Thirty-Six
A Transition of Government
Long days became the norm in the weeks following Kingsley Shacklebolt’s official confirmation as the new Minister for Magic. Restructuring departments required endless meetings and careful diplomacy to see that his new vision was maintained without stepping on too many sensitive toes.
Kingsley’s absence from the Auror Department had left Deputy Head Alfonso Kirby temporarily in charge but it was abundantly clear that he and Moody did not work well together. Add to that the heavy load the Umbridge case had placed upon their shoulders and Harry was really beginning to feel the strain.
Returning from a protracted meeting one evening, he found that he’d totally missed saying good night to his godchildren. What’s more, he’d been so swamped with work that he hadn’t even glanced at the day’s paper which was folded on the hallway credenza.
In an unprecedented move, a laundry list of charges have been filed against Dolores Umbridge, former Undersecretary for retired Minister Cornelius Fudge. Alleging that she colluded with Voldemort’s forces, at issue are all manner of questionable activities within the Ministry of Magic as well as during her brief tenure at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
“Absolute rubbish!” Ms. Umbridge’s solicitor released in an official statement. “Since when has it become a crime to believe in traditional wizarding values? My client may be a bit of a dinosaur when it comes to the current administration’s multi-cultural agenda, but her actions only demonstrated her commitment to her ideals…. Are we going to be imprisoning my elderly Nana next because she still takes pride in her family tree?”
According to established protocols, the Auror Department refuses to provide any details concerning an ongoing investigation. They do confirm, however, that Ms. Umbridge is currently being held for questioning …
Harry averted his weary eyes as the print blurred to resemble a row of tiny ants. Those relentless reporters had been crowded into the Ministry Atrium for days now, requiring him to wrap his Invisibility Cloak over his Auror robes when he departed for work each morning. Today, he’d even found a few who’d wheedled their way into the Auror anteroom. Luckily, he’d managed to dodge down a side corridor and through the back entrance. He shuddered to think of those limpets attaching themselves when confronted with a familiar face.
“Tell me you haven’t forgotten to eat,” Ginny implored as she gazed at his droopy eyelids with concern. In the background, Dobby twisted his apron in the kitchen doorway.
“Just a bit of stomach upset,” Harry admitted. “That Caribbean fare Kingsley prefers can get a bit spicy.” Looking around the spectrally quiet house, he added, “Perhaps a digestive draught before turning in myself.”
“Soup will settle the Master’s stomach; just you wait and see,” Dobby offered as he hustled Harry towards the kitchen table.
Ginny occupied herself with brewing herbal tea specifically blended to promote relaxation. By the time she was pouring Harry a cup to accompany the sorrel soup, Remus wandered in from the direction of his study.
“Any news?” he posed congenially as he helped himself to some tea and scones.
“Moody and Kirby are like oil and vinegar,” Harry replied between mouthfuls of soothing liquids.
Tonks nodded knowingly as she joined the group. “Sounds like the situation which prompted Mad-Eye’s retirement the first time around.”
“Power vacuum,” Ginny put forth, stirring a bit of clover honey into her cup.
“I’d be lost without Moody,” Harry opined. “His skills are crucial to the Umbridge case.”
“Did Kingsley have any ideas?” Remus urged. “Presuming you’re not sworn to secrecy.”
Harry issued a dry chuckle. “I’m not an Unspeakable “ yet. But this absolutely has to stay between the four of us for now. Make that five. Did you hear me, Dobby?”
“Yes, Master. Elves do not gossip. And Hagrid is only concerned about matters because he cares for you.”
“You’ll have to let me tell Hagrid in my own way,” Harry clarified. “This time at least.”
With a nod of his overlarge head, Dobby redirected his attention to his baking.
Taking in the expectant faces turned in his direction, Harry capitulated with a weary sigh, “Kingsley wants me to assume the post of Head Auror.” He cut their congratulations off in mid-stream. “I’m not certain I should accept. Seems too much like a viper pit at the moment.”
Recognizing that Harry needed a sounding board more than anything else, Remus gently probed, “Isn’t Kingsley willing to work with you?”
