Chapter Twelve.
Harry scowled as he stirred his cauldron. Potions was, as usual, going horribly. And Hermione, of all people, had just made it worse.
He had come to the dungeons buoyed by Neville’s example, determined to be polite to Snape. Harry knew perfectly well he would never like his Potions teacher, but had come to the conclusion that perhaps it was possible to find some common ground between them. Just enough to be able to work together “ enough so his Occlumency lessons would stop being such nightmares. Harry knew that his own lacklustre performance at Occlumency hadn’t endeared him to the Potions Master. Snape would never like him, it was true, but he might perhaps be brought to respect him.
Harry couldn’t quite bring himself to believe that he was going to try civility with Snape for no greater reason than improving their complicated relationship, but every time he doubted his decision (and the first ten minutes of class gave him plenty of the usual reasons to do so) he saw Neville out of the corner of his eye, looking pale and nervous in a corner with Susan Bones. Neville was terrified of Snape, but had managed to steel himself to take Potions class anyway. Harry, on the other hand, was not at all afraid of the Potions Master, but thought that if Neville was prepared to face his own challenge, then it would be a bit cowardly of Harry to refuse to do the same.
The badly hidden shock on Snape’s face at Harry’s careful politeness had almost made the effort worth it on its own. Harry smirked inwardly, but was careful to show nothing on his face. He loathed Snape with a passion, but indulging in that emotion would only play into the hands of the Potions Master. Made overconfident, Harry had gone too far in trying to be pleasant. He had known that he had made a mistake as soon as the words left his mouth.
Snape had been sweeping around the class, demanding that they volunteer a particularly difficult potion to make as their project for the year. He had already pointed out that it must be of a high level of complexity “ Harry suspected it was because he wanted to fail as many of the class as possible. As long as they weren’t Slytherins, that is.
“Potter. Miss Granger,” said Snape in an oily voice. “I hope the dream couple of Hogwarts has some idea of their plans for my class?” The Slytherins sniggered. “I must tell you, Miss Granger, that I will not tolerate a drop in standards just because you happen to be partnered with someone of markedly inferior abilities.”
“I’m sure Harry and I will do just fine,” said Hermione coolly, and began to suggest several ideas she had “ all for potions Harry had never heard of.
“Miss Granger,” Snape interrupted sarcastically. “Far be it from me to intrude upon your dreams of grandeur, but you should realise that some of those potions are very advanced indeed.” He tossed a book at her. “I suggest you look through this and try to come up with something more appropriate to your skill level.” His lip curled. “And the…er… skills of your partner.”
Harry opened his mouth to speak but saw Neville frantically shaking his head at him from the corner of his eye. He bit his tongue and counted to ten “ and remembered how Lupin had described to him Snape’s talent in making potions. Later he realised he should just have shut up, but some mad desire to at least build some kind of bridge with the Potions Master swept over him.
“Talking of difficult potions,” he said quietly, so that no-one other than Snape would hear him, “Lupin told me what you did for him. The Wolfsbane Potion. I guess… I guess I just wanted to say thanks.”
Snape reared back, looking utterly affronted. “Don’t go getting the wrong idea, boy,” he hissed. “I only ever made one batch, but Professor Lupin needs so little each month…” He brought his greasy head close to Harry’s. “Personally I’d like nothing better than to leave him to suffer, but I cannot abide the waste of good ingredients.”
Harry could feel his control over his temper slip, but before he could say anything, the sound of a book slapping shut reached his ears. Hermione practically shoved it back into Snape’s arms. Her expression was very cold, and Harry realised that she must have heard the entire conversation. “That cauldron won’t last forever,” she said in a tone of dangerous sweetness. “And since it’s obviously such a burden to you to make more, Harry and I can do it.”
“What?” blurted Harry, appalled. This hadn’t gone the way he had planned at all. Snape, on the other hand, was positively beaming.
