
But just about four months ago, her world had changed.
Her mother received an owl from some unexpected people; her sister Narcissa Malfoy. She spoke of reconciliation, of regrets, and begged to see Andromeda Tonks to make her apologies in person.
Andromeda had never really spoken much about her sisters, Dora’s aunts, but Dora was well aware that she did have aunts out there. Possibly cousins as well. But her mother had walled off the family just as effectively as they had cast her out for marrying Dora’s muggleborn father. She knew of them, but did not know them in any real way.
Yet she had been able to tell that her mother was torn by the request. She missed her sisters; Dora knew it just as her father did. They both had seen the longing in Andromeda’s eyes as she sat with the letter debating her reply.
Dora had to admit her own curiosity was piqued and burned in her like a fiendfyre set loose in a dry field. The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black was one of rumor; myth. One that claimed to be the oldest unbroken family in the British citizenry of wixen, with secrets and power to spare.
Dora wanted to see if one of their secrets was her gift. Her ability to morph her body into an everchanging features with more accuracy than even a Polyjuice Potion. It was so instinctual, so easy, that many times she did not even realize she was doing it as a girl. Her lessons with McGonagall had helped her understand it better, to be more purposeful in her changes.
Yet she wanted more. She wanted to know more about the skill and its limits. Given that she was certain her ability as a metamorphamagus came from her mother’s side of the family, she could not help the questions the reappearance of her aunts brought forward.
She had been happy her mother agreed to a meeting. It had changed so much in their lives and she had gotten to meet both her aunts, not just the younger one.
Her Aunt Narcissa was exactly what Dora had thought she would be with the high society rumors and little gossips that went flying around the Ministry. She was a beautiful lady with long blonde hair. She held herself with a grace that even her mother did not have and she was almost always the one in control of the conversations. She was very polite and friendly, but you could just tell she was not a woman to insult. She would make you pay for it one way or another.
But her Aunt Bellatrix? She was nothing like the stories Mad-Eye Moody told the recruits. Not what he told her when he was trying to impress on her that her blood may be part Black, but that was nothing to be proud of. They were a family of dark wizards who could not let go their dependence on the Dark Arts.
To the world at large Bellatrix Lestrange, now Black, was the big bad wolf. Voldemort was of course the mastermind holding the leash, but Bellatrix was the raving madwoman carrying out his whims. She was monstrous, deadly, and mad because of her love of the dark arts. She had no morals, she had no reservations of killing innocents, and she certainly should not have been let free by the weak Imperius defense many high-ranking Death Eaters used during the trials.
That is not the woman that showed up to Dora’s house for tea. It was not the woman who eagerly drew her mother back into the family home for a Yule celebration. It was not the woman she watched proudly and lovingly presenting her son to his newly returned family members.
Bellatrix Black was more like Dora. Wild, energetic, passionate. Powerful and unafraid to stand up for what she believed in. Unlike most of the ladies of the old social circles, Bella gave no thought to the fact that she was unmarried. She did not care to be polite and sociable. She did not want to hold socials or galas nor gossip like the little old biddies at the Ministry. No, she wanted to do things that mattered and would do whatever she saw fit to achieve her goals.
Once she had started to get to know the woman, Dora found that she absolutely loved her and felt as if finally, she had found where she fit in.
She came up the narrow stone steps to Number 12 Grimmauld Place and the door swung open in welcome. Heddy, the little house elf was bowing as she entered and held out a small hand for her coat.
Unlike a lot of the muggleborn students, or those with a muggleborn parent, Dora was rather okay with house elves. There was a lot of contention about them being slaves, being treated horribly, and more, but Dora knew only half those claims held weight. Some families did treat their house elves terribly. They enacted odd rules to keep the elves submissive and subservient. A perverse form of domination that she could not understand.
But by and far, house elves were seen as part of the houses they served. In her family, Beesy had always been like a grandmother. She’d been a nanny for Dora and played games with her, bathed her, and helped her mother to raise her. As Beesy told it, that is exactly what she had done for Andromeda and the Black Sisters as well.
Elves needed wixen. They fed off their magics. And most of them formed emotional ties to their families, becoming very loyal to each generation that came along.
“Madam is already being in the drawing room, Missy Tonks.” Heddy was taking her jacket from her and hanging it up nearby on a very fine iron coat rack. “What would you be liking for lunch?”
“We go through this every week Heddy. You know I’ll take whatever is on offer.”
“Hmm yes, and Missy Tonks knows Heddy wants an answer.” The elf pinched at her skin showing through the torn jeans and she tapped the elf on the head with a playful frown.
“Bangers and mash?” Dora finally replied after thinking it over and the elf nodded in agreement and popped away to start. Despite thinking of more casual meals and muggle themed dishes to try to trip the elf up, Heddy seemed rather versed and always produced food that should be outlawed.