Harry nodded morosely. “Only I haven’t the first notion of what’s needed. All I can think about is how Kirby is going to be incensed that I leap-frogged over his head…But truthfully, I don’t think I can work with that man, either.”
“What makes you say that?” Ginny posed as her gentle fingers unknotted his shoulders.
“No sense of humor,” Tonks interceded.
Harry agreed. “Moody’s irreverence cheers me up. It’s not a demoralizing force when we’re reminded to not take ourselves too seriously.”
“Can’t Kingsley find another spot for Alfie?” Tonks supposed. “Other than the Centaur Office.”
“He wants to establish a new bureau of Munitions and Manifests to help cut down on the paperwork.”
“Sounds like an ideal post for someone with Kirby’s pecuniary talents,” Remus concurred.
“Right,” Harry concurred. “Only then Kingsley’s wants me to nominate a deputy head of my own choosing. That’s where I hit the proverbial brick wall.”
“Mad-Eye won’t do it,” Tonks surmised.
“Doesn’t want to lose the flexibility of his adjunct status,” Remus echoed.
“Mentioned something about Azkaban complete with dementors as being preferable.” Harry felt his stomach begin to unknot as he conceded, “Only I’ve never worked closely with anyone else. Other than Kingsley. And I can’t very well suggest you, Remus!”
“You just don’t want to be stuck in a marriage of convenience,” Ginny summarized.
“Select someone who’s close to retirement age,” Tonks volunteered. “That way you can take your time finding the ideal candidate while he marks time.”
“It’s a tried and true method,” Remus encouraged.
Harry stopped to think for a moment. “There’s John Dawlish. But didn’t you say he was a right prig to work with, Tonks?”
“Sexist pig, to be exact,” Tonks supplied. “A problem you shouldn’t encounter.”
“Just leave your lacy robes in the back of the closet,” Ginny quipped.
“Especially the mauve ones,” Remus deadpanned.
Harry couldn’t help laughing at their antics. “Thanks, I needed that. If you don’t mind me changing the subject “ with great relief, I might add “ there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask Tonks.”
As she pantomimed being caught in the headlights, Harry started chortling all over again. Finally, he was able to compose himself enough to proceed. “What’s the big no-no about children playing with Floo Powder? The Toad made such a fuss and I could feel you shaking with pent up laughter.”
“First hand experience, no doubt,” Remus supplied as he closed the door to the cold cabinet. “I had enough sense to heed my own mother’s warnings.”
“Is it flammable?” Ginny urged, her insouciant expression underscoring the potential for mischief which ran through her family.
“Umm, didn’t test that theory,” Tonks replied. “We never kept Muggle matches around the house.”
“Not that anyone wonders why,” Remus injected with a wry grin.
Tonks swatted at him playfully. “As for the Powder itself, it creates a buoyant layer of magic. Probably has to do with allowing you to bounce unimpeded down the Floo Network.”
Ginny issued a wistful smile at the possibilities. “So you can bounce like a regular beach ball?”
“Use enough and you can actually ricochet off the ceiling,” Tonks confided lowly. “Can’t be counteracted with other spells, either.”
“Just think of the possibilities,” Harry raved with a hint of nostalgia.
“But the powder clings everywhere,” Tonks admitted. “So it’s not a secret vice you can hide from your mum.”
“Let’s make sure my children never discover this,” Remus cautioned, noting that the resident house-elf had retired for the night. Lowering his voice, he added, “Footprints on the ceiling indeed. Dobby, for one, will be grumbling about the mess for days.”
“Does it resist elfish magic, too?” Ginny considered.
“Can’t rightly say,” Tonks admitted. “We didn’t have a house-elf when I was growing up. Poor bloke would’ve probably given notice.”
Recalling Hermione’s research for S.P.E.W., Harry ventured, “That’s only if it was a free elf -- and those are few and far between. An elf who was tied to the house, or family, would have been bound to serve.”
“Likely circumstances would’ve forced him to become a renegade,” Remus chuckled.