“Interesting choice you’ve made there, Potter,” said Snape, looking as scarily happy as Harry had ever seen him. “I hope it doesn’t come back to bite you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” said Harry furiously, ignoring the fact that it hadn’t been his choice at all “ which was something that Snape was perfectly well aware of.
Snape cocked an eyebrow. “You should be more careful about the company you keep, Potter,” he said softly, dangerously. He looked at Hermione and then, very deliberately, at Neville. “It can be more trouble than its worth.”
Behind them, Harry heard a muffled snort of laughter. He rounded on the person behind him, and saw Blaise Zabini smirking at him. The knowing glance that passed between the Slytherin Prefect and the Potions Master kept Harry fuming for the rest of the lesson “ the more so because he couldn’t do anything about it.
Hermione was frantically flipping through an enormous Potions book, her face getting paler by the minute. “I can’t believe we have to make this!” she said shrilly. “Just look at the ingredients!”
Ron peered over her shoulder. “There’s got to be over a hundred of them. Snape’s not going to give you any “ you know that, don’t you?”
Hermione glared at him. “What are you doing here anyway?”
“Me?” said Ron, looking offended. “Why shouldn’t I? I’m allowed…”
“This is the first week of school,” said Hermione. “I’ve never seen you in the library this early before.”
“It’s not my fault,” said Ron grumpily, flinging himself into a chair. “It’s Malfoy, the git. He didn’t do anything last night, just folded his arms and smirked. I had to do all the work!”
“Well that won’t kill you,” said Hermione sarcastically. “It might actually be good for you.”
Ron stared at her as if she had grown a second head. “Harry, tell her!”
Both Ron and Hermione were glaring at him. Harry thought it best just to tell the truth.
“Hey, if you fail, he fails. I wouldn’t do his work for him.”
“Yeah,” said Ron. “But… Malfoy doesn’t have to go home to Mum when he fails.”
“Perhaps if you worried less about Malfoy’s grades and more about your own you wouldn’t have that problem,” said Hermione sniffily.
“That’s not the point!” protested Ron. “Just because you’ve gotten yourself into a great fat mess doesn’t mean you get to take it out on me.”
Hermione scowled at him, but Ron was saved from her reply when a big hand reached down over the top of her and plucked the Potions book out from in front of her.
“A great fat mess is a good way of describing it,” Lupin said mildly. “Harry, I’m almost afraid to ask, but why in Merlin’s name did you suggest this to Snape?”
“Ha!” said Ron, before Harry could open his mouth. “Harry didn’t do anything of the sort.”
“It was me,” admitted Hermione uncomfortably. “I know I shouldn’t have, but he was just being so…” she trailed off, and Lupin looked at her, one eyebrow raised.
“You shouldn’t make promises you cannot keep,” said Lupin softly.
Hermione turned red, but met his eyes. “With all due respect, Professor, I haven’t failed yet. I don’t intend to start now.”
Behind her, Ron reached for a shelf and furtively stuffed an astronomy book inside his robes.
Even after dinner, the grounds were still light, which made Harry feel better. The thought of stumbling into the Forbidden Forest in the dark (even when he knew he would have to stumble out of it in the dark) was a small comfort to him. He had asked Ron again over dinner whether he wanted to come out with them, but Ron had just given a hollow laugh, and Harry couldn’t really blame him. Every time they had ended up in the Forbidden Forest something had gone disastrously awry, and he knew better than to expect anything different this time. Still, at least he and Hermione would have Lupin with them this time.
Lupin had finally relented and agreed to help them with the Potion, although he did so very grudgingly. Harry couldn’t help but think that the thought of Snape gloating all year in the staffroom about their likely failure was one factor. He had managed to persuade Lupin to substitute their first training session for a trip into the Forbidden Forest. There was a particular ingredient that grew there, and Harry had argued that they might as well go and get it, treating the trip as an exercise in practical Defence. He had also hinted rather broadly that if Lupin didn’t agree, then he and Hermione might have to sneak out with Harry’s invisibility cloak and give it a go themselves “ and it was this that had finally convinced their teacher. The Forest was still forbidden to students, and Harry knew that Lupin would accompany them himself before letting them go out alone “ no matter how unhappy he was about it.