She’d be fatter than a show hog if she lived with Heddy’s cooking full time. Beesy only ever cooked formal meals at their house.
Heading up the narrow, but very nicely finished, wood stairs, Dora made her way to the second floor on instinct. Her wand slipped into her hand, the Cedar wood buzzing with anticipation and the Dragonheart String core singing in glee.
“A fierce protector.” Ollivander had said as the wand had warmed in her hand and shot out a bevy of controlled fireworks.
The weekly meetups with Aunt Bella had started mostly as chats. Dora had only heard the Ministry’s side of the story and she had silently promised to hear Bella’s side as well before completely denouncing what she had been. Bella had promised her to answer any questions she asked with honesty and it had surprised Dora when she had done just that.
Yes, Bella had led raids and fought against Auror forces. Yes, Bella had killed though not in the numbers the Ministry tried to flaunt. Yes, Bella had no qualms about studying, using, or advocating for their benefits. Yes, Bella had been present during the Longbottom’s torture.
But the shock came when Bella told her what had transpired that night. She hadn’t partaken in the torture. Instead, she had found the Longbottom’s son crawling about in his play room, unaware of the carnage beginning in the main room.
Instead of watching her husband and brother-in-law, or even worse, actually torturing the Longbottoms, Bella had instead warded the room to sound and notice, keeping an eye on the toddler to ensure her companions did not see fit to break on of their lord’s rules. A rule he himself had tried to break.
It was a bombshell Dora had not been ready for. The Dark Lord, rumored to eat babies, torture and kill muggles wholesale, and had been at Godric’s Hollow to kill a child himself, did not allow his followers to torture children. If, as Bella described, the death of a child was unavoidable then a quick painless death was the decree.
It was morbid and morose, but hearing those commands had caused Dora to think far more than her aunt’s admissions of guilt. Bella had given her some information on what their side had started out as, working towards saving their traditions and their freedom to pursue whatever magics had been passed down for generations. Their demands that the muggle problem was more about the fact that muggle weaponry could and was dangerous to them.
Yes, there were families that wished to push a more pure-blood agenda and those were very well defined even still. However, to her great shock Bella advised that the Dark Lord merely wanted any truly muggleborn wixen to be given access to their world sooner. To take the children as soon as they showed their magical gifts.
Dora could not say she agreed with taking magical children from their parents, but she could see their reasoning when Bella told her to start looking deeper into the rate at which names recorded in the Book of Acceptance turned out to be dead ends when representatives from Hogwarts came to explain the child’s gifts to the muggle family.
It was rather a depressing number. One that had started to be tracked more closely after the hearing held by the Wizengamot about Harry Potter’s disappearance.
Not every muggle family was bad, Dora knew that. Her father’s family was rather accepting of them save for one uncle. But her father always laughed that off as Uncle Bernard was a clergyman and they had harder times coming to terms with the concept of magic. But she could understand that some muggles lashed out against things they did not understand. A magic was a pretty big thing to understand, even to wixen.
As soon as she stepped into the drawing room, now changed into its ballroom setting, a red-hot flash of energy went flying past her head. She hit the floor near instantly and rolled towards the nearest wall so that her back flank was covered from any surprises.
This is what her visits were for now; training and sparring with one of the Dark Lord’s most proficient Death Eaters. It was all rather thrilling, but also just a touch scary as her aunt was very good with a wand.
“Constant vigilance!” Moody’s half unhinged voice echoed in her mind and she brought her wand up to the ready position they were taught and started searching the room.
“Tsk tsk Spitfire!” Bella was at the end of the room, sitting in a stiff looking wooden chair, wand twirling in her fingers. “I thought we had broken you of that nasty habit!”
“Sorry Auntie!” She flashed a wicked grin towards her aunt and shrugged her shoulders flippantly. “The weather caused my head to join the clouds. It’s getting too nice out to be indoors.”
“Agreed, so perhaps we finish our training early then?” Bella was standing up and grinning like the mad woman the media and society painted her as. “Perhaps a spot of shopping is in order?”
“I didn’t think you the type.” Dora found herself laughing at the idea and Bella mocked hurt, holding her chest where the tight leather corset leveled off with her long lace gloves on her arms. Her skirt was pleated and moved with her every step and the boots were shining leather, a woman dressed for battle, only much more wixen in look than Dora’s more muggle attire.
“Hmm no, I’m not. But you need a proper holster. The Ministry must be mad if they do not require such gear for their Aurors.” Bella was pointing to her bare arms and the belt at her hip with no holder. It was true, she was in the bad habit of keeping her wand in her pockets, expanded pockets, but pockets all the same.
“So long as you keep your wand on your person, how you store it is your own problem.” The intake Auror had snuffed when a fellow trainee had asked about holster requirements. “The Ministry will not be paying for any embellishments you wish to make to your uniforms.”