“Ooooh!” Tonks cried. “We could start a whole new genre of spaghetti Westerns with elves on ponies. Do you think I could sell that to the BBC?”
“Considering Muggles don’t recognize the existence of elves, I doubt it,” Remus returned. “But I might suggest it to Bridget for a story idea.”
“By the way, darling, when is she scheduled to come for her inspection tour?” Tonks inquired.
“You make it sound as if she’s checking us out,” Remus protested.
“Isn’t she?” Tonks returned.
“She just wants to see if the children like her. I doubt she relishes an uphill battle.” Remus took a moment to consider then supplied, “Saturday next, at one. I invited her to lunch with us.”
“You do realize that’s the same day as Luna’s bridal shower,” Ginny interjected.
“Is it?” Remus replied uncertainly.
“Don’t worry,” Tonks reassured him. “That’s not until the evening. Gives us plenty of time.”
“Are you certain you don’t want me and Ron to watch the children?” Harry proffered.
“Not this time,” Tonks insisted. “Figgy promised they could play with her cats and you know what a treat that is.”
Remus made the best of the opportunity as he ventured, “Besides, Harry, you and I have another engagement. Did you forget that it was Sirius’ birthday?”
Momentarily confused, Harry uttered, “Don’t you and Tonks usually celebrate that?”
“Not this year,” Remus affirmed. “It’s time we started a new tradition…” He took an extra moment to make sure Teddy hadn’t snuck back from bed. “…just us men. Unless you don’t want to keep me company?”
Harry warmed to the infamous Marauder’s smile. “Considering the alternative is the ultimate girly event, I’d be happy to.” As they Levitated their used plates towards the sink, he commented, “You may have cause to rethink your comments about the Centaur Office, Tonks.”
She turned in the doorway leading towards the other wing with a playful pout. “It was one of my favorite euphemisms.”
“Even so,” Harry attested. “But now that Hermione has rightly assumed her post as Amos’ deputy head, she’s convinced that overtures to all creatures are in order. She’s in the process of contacting Firenze to be the official liaison.”
“A centaur holding a Ministry position will establish Kingsley as a ground-breaker for certain,” Remus commented.
“Be sure to remind Hermione to mention the Umbridge investigation,” Ginny whispered in Harry’s ear. “That alone should help pave the way with the centaurs.”
The day dawned as if the sun was unsure of itself. The silvery sheen of early morning hung upon the horizon until midday when it was replaced by a solid grey wall that signaled rain. Submitting to the inevitable, Tonks assisted Dobby with setting up the luncheon under the narrow eaves along the arbored patio. It would mean using two long tables instead of a large round one, but the necessary transfiguration was not a complicated one.
They managed to make it through the main portion of the meal before the cool breeze whipped up and started splattering them with fat, summer raindrops. As the guests ran for cover inside the house, Dobby snapped his long fingers with a mighty scowl. For a split second, the used dishes and silver leapt to attention before being gathered up within the tablecloths. A commanding swoop of his bony arm directed the bundles towards the kitchen for sorting and cleaning.
Pudding was served in the first story playroom as the Dowager displayed considerable skill at billiards against Harry, Bill and Teddy. On the oval rug before the bay window, Phoebe removed all the furnishings from her dacha so she could play at ‘Renovation’ with Victoire and Yvette.
“Now remember, cheries, ze wall colors are only temporary,” Fleur trilled as she made a quick wand movement. Seating herself next to Tonks, she confided, “Zat’s ‘ow my maman did eet when I was a child. We didn’t ‘ave magical paint een ze olden days.”
Tonks gave her a sage nod. “My mum still uses that spell at the dressmaker’s. Avoids imperfect dying charms later.”
It wasn’t long before Victoire became impatient with the rain and insisted that she was ready to return home to her sunny beach.
“But, cherie, zere ees no guarantee eet will not be raining zere as well,” Fleur issued in diplomatic warning. “Zummer ees ze zame een all of Britain.”
“Moi, aussi,” Yvette urged as she tugged on her mother’s hand.