“I’m sorry I got you into this,” Hermione muttered as they waited on the steps to the Entrance Hall, wrapped in cloaks against the evening breeze.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Harry.
“I’m serious,” said Hermione, a shade unhappily. “It was a stupid thing to suggest. I could’ve bitten my tongue as soon as I said it.”
“Try to look on the bright side,” said Harry, wishing that he could do so himself.
“Snape was bound to hate anything that we were going to do. At least now he’s got a good excuse.”
Hermione frowned. “That’s not funny, Harry. I know this is my fault, and I’ll get this Potion right if it kills me.”
Harry took a deep breath. “It wouldn’t be the end of the world if we couldn’t do it, you know.” Hermione glared at him. “I’m just saying! Lupin told me that there’s only a handful of witches and wizards who can make it work.”
“And you don’t think I’m one of them?”
“I didn’t say that. But you’ve got me as your partner, remember? That hasn’t exactly bettered the odds.”
Hermione glared at him again. “We’re going to be fine. I don’t want to hear you say otherwise, Harry Potter. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Hermione,” said Harry dutifully, grinning as she rolled her eyes at him.
Lupin joined them shortly afterwards, an apprehensive look on his face. “I can’t believe I’m going along with all this.”
“Yeah, well. You can’t always be the responsible one,” Harry quipped. Even though the thought of a return visit to the Forbidden Forest had tied his stomach in knots, part of him felt buoyant to be out of the castle, and away from everyone’s eyes. It was a relief just to be doing something. He met Lupin’s gaze innocently, but his teacher just shook his head in disbelief.
“Alright, you two. Stay close together and keep your wands out. For pity’s sake don’t go wandering off “ we’re going straight to Grawp’s clearing and coming straight back.”
“Um, Professor?” Hermione squeaked, as they started across the lawn. “Are you sure Grawp’s actually gone?”
Lupin nodded. “Hagrid took him away over the summer holidays.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. Over to France at first, I think, but after that…”
“Oh, no,” groaned Harry. “Don’t tell me he’s going after the Giants again.”
Lupin looked at him sympathetically. “That was my assumption, though I never asked. I can’t help thinking it’s a lost cause, myself,” he finished absently, as they came to the fringe of the Forest. Harry and Hermione hung back a little. Lupin turned to survey them. “Are you sure you want to do this? You needn’t feel obliged to carry on for my sake, I assure you. And I expect even Professor Snape will let you change to another topic if you ask him to.”
Harry snorted. “Fat chance.” Beside him, he could see Hermione’s shoulders straighten as she took a deep breath.
“Harry’s right, Professor. He’d never let us change now. Personally, I’d just as soon as not give him the pleasure of saying no, if you don’t mind.”
Lupin shook his head in dismay. “I give up. You’re both as stubborn as each other. Come on then.”
It got steadily darker and cooler as they drew away from the fringe and moved deeper into the Forest. Harry wrapped his cloak around him a bit more closely, trying not to trip over the tree roots in his path. Missing one, he stubbed his toe badly. “What do these things look like again?” he grumbled.
“They’re not things, Harry, they’re Silvercaps,” said Hermione quietly. “Honestly, I showed you at lunch, remember? They’re like horse mushrooms, but their caps glow silver in the moonlight “ which is why you find them in clearings. They’re forest dwelling, but need the moonlight to grow.”
“I wonder if that’s why they’re used in the Potion?” said Harry, and Hermione nodded thoughtfully.
“I think so. After all, werewolves are strongly affected by the lunar cycle, and a lot of the ingredients we need have a connection to the moon as well.” She shivered a little.