Dora shook her head as there would be very little talk after her aunt’s offer. These little dueling sessions were just as much for Bella as they were for Dora. Her aunt got antsy at times, anxious and overthinking things. Or at other times, she would exile herself to her room and sleep for hours on end, grumpy and listless.
“It sounds as if she’s manic depressive.” Her father had noted when her mother had been warning Dora of her aunt’s changing moods. “Difficult to pin down, but there are management techniques.”
Dora had not brought up that conversation at all. Her aunt seemed plenty aware of her own moods to keep herself afloat. Afterall, that was why she had brought up the training sessions as a way to stave off the boredom and depression of the winter season.
Another red-hot spell went flying from the woman’s walnut wand and Dora began to move her own as well, quietly preparing her shielding charms and preparing her volleys.
But Bella was faster, she had been from the very start. Though now forty, her aunt moved and dueled like a woman half her age. As Bella began to swing her wand up above her head, Dora knew a cutting curse was next on the docket and threw up her mixture of Protego and Rebounding Curse.
The spell rebounded as it should, but Bella had moved from her position as soon as the spell had left her wand. The rebound did nothing to help Dora’s outlook.
The woman’s skirt flowed around her as she danced to some unknown song in her head, gray eyes flashing as they started to trade spells back and forth. Burning hexes, tripping jinxes, cutting curses and more as the woman effortlessly moved about the room that should be a dance floor, not a dueling arena.
Dora had very little in the way of dueling training yet. They’d done the formal, stiff and proper, dueling at the start of the training. It was more to see their spell repertoire and power levels. It wasn’t any thing more than both parties standing still on a raise platform and trading spells back and forth. The rest of this year had been law review, procedural training, and boring paperwork for upper level Aurors.
Bella did not duel that way and Dora was still struggling to find a rhythm in moving and casting at the same time.
Moody had taken her under his wing after she had tried to convince the other trainees to start up a dueling practice and had been chewed out by her trainer. He said he admired her gall, her backbone, but he too had been rather slow to start training her in more advanced spell work and defensive techniques.
Again, she lost her train of focus and felt a snap at her mouth. She grunted as the skin smoothed over her lips and she could not utter a word. She glared across room at Bella, smirking like a cheshire cat and shaking her head in that tsking motion.
“We’ve also got to break you of that nasty habit of saying your spells.”
If she could have, Dora would have barked back that there was no way she could hear what she was whispering as they both moved and cast. But she watched in horror as Bella tapped her ears.
“Oh, do you think your elderly aunt cannot hear?” She sing-songed as she tapped her boot heels on the marble flooring. “Amplification spells are more than just for speaking in crowds you know.”
“Well damn!” Dora thought hotly as she steeled herself for the oncoming onslaught. Wordless casting was taught at Hogwarts but not until Year Six. And even then, it was only for simple, easy charms like summoning objects, lighting lanterns, and detecting spell work. “Why doesn’t anyone in the Auror department know that?”
“That’s the problem with those light wixen, little spitfire.” Bella was grinning ferally now and Dora began to focus all she could on a simple shield in front of herself. “They aren’t able to think outside the box. Spells can be adapted. What is harmless can be deadly and what is deadly can be useful. One just needs to get creative.”
A strong gust of wind came out of Bella’s wand, pushing Dora near to the wall until she began using her morphing ability to shrink herself short enough that the wind no longer hit her square in the torso.
“There! That! More of that!” Bella praised loudly, echoing off the walls. Her wand continued moving and began to form a more greenish tint to the spell. “It isn’t a want, dear niece, that causes your magic to come to you wordlessly…it is a need.”
“That doesn’t make sense, she doesn’t need to cast these spells. This is practice, not a real bat…”
“A thin line between practice and realism dearest.” Bella seemed able to anticipate her objections now and she hated that she was so easy to read. Moody had called her out on that a few times now. “A thin line indeed. Intent is for the power of the spell, you intend not to seriously hurt me, but you need to wound me, otherwise we’ll be here all day.”
This is typically where their lessons hit snags. Dora could understand the theory Bella presented to her. Practice did little good if you did not learn to wound someone. You could know spells upon spells and still be useless if you could not aim those spells at another person.
“Sooner or later, you’ll find yourself in a no-win situation Tonks.” Moody’s advice echoed in her mind. “Then you ask yourself will it be you or them. I can’t teach you more unless you stop thinking about my handicaps and actually hit me daft girl.”
Bella was back to casting and Dora took to dodging and bobbing to keep the older woman occupied. At the very least, the metamorphamagus abilities were wandless and wordless. She could work with that as she tried to get over her hang-ups and strike back with more than just tripping hexes and jumbling charms.
Another of the problem was that Dora ended up watching her aunt in awe after the woman truly got warmed up because it was just hypnotizing.