Capitulating to the inevitable, Bill and Fleur said their farewells and assured Bridget that they’d be pleased if she agreed to tutor Victoire as well.
Once they had seen their guests off, Remus and Tonks returned upstairs to find Phoebe kneeling on the window seat and staring forlornly at the soggy grounds. With her stubby finger, she traced the tracks of the raindrops as they sluiced faster and faster to join into wider rivers before disappearing beyond the bottom edge.
“What’s got you so intrigued?” the Dowager posed as she settled her hip on the wide cushion.
“They run to join their friends,” Phoebe pronounced.
“Really? I always saw it as a road map of sorts. But then I always liked to read on rainy days. That way I could travel to the farthest destinations without getting wet.”
Noticing the book the Dowager had tucked under her arm, Teddy inquired, “What did you bring? That’s not one of ours.” Behind him, the abandoned billiard balls slowly rolled to a stop.
“I hardly think so, Spook,” Remus concurred as he helped himself to another slice of coconut icebox pie. “Miss Bridget brought that from home. She’s going to be joining us on our visit to Germany this summer.”
“Pictures?” Phoebe demanded as she held out her hands eagerly.
“Rather nice ones as I recall,” Bridget allowed as she opened the book to a random page. “A favorite of mine from my youth.” Over her shoulder, Teddy scowled at the unfamiliar words. “It’s in German,” she explained. “Your father suggested I practice a bit before our trip.”
“Tell us the story from the pictures,” Teddy suggested.
“I often do that; rather like a summary of sorts,” Remus volunteered. It worked particularly well with the vivid illustrations in military books where the printed words were too stuffy for children.
“You might actually be familiar with this tale,” Bridget began. She held up the cover which was lettered: Peter Pan Auf Deutsch.
Remus couldn’t help chuckling at the coincidence. “Peter Pan is one of their favorites.”
“Let’s go to the tree house,” Phoebe urged, catching the hem of Bridget’s sleeve.
“Not today, sweetheart. It’s much too wet and miserable,” Tonks explained.
“The tree house has a roof,” Teddy countered pragmatically.
“But it’s not likely watertight,” Remus noted. For the Dowager’s benefit, he added, “The tree house is the official headquarters of the Lost Boys.”
“I see. Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I’m a bit old for tree climbing.”
“Mum does it.”
“Ginny, too,” Phoebe supplied in support of her brother.
Remus flashed an apologetic smile. “Both of whom are considerably younger, I might add. But there’s no reason you can’t use props inside the house.”
With a sharp crack, Dobby appeared holding out various items of clothing. Teddy donned a bright green cap while Phoebe beseeched the house-elf to adjust Tiger Lily’s headband to a smaller size. At the last moment, she snatched Tinker Bell’s wand as well.
“Are you going to play both parts, Rabbit?” the Dowager posed with an encouraging smile.
“Ginny’s busy,” Teddy provided.
“Ginny usually plays Tiger Lily,” Remus provided. “I swear she and Teddy have developed their own hand signals and everything.”
“Victoire and Yvette often round out the cast as the Darling children,” Tonks elaborated. “Wendy and her little sister, Michelina. We took a bit of liberty with the names, but she stalwartly clutches her stuffed bear just as in the illustrations.”
Noticing that no one had claimed the black plumed hat, the Dowager pressed, “Who plays Captain Hook?”
Tonks sighed. “Alas, no one. Harry was hopeless and Remus laughed too much at everyone’s antics to be remotely believable.”
Remus stopped himself from contributing that in the traditional staging of Peter Pan, the roles of Captain Hook and the children’s father were always portrayed by the same actor; thus underscoring that all adults are pirates bent upon stealing a child’s most precious possession: his childhood. There would be plenty of time for his own children to learn life’s difficult lessons.
“Don’t look at me,” the Dowager cautioned. “The only character I ever met was Hook’s mother.”
“You knew the Captain’s mum?” Teddy posed with wide-eyed wonder.
“You didn’t think the man hatched from an egg, did you?” Bridget gamely retorted.
Phoebe giggled as she shook her head emphatically.
“That story’s not in the books,” Teddy announced matter-of-factly.