“I don’t like this place. I don’t like it at all.”
“We’ll be there soon,” said Lupin comfortingly.
“It’s just so quiet,” said Hermione despairingly. “Is it always like this? I don’t remember…”
“It’s nothing,” said Harry, though he inwardly admitted that she was right. He cursed under his breath at himself, and Hermione scowled at him. “Uh, I tripped again…” he lied. “Bloody rocks.” The Forest did indeed seem too quiet, with none of the small rustlings that generally scared him half to death. Harry concentrated carefully, but although the hair on the back of his neck seemed to rise, there was no feeling of immediate danger. He gripped his wand tighter, and noticed that Lupin was also scanning the Forest on either side of them with greater urgency. His wand was held before him, glowing with light, and although it lit their way Harry knew that if anything was out there, it would also draw them closer in.
The feeling became stronger, and he was relieved when a few minutes later they reached the clearing. The trees that Grawp had uprooted during his previous stay lay fallen like matchsticks, but being out of the closeness of the Forest, in a place that he could feel cool air on his face, made Harry feel slightly better.
Hermione tugged on his arm. “There! Do you see them, Harry?” Clumped around the edges of the clearing was a faint silver haze. Harry squinted at it.
“Is that them?” he asked. “You know, somehow I thought they’d look a bit more impressive.”
Hermione rolled her eyes at him. “Really. What a thing looks like has no bearing on how useful it is. Just look at Dragon’s-”
“Dragon’s blood,” Harry recited, smirking. “Amazingly useful. Yeah, I know.”
Hermione shot him a repressive look. She moved to the nearest patch of Silvercaps, and began gathering them. Harry was just about to go and help her when a chill wind seemed to cut through the clearing. It died down almost instantly, but the feeling that had been growing in Harry during their walk in the Forest came back full force. He ran over to Lupin, who had his wand out and was turning in slow circles, obviously also affected.
“What is it?” Harry asked.
“I don’t know,” said his teacher tersely. “Whatever it is, it’s getting closer.” He shook his head in anger. “I should never have brought you two out here. Stupid, stupid.”
“We would have come anyway,” Harry said honestly. “With or without you…” his voice trailed off. The glade had darkened suddenly, and a horrible, all too familiar feeling washed over him. It only took a glance at his teacher’s face for him to realise that Lupin was also aware of the danger. A cold mist swept through Harry’s mind, and he began to shake.
Dementor.
Wand lit, Harry circled in the darkness, trying to get a fix on the creature. In the few moments it took for his eyes to get adjusted to the light streaming from his wand, he reached out with his mind, trying to judge the direction from which the chill was coming. Disoriented, in the dark, when he could see at last he felt his heart stop in his throat.
A Dementor stood between Hermione and himself and Lupin, advancing towards her as she crouched beside the mushrooms. Frozen, Harry tried to call out to warn her, but his voice died in his throat when he saw that she was already aware of it. Next to him, he could hear Lupin’s breath coming in explosive gasps, and dimly he realised that his teacher was as shocked as he was.
For Hermione seemed not to be reacting to the Dementor at all. Her wand was still held loosely in her hand, and she stared at it with a strangely distant expression. To Harry’s sheer disbelief, she gathered the few Silvercaps she had gathered in her arms and began to walk slowly to the next patch, turning her back on the Dementor as she did so. It moved to intercept her, and Harry willed himself to move, but before he could speak the incantation that would summon his Patronus Hermione had turned, and gazed straight at the Dementor with what looked like pure contempt. Amazed, Harry was certain that he saw it shrink from her. He could have sworn that it cringed.
Beside him, Lupin broke into action, running to put himself in front of Hermione, calling harshly at the Dementor. Silver shot from his wand, and an enormous wolf hounded the creature from the clearing. Slowly, Harry felt his head clear, but still he couldn’t seem to make himself move. He shook his head, trying to understand what had just happened.