Bella did not speak one word as she cast. Her arms moved fluidly, without restraint, and her wand was but an extension of herself. She looked like a conductor, guiding an orchestra with passion and fervor, not missing a single beat or a single flick of her wrist.
Her eyes never wavered from her target and even when Dora tried to throw in distractions, the woman merely sent a shot in the direction and kept right on advancing on Dora.
Just as she was doing again today.
Dora knew Bella meant what she said, she wanted the girl to ‘wound’ her this time. They’d been dancing around that issue long enough and when Bella said something she meant it. She would not stop things until Dora finally bit back.
“Need. I need to hurt her. Not badly, no not badly. Just enough to rock her back.” Dora was chanting to herself.
And then and idea hit her. Bella played dirty most of the time and so could she. It was a low blow she was about to gamble on, but the only way to halt her aunt long enough to let her fully concentrate on a wordless spell had to be dirty.
She felt her body morphing again, her mind’s eye focusing on her intended look. Her skin shrunk, her body thinned, and it was a touch disorienting as her breasts disappeared into Merlin only knew where. Soon her eyes were hidden in a mass of curls and she was glaring up at Bella, starting her focus on the burning hex she had in mind.
As she had hoped turning herself into a perfect copy of Corvus, Bella’s son, had taken the witch back several steps, her wand faltering just enough for Dora to fully take hold of her magic and beg it to listen to her.
Just as Bella started to snarl a bit in fury, moving forward to demand a change, a ball of fire flew from Dora’s wand and smacked her right in the exposed skin above her bodice. She yelped, throwing a Depulso towards Dora and putting right on her arse, but Dora had done what had been asked of her.
Blisters were raising up on the fine pale skin of her aunt and she was hissing at the mark like a snake. In a few waves of her wand, Dora undid the spell keeping her mouth shut and she reached up to rub her now tingling lips.
This is what she needed. She needed to be pushed. She needed to be tested. Hogwarts had not prepared her and she doubted that the two-year training programme the Ministry provided was going to either. If she trusted those things, it was only a matter of time until she ended up maimed like Moody.
“Very good, little spitfire.” Bella was grinning, though it was pained. “Now we are past hurting one another.”
“You haven’t hurt me yet.” Dora frowned at that statement but then felt a sharp stab in her leg. Looking down, she now had a large gash at just the spot where there was a rip in her jeans. Red blood began seeping out and then trickled down the front of her leg. “Fair enough, I asked for that.”
“Kid gloves do nothing for you.” The woman made one last lazy flick of her wand, closing up the fresh wound easily. It hadn’t been deep, just enough to cause Dora to bleed and to hurt like a bitch.
“How exactly did you know what I was thinking?” Dora checked her leg then stood up as she morphed back into her more preferred persona.
“I was charged with testing new recruits.” Bella muttered, her personal elf Zilly popping up with a burn paste and dittany for the woman. As she slid her wand up into her holster, she looked at her sadly for a second then went about moving herself to apply the burn paste. “Seeing who had potential and who was merely dead weight.”
“That seems a bit harsh.”
“Harsh yes, necessary though. Hogwarts is a very fine school. We all have attended it after all. But given the long list of changes it has gone through; it is little more than a prep school now. You don’t know what a real threat is. You don’t know what magic is truly capable of. You’re green yet and the Ministry would keep you green for fear of creating more monsters.”
“Moody is always harping about vigilance.” Dora scuffed as she brushed off her jeans and muttered a quick cleaning spell towards her pants.
“Vigilance only gets you so far. The truth is unexpected things always happen, spitfire.” Bella finished with the cream and put it back on the small tray Zilly was holding. “You can plan all you like, that doesn’t protect you from those things happening nor does it help you adapt when they do.”
“That…that makes a lot of sense actually.” Dora blushed a bit, looking about the room, morphing back into the more mundane drawing room setting, the Black Family Tapestry becoming more prominent on the walls.
“I’ll have Kreacher set up a few training dummies in the basement. I doubt Andi would like me encouraging you to practice at home. She always hated a mess.” Bella was snickering to herself. “I meant it. Intent is what dictates the power of your spell. I only intended to break the skin, instead of intending to cut off your leg.”
“That’s reassuring.” Dora snickered right back and leaned against an appearing high back chair.
“Need is what helps you cast without speaking. You needed to hit me without use of words and we finally got there.” Bella ignored her little dig but smirked at her over her shoulder in a very pleased way. “I did not think you would ever fight dirty, niece.”
“Well, I have a much better teacher now, don’t I?” Dora set her shoulders defiantly, but could not help the smile breaking out on her face.
Bella cackled happily, tossing the dittany back to Zilly and striding back towards her. Her eyes shone in a brightness she hadn’t yet seen from the woman and she smiled even more at having caused it.
“So… which one am I?” Dora could not help but ask the question now bobbing in her mind.