“I don’t suppose it is,” Bridget allowed. “But that doesn’t make it any less true.”
“Then why was it left out?” Teddy insisted.
Bridget stopped to think a moment before replying, “Perhaps because Captain Hook paid the author to pen the story and he didn’t want the whole world to know the real truth. It was bad enough that the writer reworked the tale to revolve around Peter Pan instead --”
“Not in the play,” Teddy argued. “Captain Hook gets all the best songs, or so Mum says.”
“So you’ve been to see the stage production as well?” Bridget considered as she adjusted her strategy.
“West End,” Phoebe added.
“A friend knew one of the dancing pirates so he got us tickets to a matinee,” Tonks provided.
“Then you’re very observant to notice the change of focus,” the Dowager commented to the children’s delight. “That’s because Captain Hook himself wrote the musical. Wanted to make sure the tale was done right this time. He was a bit of an egotist, his own mum used to say. The least accomplished of her children, but the most self-assured.”
Instantly alert, Phoebe questioned, “He had brothers and sisters?”
“Two older brothers,” the Dowager attested. “Taller and stronger and much better suited to the family trade of piracy. James, for that was Hook’s Christian name, was a bit of a sissy. A nancy boy, his rough-and-tumble brothers would say. What with his fancy buttons and epaulets. Not to mention the lacy shirts. Dressed as if he was going to the Regent’s Ball every day.
“But even though little James was a bit of a disappointment, his mum still loved him and encouraged him to follow his own dream. And there was no doubt he loved sailing in his little dinghy even at a young age. Why when his brothers would tease him by sending a nasty wave his way, James would maneuver the rudder and trim the sail just right to keep from capsizing. Likely, it was due to not wanting to damage his velvet waistcoat with seawater, his mother always maintained, but there was no denying he was a born sailor.
“As James’ brothers grew up and assumed fearsome pirate names like Wrinkly-Shirt and Grimy-Neck…” Artfully, she allowed the children’s laughter to bring her up short. “What’s so funny?”
“Those aren’t pirate names,” Phoebe giggled.
“You need something fearsome,” Teddy maintained as he puffed out his chest. “Something to make people quake in fear.”
“Oh, piffle, I see what you mean,” Bridget conceded. “Can’t say I recall the names their mother confided.”
“How about Blackbeard?” Teddy supplied.
“Now that one rings a bell,” Bridget nodded. “But I’m certain that was someone else.”
Teddy tried again. “Scarface?”
The Dowager considered for a moment then shook her head. “I don’t think so. Besides, that’s a name that has to be earned and I don’t recall her saying that any of her boys had been disfigured.”
“What about Captain Hook’s hand?” Phoebe posed with alacrity.
“That came much later in the story,” Bridget stipulated.
“Didn’t he earn that name?” Teddy reasoned.
Bridget smiled warmly. “Yes, he did! Considering the family name wasn’t Hook to begin with.”
With mounting excitement, the children clamored for more.
“Well, you have to understand that pirates are outlaws. Criminals in every sense of the word. They steal from others and then horde the treasure. No sharing with the poor like Robin Hood. Oh, no, there’s nothing heroic about pirating. So all the years that her children were growing up, their mum had to keep packing the family up and moving every few years. It was the only way she could keep ahead of the law.”
“Where did she go?” Phoebe squeaked in anticipation.
“From one country to another,” Bridget expounded. “It didn’t matter that most of their seaside shacks were rather run down, to say the least. Their mum was handy enough herself. After all, the only thing that mattered was that they were close to the seashore so the boys could go sailing.”
“Was their family name a secret?” Teddy concluded.
“Not exactly, but every time they moved, their mum would add a new syllable to the end of it to try to confuse any trackers. Sometimes she’d also adjust the spelling to change their ancestry. By the time I met her, the name was extraordinarily long. Too long for me to recall with any accuracy, I’m afraid.”
“How many letters?” Phoebe demanded.
“Forty-three and a half,” the Dowager returned with aplomb.
Remus couldn’t help but chuckle when Teddy instantly protested, “No such thing as a half letter.”