Behind Lupin, Hermione was calmly picking the last of the mushrooms. Stowing her wand in a pocket, she stood up and shook her hair from out of her face, arms full of Silvercaps. “Shall we go then?” she said, and her voice had only a tiny tremble in it. “I think I’ve got enough now.”
“Hermione…” began Lupin hoarsely.
“I could really do with a mug of hot chocolate,” said Hermione thinly, and began to press back onto the path back to the castle. Dazed, Lupin and Harry trailed after her.
“Did you see that?” said Harry quietly to his teacher, more to hear the sound of his own voice than to get a response.
Lupin nodded abruptly, swallowing. “I thought… I thought you said she knew how to produce a Patronus.”
“She does,” said Harry.
“And against the Boggart?”
“I told you,” Harry said. “She drove it off faster than anyone. Faster than I did when you taught me, actually. I told you.”
“She learned faster than you did?” Lupin repeated, frowning.
“It’s different when it’s the real thing,” Harry argued, trying to convince himself. “Maybe she just panicked.”
Lupin made a hollow noise. “That wasn’t panic “ at least no panic I’ve ever seen. She knew what she was doing, Harry. She didn’t even try to ward it off.”
“No,” agreed Harry reluctantly. “It seemed to want to go away on its own.” The thought made him nervous, and the realisation that he and Lupin were speaking in hushed voices so that Hermione couldn’t hear them made him more nervous still. He peered at her shadow in front of them on the path, something nagging at him. In the silence that followed, he looked up beside him to see Lupin staring down at him with a solemn, fixed expression. “Well it did, didn’t it?” Harry said defensively.
“It did at that,” said Lupin slowly, unhappily. But his gaze never wavered. It made Harry feel distinctly uncomfortable, and he was glad to break out of the Forest and hurry towards the warmth and safety of the castle.
“Are you going to tell Dumbledore?” he asked as they went up the stairs and into the Entrance Hall.
“This very evening,” said Lupin grimly. “But first… Hermione? Can I speak with you for a few minutes?”
“I’m a bit tired actually, Professor,” said Hermione in a high, distant voice, not looking at either him or Harry. “I think I’d really better go to bed. And I’ve got to do something with these mushrooms first…” Without waiting for an answer, she turned and began to move automatically up the stairs, going faster as she went up.
Harry started to go after her, but Lupin held him back. “My office. Now.”
He followed Lupin down the corridors into his office, craning his head behind him to
see Hermione disappearing up the stairs with her arms full of mushrooms. Not looking where he was going, he would have banged into the door if his Defence teacher hadn’t hauled him to one side at the last second.
Propelling him into the office, Lupin shut the door firmly behind him and rounded on Harry.
“Do you know what happened out there?” he demanded.
“No,” said Harry honestly, feeling as bewildered and worried as Lupin looked.
“Are you sure?” Lupin asked, his hands on his hips. “This is serious, Harry. If you know something and you’re not telling me to get back at me for not telling you what happened over the summer…”
“I’m not,” Harry insisted. “I’m not. The truth is… the truth is I don’t know what’s wrong with her.”
Lupin regarded him steadily. “Alright. I believe you. But what we just saw tonight… something is very wrong here Harry, and I want to know what it is “ for Hermione’s sake, if nothing else. Do you understand me?”
Harry nodded, and Lupin waved him towards a chair. “Sit.” He turned to rummage about with a tray, making some tea and tipping some Ginger Newts onto a plate. Pushing a steaming teacup over to Harry, he seated himself behind the desk. Harry noticed that he didn’t touch his own cup, and his hands were interlocked so hard that the knuckles had turned white. Still, when Lupin spoke, his voice was calm.
“I need you to think very hard, Harry. I know you don’t understand exactly what happened in the Forest tonight, and to tell you the truth I don’t understand it either.” He rubbed at his forehead tiredly. “Still, you know Hermione better than I do, and from the look on your face earlier tonight I think you might have some idea about what’s going on. Now normally I wouldn’t force a confidence, and I don’t want to have to do so now. But if there is something you would like to tell me, now would be the time.”