“Hmm?” Bella merely raised her brow at her in question.
“Potential or dead weight?”
“Oh dear, must I preen your feathers?” Bella snickered and reached over to brush her wild green hair away from her face. “I think it’s rather clear you have potential. We just need to undo all that nasty propaganda they force fed you.”
“And you aren’t force feeding me more?” Dora smirked knowingly back to the woman and Bella rolled her eyes.
“Madam, lunch is being ready.” Zilly informed her softly as they laughed at each other in a mix of pride and understanding. “And a letter has arrived.”
Like a harbinger, a beautiful tawny owl came flitting in through the window Zilly had opened with a snap of her fingers. It flit right to Bella and landed softly on her arm. The woman snatched the letter from its beak and gave it a little tap on the head.
“Thank you, Xerxes.” She mumbled as the owl hooted and flew back to the windowsill to sit in the afternoon sun.
“Draco’s owl?” Dora went over to pet the bird. She’d always had a soft spot for the creatures. They loved treats, pets, and nonsense words in her experience. “Did he get lost?”
“Nonsense. They are both my hatchlings. Draco knows to keep his Aunt Bella updated.” Bella was smiling fondly before she turned the letter over and saw the writing on the front. “But, Corvus also uses the owl and it seems my hatchling is reporting how the Ostara ritual went.”
“He held Ostara at school? Didn’t the professors stop that?” Dora blinked in surprise. When she had attended, all but a short year ago, those types of rituals were forbidden due to concerns about their intent and their uses.
“My sly little snake got permission after he asked around for muggleborns interested in learning about them.”
Bella popped the wax seal from the back and pulled out a parchment. It didn’t look like a normal letter home, it looked rather long for that, and Dora watched as the happy smile on her aunt’s face started to fall a bit as she read. The further down she got, the grimmer her look got. Dora looked at the owl, now resting as she scratched its head, then back up as Bella bit her lip and looked towards the fireplace at the other end of the room.
“Is everything alright Auntie?” Dora asked softly, her nerves flaring to life as she waited for a response.
She hated to think something had happened to Corvus or Draco. That had been the other wicked thing to come from all of this; she had met her cousins. They were seven years younger than her, for sure, but she had loved spending Yule and Christmas with them. It was like being a kid again herself.
Like a switch being flipped, Bella quickly folded up the letter, tucking it into the pocket always enchanted into the chest area of her clothing. She shook her head and smiled somewhat sadly before looking at her.
“It would seem my raven is truly testing his wings.” She laughed in a strained sort of way. “He wrote to ask if I knew of anyway to smuggle a dragon away from Hogwarts.”
“A…” Dora felt her mind halt suddenly at that and blinked a few times at Bella who was still shaking her head as if truly perplexed. “I’m sorry, is this one of those unexpected things you’re trying to teach me about?”
“That is exactly what the letter is about. But it is rather a good example of an unexpected situation.” Bella snorted and flipped her long hair over her shoulder. “Now then, I never had a need for such a service, but I’m sure some in the old crowd would know who to contact.”
“I mean is he trying to help the dragon or sell it?” Dora found herself crossing her arms in front of her chest and frowning. She could not imagine Corvus wanting to smuggle a dragon in the traditional sense. Most smugglers wanted to breed them for dragon fighting rings or kill them for potion ingredients and leathers.
“You’ve met my son?” Bella cocked an annoyed look her way and Dora blushed in embarrassment. “Clearly he wants it taken somewhere safe, which only complicates things.”
Dora straightened at that and began to grin. Bella eyed her cautiously as she began to plan in her head.
“Well, spit it out spitfire. You’ve obviously have something to say on the matter.”
“I think perhaps it won’t be as hard as you think.” Dora giggled a bit and straightened up as if to move towards the first level. “I know this isn’t a test or anything, but I think I know someone.”
“You aren’t running off to Mad-Eye are you?” Bella quipped softly, still eyeing her as Heddy popped up with her jacket.
“I mean, would I like to drag Mad-Eye in front of a dragon at times, just to see how well he can move? Yes.” Dora joked evilly and earned a small grin of amusement in return. “But no, I know someone that knows dragons. Did Corvus know what breed it was?”
“Ridgeback.” Bella replied flatly and furrowed her brows. “Young, hatched about three to four months ago.”
“Oof. Then not a little baby. But, not a grown adult either, that’s good.” Dora chuckled at the thought and pointed towards the door. “I just need to use your floo for a quick call and possibly bring someone through, that okay?”
Bella nodded and moved past her to lead to the first floor sitting room. It was the only one connected to the network and password protected. Dora found the small ceramic bowl with powder and threw it as Bella moved off to an alcove to talk to Heddy.
“The Burrow! Ottery Saint Catchpole!” Dora called out as she stuck her head in the green flames. Floo calling was a bit uncomfortable, only seeing green waves until the house you called answered. But it was quicker than a post owl and she could sense the urgency in her aunt’s body language.
“Hello?” A warm, friendly voice answered finally and she could see into the cluttered chaos that was the Weasley family’s living room.
“Hullo Mrs. Weasley!” Dora greeted the woman with a chirp in her tone. “Charlie left for Romania yet?”
“Oh, hello Nymphadora!!!” Molly Weasley’s voice raised in motherly happiness and she saw the woman’s big, welcoming smile. “How nice it is to hear from you! How is Auror training going? Bill actually just wrote us the other day, asking if you’ve started terrorizing the Minister yet! Silly boy, I know you are taking your training seriously! You want to do well in your new position!”
“Thanks Mrs. Weasley.” Dora blushed a bit and tried to ignore the laugher coming from Bella nearby. “Um, I’d hate to rush and all but I really need to know if Charlie’s still home.”
“Oh yes, yes. Hold on a moment dear. Charlie!!” Molly was turning her head and yelling out for her second child. “He’s just finished up the emergency field healer course the reserve required and should be leaving any day now.”
Dora tried to bite her tongue, knowing Molly Weasley meant very well and loved her children. She took any opportunity to boast and brag about their accomplishments. She hadn’t seen the Weasley’s since King’s Cross at the end of last year. She’d been busy with Auror training, and Charlie Weasley, one of her closest friends, had been applying and learning what was required of his chosen profession as well.
Sadly, her inattention to the large family, meant Molly Weasley had all sorts of family news to pass on to Dora, who she constantly called an honorary Weasley.
“Merlin, she is a talker isn’t she.” Dora heard Bella snorting and ordering for lunch to be brought to the sitting room.
“Oh, and Ronnie finally started Hogwarts, did Charlie tell you?” Molly was boasting about the last of the brothers. “Bit sad though, poor Harry Potter not arriving as he should have…”
“Mum!” A sharp bark from the Weasley side of the connection stopped the woman and there were some muffled back and forth between the man and his mother. Finally, the bronzed skinned, lithe man she knew as Charlie Weasley stepped in front of her field of vision. “Sorry ‘bout that Tonks. You know how Mum gets. What’s up?”
“Heya Charlie. I was hoping to talk to you about something that’s come up? Kinda sensitive though.” She looked at him with a small grin.
They’d been friends all through Hogwarts, so she knew he knew what her smile really meant. It was definitely the “I’ve got an issue that may or may not require breaking some laws and would really like your input” look.
“When is it not?” Charlie was laughing, a deep happy sound that put her at ease. Charlie Weasley was always up for an adventure, that much she knew. “I can meet you somewhere. I doubt Mum would like me putting a silencing charm up. No privacy Tonks, I swear. Bill told me she would be nosier than ever, but Merlin I cannot wait to get moving.”
“Charlie Weasley! I am your mother and I am merely making sure you have thought of everything!” Molly was screeching a bit in the background and Dora laughed. One never outgrew their mother, she knew that, but she was really thankful her mother was more or less letting her test herself and make her own mistakes.
Not that Andromeda hadn’t sat Dora down every few months to ensure she was still liking the programme and hadn’t had any second thoughts.
“Actually, I was hoping you could step through?” Tonks looked to Bella quickly, ensuring it was still okay. The woman waved her hand at her and sat herself at the table appearing with the lunch Heddy had prepared. “It involves the family.”
“Is everything alright?” Charlie quickly went to serious mode and frowned at her before nodding his head and moving to straight up so he could step through the fireplaces that were now connected.
“Fine, fine, just a favor really. Password is Atropa, by the way.”
“Atropa?” She heard Charlie’s questioning of the password. Her home never had one. Her mother had merely keyed her friends to the wards on the house and they could all come and go as they pleased.
In a flash of green, Charlie came stepping through, brushing off his light knitted sweater and checking his shoes for any soot or mess. But as he looked up, he stopped moving and just gaped at the ornate, finely decorated room he now found himself in.
“Where?” Charlie started to question as Dora stood herself and put herself in front of him. “This isn’t your house, Dora. What’s going on?”
“Welcome to Grimmauld Place.” Dora grinned lopsidedly at her friend, put her hand on his upper arm and gently turned him towards Bella and the lunch spread. “Just…don’t freak out, okay? This is my Aunt Bella’s house. Her and my mum have been reconnecting as it were and I’ve been spending some time with her.”
“Sweet Merlin, you’re Bellatrix Lestrange.” Charlie’s skin went absolutely white and he just stared at Bella, terror written all over him.
“Black now actually.” Bella shrugged and skewered a piece of sausage from her plate and looked it over with a curious tilt to her head. “And you are?”
“This is my friend Charlie Weasley, Aunt Bella.” Dora took a try at the polite, stuffy greetings but failed horribly, smiling too much at Charlie’s discomfort.