Harry bit his lip, uncertain, and reached for a biscuit. He ate it slowly, deliberately not looking at Lupin, and feeling torn. He didn’t like the idea of telling tales one bit, but the incident with the Dementor had left him feeling shaken. He knew perfectly well that something was bothering Hermione, and at this point he felt quite unequal to dealing with it.
“I don’t know what’s upsetting her,” he said finally, abruptly. “But I know that something is “ she’s said as much.” He hesitated, and looked at Lupin in appeal. “I don’t even know if I should be telling you this,” he confessed, “But I just don’t know what to do.”
Lupin nodded slowly. “You’re in a difficult position,” he acknowledged neutrally.
“Just do what you think is best.”
Harry breathed in deeply, then let it all out in a rush. He was actually glad to have someone to confide in about it “ he hadn’t dared to tell Ron. “She’s been acting really weird lately, you know? Not so much any more “ you can only see it when she’s quiet. At first I thought it was her parents, but…there’s something… something that’s happened that she hasn’t told me about. Hasn’t told anyone, actually.”
“Are you sure about this?” said Lupin, starting a little.
“Yeah. She told me that something had happened the night… the night her parents were killed. She won’t tell me what it is.”
Lupin looked thoughtful. “Could she have told anyone else about this?” he asked. “Ron, for instance? Maybe Susan Bones?”
“I’m sure she hasn’t,” said Harry positively. “I’m the only one that knows that there’s something else.”
Lupin leaned back in his chair. “I’m not sure how that can be,” he said, looking honestly puzzled. “Aurors were with her all the time from when it happened to when she arrived at Grimmauld Place. If anything had happened they would have said something to me or Dumbledore.”
“They were with her all the time?” said Harry. “Are you sure?”
“That’s what I was told,” said Lupin.
“That’s what you were told?” Harry repeated. “You mean you weren’t there yourself?”
“I apparated in when the alarm came,” said Lupin unhappily. “Aurors and Order members were arriving all over the place, sweeping the house and the neighbourhood. It was chaos.”
“So you weren’t with her all the time,” clarified Harry.
“No,” said Lupin shortly, and Harry could see the questions begin to dawn in his eyes. He pushed himself up from his desk, and quickly stepped over to the fireplace. There was an old brass jar on the mantel, and reaching inside, Lupin tossed some of the contents into the fire, which blazed up bright green. Floo powder, Harry realised.
“Auror Headquarters, Ministry of Magic,” Lupin said in a clear voice. An instant later a dark head was visible in the flames.
“What is it?” the head said tersely.
“I need to speak to Nymphadora Tonks,” said Lupin tersely. “I’m Remus Lupin, the Defence Against-”
“I know who you are,” the little man snapped back in disdain. “Auror Tonks is busy at the moment; she has a lot of paperwork to catch up on. Is this an emergency, or can you call back later?”
“It can’t wait,” said Lupin flatly.
The little man sighed, and pushed his glasses higher up on his nose with a look of great annoyance. “One minute please.”
Harry and Lupin waited impatiently, Lupin motioning Harry to be quiet when it looked as if he was going to comment. After a short wait, a head with spiky pink hair appeared in the fire. Lupin interrupted her before she could speak.
“Is there any chance you could pop over for a bit of a chat?” he said. “The sooner the better?”
“With pleasure.” Tonks’ head disappeared, and a few moments later she stepped out of the fire, tripping over the grate and dusting soot from her cloak, eyeing them both grumpily.
“I’m glad you called,” she started. “I needed a distraction. Wotcher, Harry.”
“Hi, Tonks,” said Harry. “Who was that before?”
Tonks rolled her eyes. “Bates. He’s come to run the Auror Department. Madame Bones has foisted him off on us. Bloody menace,” she grumbled.