She shouldn’t be laughing at him really. She had much the same reaction to her aunt at first.
“Ah. Lucretia’s great nephew or somewhere in that degree I’m guessing.” Bella was pointing out and Dora couldn’t help but giggle at the thought that somehow, someway, she and Charlie were actually related.
The rumor was the Blacks had cast their seed rather wide, so it shouldn’t be that shocking. But she just could not grapple with how many times removed they were, and to what branch of the family that had borne the connection.
“You know Aunt Lucretia?” Charlie choked on his own tongue but the message got across.
“She was born Lucretia Black, so yes, I do know her. Bit of a self-righteous twit at times, but she is family I suppose.” Bella again shrugged but this time looked over Charlie. “Married Ignatius Prewett.”
“Merlin and Morgana, we’re related to the Blacks.” Charlie was swallowing with some difficulty and glancing at Dora for some help. “I…”
“I’m surprised you didn’t know that.” Bella actually did looked surprise at that admission.
“Well, Mum and Aunt Lucretia don’t get along all that great.” Charlie started rubbing at his neck nervously. “And well, the Prewetts were a little upset by Uncle Iggy marrying her. Never understood why. Granted, maybe I do now…”
“Ah yes, the fear of the Black madness was pretty strong back in those days.” Bella pointed her fork towards two place settings now appearing on the table. “Please sit. I don’t bite.”
“Not normally.” Dora snickered and pushed Charlie towards the table. He stumbled a bit, looking at her now with wild-eyed betrayal. But she smiled and egged him on until he was in a seat and sat beside him. “Relax Charlie. You’re already heads above my response when I first met her. I put my wand in her face.”
“And you’re alive?!” Charlie breathed then looked to Bella fearfully, blush spreading to his ears, making them fade into his similarly colored long locks. “I’m… I’m sorry. I…”
“She is my niece.” Bella put on a feral grin. “But keep talking and I may have to question her judgment.”
“Don’t listen to her Charlie.” Dora reached for a goblet of juice as a serving appeared on both their plates. “She’s really quite harmless. Mum and Dad have been reconnecting with her sisters. The family is welcoming us back in.”
“That, really doesn’t explain what…”
“Aunt Bella has a son at Hogwarts. His name is Corvus and he wrote her a letter. Apparently, he is trying to find a way to get a dragon out of Hogwarts.”
“He’s made friends with the groundskeeper, Harrid or Horrid, or….” Bella was enjoying torturing Charlie, as she had at first with Dora.
“Hagrid?” Charlie sat up as Heddy finally had enough of his stalling and poured him a drink as well. “He’s friends with Hagrid?”
“Yes, he helped my hatchling heal his pet earlier in the year and he visits the man from time to time.” Bella frowned slightly at the interruption but then flipped it away and went back to her meal. “The oaf apparently found himself with a dragon egg and thought he could hatch it and raise it.”
“That tracks.” Charlie started losing some of the stiffness in his posture, blinking down at the offering and looking at Dora again in shock. “I swear in fifth year he found a fire salamander near the lake and tried to keep it in his hut.”
“Oh, Merlin I remember that! It started a fire in the forbidden forest trying to get away!” Dora chortled at the memory.
They too had been friendly with the gregarious groundskeeper. It made her feel somewhat better that Corvus hadn’t just run across some dragon on the grounds of Hogwarts. Hagrid made far more sense and Hagrid wouldn’t let her cousins get hurt. He’d take the brunt of whatever the dragon could do if things got too dangerous.
“I’m surprised he wrote to you instead of informing his Head of House.” Charlie took up a fork finally and picked up a sausage, sniffing it before taking a bite. He looked at Dora again, eyes now blissful and she assumed he approved of Heddy’s cooking. “Or that the Ministry hasn’t been informed.”
“Let’s just say his Head of House would take the opportunity to get some dragon fangs, dragon liver, and dragon scales for his personal stocks.” Dora thought of Severus Snape, all but drooling over the dragon and the materials he could use for so many powerful, rare potions. “Corvus is smart enough to know not to do that.”
“Snape?” Charlie questioned in a squeak then shook his head. “But he wants to smuggle it? Isn’t that just as good as giving it to Snape?”
“He wants to get it to a reserve.” Bella pointed out. “He and my nephew want the dragon hatchling to be kept safe and whole, so I find myself trying to find such a place to take it and someone to get it there. My darling, scheming niece said she knew someone and here you are. Can you tell me why since she’s being far to scheming at the moment?”
“Oh.” Charlie said, his mouth forming a perfect circle for several seconds before he finally let his gaze meet Bella’s. “Uh, well, I’ve been hired on as a dragon tamer at the Romanian Reserve for Dragon Species.”
“Charlie’s been absolutely mad about dragons since I first met him.” Dora nudged him with her elbow and he gave her an embarrassed frown. “And since he’s my best mate, I knew he’d be headed to Romania soon and perhaps he could take the poor thing with him.”
“Merlin, Dora, I’m not even officially a tamer yet! I mean sure, I passed the exam they gave me in the interview with flying colors but…”
“Exactly. And they used adult dragons, didn’t they? So how hard could a little baby be.”
“What breed?” Charlie was serious again, scooping up some peas and mashed potatoes. “That baby might be ten feet tall by now.”
“A Norwegian Ridgeback, three-to-four months old.” Dora relayed the information she already had. “I’ll even get you an international portkey straight to Romania, instead of taking that doomed boat trip.”
“You will?”
She’d known the Weasleys since she was eleven-years-old and loved them to death. But lately they hadn’t been very financially secure. Ending with seven children, it was to be expected that expenses had gone up with each new child in the family.
Charlie’s new employer benefits did not kick in until they survived a year at the reserve. So, he had to arrange his own transportation to the country he’d be working in. All he had saved up only afforded him a boat ride and several side-along apparitions with travel agents to get to Romania with.
International portkeys were expensive, but Rodger Pryson from the Department of Transportation owed her one after she accidentally found him snogging some higher up. Dora had been hoping to use the favor for a nice little vacation after her graduation from the Auror Training Programme, but family did come first.
Her mother always said she was a failed Slytherin. Too much badger loyalty and stubbornness to ever make it far with her schemes.
“If you can help my son with this, then I will get us to Hogsmeade, and provide whatever you feel you need to transport the dragon.” Bella was watching them both now, more her than Charlie now. “How quickly do you think something can be arranged?”
Charlie was silent for several minutes, staring at the woman with more curiosity now than fear. The fear was still there of course, but it had started to tame into something more manageable. He let the fork settle on the napkin by his plate and looked at his hands for a while before looking back up.
“Will you be requiring any oaths?” He asked quietly but seriously.
“I don’t see a reason for them. Do you require some oath?” Bella shrugged and sat back in her seat, slouching just a touch and eyeing the red-head up and down.
“No ma’am. I was merely curious. My brother always says be sure of what you’re signing up for after all.” Charlie smirked a bit, a bit of advice Bill Weasley had given Dora as well. “He works for Gringotts, guess he’s learned to be paranoid.”
“Yes, goblins are very meticulous creatures.” Bella murmured back and lifted her brow at him. “I require no oath and require no assurances in return. I would hope, given you know my niece, that you aren’t one to shy away from difficult situations and know how to give a convincing story.”
“Wow, she really has you pegged Tonks.” Charlie was snickering and smiling softly her way.
“Please, which of us was trying to bypass Filch’s contraband closet year three?” Dora took a drink from her cup and smiled.
“You wanted your crackle pops back and Bill said he lost a really old set of picks he had found in our attic.” Charlie was huffing back.
“Children. Focus?” Bella was smirking despite her drawing them back into the matter at hand.
“I’m of age you know.” Dora smirked back.
“Sorry ma’am.” Charlie instantly apologized.
“Stars above, I may require an oath after all. No more calling me ma’am.” Bella was standing as Heddy began to clear the plate from her spot. “Bellatrix will be acceptable. I may be owing you a favor after this so we may as well be on a first name basis.”
“Um…really that’s not necessary.” Charlie blushed again, ducking his gaze. “Tonks was right, I am rather taken with dragons. Been studying them on my own my whole life. Misunderstood creatures, powerful though and not to be messed with. Let me write my boss, tell him I’ve found an abandoned hatchling. He’ll trust me to know it’s been abandoned and get me what I need.”
“How long you thinking Charlie?” Dora felt the need to ask again since Bella had asked that first.
“Week, maybe two?”
“That sounds doable.” Bella nodded. “I will write my hatchling and let him know we can save his little foundling.”
With that Bella left to do as she stated and probably relax the rest of the day; her teasing offer of a shopping trip now forgotten. Dora polished off her drink and pointed to Charlie’s half eaten lunch, laughing about how awkward it had to have been for him to be pulled into such a thing in the ancestral home of the Black Family.
“Dora, I ought to hex you three ways from Sunday.” Charlie picked back up his fork and started in with a bit more ease. “Merlin and Morgana, what the hell have you been up to since we graduated?”
“Oh, Charlie boy.” Dora patted his arm fondly and grinned mischievously as she could. “It’s not so much what I’ve been up to, it’s what I’m aiming to do.”
“I’m afraid to even ask?” Charlie eyed her suspiciously for a minute before shaking his head and taking a drink. “What are you up to Jack Rabbit? Out to cause some mayhem?”
“Sweet little Ginger Snap.” Dora stood up and pat his head as if he was a small child. He rolled his eyes at her and she laughed happily. “When am I not?”