“Really?” asked Lupin. “I wouldn’t have thought Amelia Bones would have…”
“She hasn’t, really,” said Tonks wearily. “Oh, I mean she has.” She helped herself to a Ginger Newt. “Bates hasn’t been there very long, and there isn’t an Auror in the Ministry that doesn’t hate his guts; but in all fairness he’s the best manager we’ve had for ages. Madame Bones wants someone running things who won’t slip up, who won’t compromise trials and so on. I’ll give him this,” she went on grudgingly, “his organisational skills are second to none. We’re running at peak efficiency.” But she made a face as she said it.
“So what’s the problem?” Harry asked, mystified.
“Poor old Bates is a stickler for having things done just so,” answered Tonks. “He didn’t think my report from today’s shift was thorough enough so I have to do it all again. Still,” she brightened a bit, “you should have seen him yesterday. Apparently Kingsley was rash enough to put a goblet of pumpkin juice on his desk without a coaster. I thought Bates’ head would explode!” she went on mirthfully. “Kingsley says he’d rather face a couple of trolls than go through that again!”
Harry and Lupin smiled somewhat weakly. Tonks glared at them. “Okay. I can see I didn’t waste my life by not signing on as a comedy act for the wizarding wireless. What gives?”
Briefly, Lupin outlined the situation for her. Tonks sank into a chair and helped herself somewhat absently to another biscuit.
“Well,” she said. “I don’t know how much I can help you here…”
“Were you with her the whole time?” Harry asked, and Tonks nodded thoughtfully.
“Perhaps you could just give us both a quick rundown,” suggested Lupin, getting them all some more tea.
“I got there before Hermione, but after the attack,” said Tonks sombrely. “She’d gone to the corner shop to pick up something for her mother. I was in front of the house when she got back; could see her coming down the street. She seemed normal until she saw all the Aurors outside her house, and then she started running. We stopped her from going in at first, tried to break it to her gently, but she pushed passed us. On the door…” Tonks bit her lip and glanced at Lupin.
“Harry knows about the letter,” he said.
“Does Hermione know that he knows?” asked Tonks astutely.
“Yes,” said Harry impatiently. “That’s not it.”
Tonks eyed him assessingly. “Alright. She read the note and I think she must have known then.” Tonks looked miserable. “Her little face went white and she pushed into the house before we could stop her. I went with her; thought maybe it was better that she should see. You know, rather than imagine it. There wasn’t much to see, actually: they just looked asleep. After a few moments I took her out, and we came straight to Grimmauld Place.” She looked at Lupin. “You arrived only a few minutes after that. I had Hestia Jones bring her some clothes and books from her bedroom-”
“Was there anything unusual in there?” Lupin asked, and Tonks shook her head.
“Nothing. Other than being freakishly tidy for a teenage girl, that is. Someone else found Crookshanks in the garden.”
“Wasn’t there anything else?” said Lupin, and Harry could hear the barely concealed frustration in his voice.
“No. Nothing.”
“Did she say anything at any time? Anything that could be important?”
“I didn’t hear two words out of her,” said Tonks. “She just looked. And…”
“What?” said Harry.
“It’s nothing,” said Tonks. “Probably just shock, I expect. But when she saw her parents’ bodies, she got the oddest look on her face. I don’t think I could describe it if you paid me… gave me chills, to be honest,” she said. “Course, it was only there a few moments, then she burst into tears and I took her away.” She looked round at them both. “Like I said, it was probably shock.”
“That would be normal,” Lupin agreed. “But are you sure you didn’t see anything else? And you thoroughly checked the house?”
“Positive. Aurors went over that place for two days solid, with every kind of spell we knew, and a few more that Dumbledore suggested.”
“Well you missed something,” said Harry impatiently.
“No Harry,” said Tonks sadly, shaking her head at him. “We didn’t. I’d bet my life on it. There was nothing else.”