“I beg to differ,” the Dowager volleyed back. “What about an umlaut?”
“That’s a made-up word!” Teddy decried.
“Afraid not, Spook,” Remus intervened. “An umlaut is those two little dots you sometimes see over German vowels.”
Bridget indicated an example in the Peter Pan text.
Teddy opened his mouth for a follow-up question, but Remus cut across expertly, “Don’t ask me why it’s singular instead of plural; it just is.”
“I was going to ask that myself,” Tonks breathed in Remus’ ear as she curled up on the loveseat next to him.
“So was the name like Rumplestiltskin?” Phoebe asked.
“Even longer. I couldn’t begin to remember it in its entirety, let alone pronounce it,” the Dowager acknowledged. “But you’re very perceptive, Phoebe. Like Rumplestiltskin, pirate names are best kept secret.”
“If no one could say the name, no one could find them.” Teddy wagged his head happily as it all made sense.
Bridget concurred with an encouraging smile. “Rather hard to ask after someone if all you can do is mumble their name. So that hampered the authorities as well. The only thing I can tell you for certain is that the family name began with the letter H. That’s why James initially decided to call himself Captain Hoodwink.”
The children sniggered at the silly notion.
“Not very fearsome, is it?” Bridget established. “But then Captain Hoodwink “ or Hook, as we’ve come to know him “ really wasn’t much of a pirate. Sure he walked the walk and his tall ship flew the Jolly Roger flag, but he didn’t get a very lucrative pirating territory when you stop to think about it.
“His eldest brother settled with the roughs who threatened the Barbary Coast. Do you know where that is?”
As the children shook their heads, Dobby snapped his long fingers. “Will you show Dobby, too?” the elf entreated with a deep bow as he positioned the globe from Remus’ study before them.
“My pleasure,” Bridget replied as she traced the North African coastline near the Straits of Gibraltar. “See right here where the ocean gets really narrow. Perfect place for an ambush. Now his other brother eased himself in with the gang that owned the Hispaniola route.” She spun the globe to indicate a large island in the Caribbean Sea. “Lots of little rocky islands with inlets where they could hide their boat, not to mention a tropical climate that made for year-round plundering.”
“Where’s Neverland?” Phoebe asked as she peered quizzically at the globe.
“Not there, is it?” the Dowager prompted. “That’s just how far off the beaten track Captain Hook had to go to find a group of pirates who would take him. Right off the frigging globe itself!
“But like I said before, he was more of a dandy than a pirate. So while his brothers came up against frigates that could blast their ships with mighty cannons, our Captain Hook only battled a band of boys.
“Not that the Lost Boys weren’t a clever bunch, making ingenious use of sling-shots and the occasional cutlass one of the absent-minded pirates left behind. And Tiger Lily had her band of Indians who could slink like shadows and rain down a cloud of arrows. But can you really compare that with cannonballs and musket fire on the open water?”
“Mistress must keep an eye on the time,” Dobby whispered at Tonks’ elbow.
“If you’ll excuse me, Bridget,” Tonks implored as she rose to her feet. “Ginny and I have a wedding shower to attend.”
“Forgive me,” the Dowager smoothed her skirt as she rose to her feet. “I didn’t realize how the time slipped away.”
“But we want to hear about the crocodile!” Phoebe protested.
“This morning you couldn’t wait to play with Aunt Figgy’s cats,” Remus chortled.
“We can do that anytime,” Teddy whined.
“I’m afraid Harry and I have plans as well,” Remus apologized to their guest.
“By all means,” Bridget consented. “But I don’t mind watching over the children, if that’s all right with you. Everyone hates to stop in the middle of a story, me included. Dobby will help me put them to bed, won’t you?”
“Oh, yes.” Dobby looked up at Bridget with adoring eyes. “Dobby wants to hear how the story ends, too.”
“Can we please?”
“Please, Daddy?”
“Are you sure, Bridget?” Remus posed. “You’re welcome to stay to supper with the children, but the rest of us might be quite late.”
“Dobby can see me out once the children are tucked in,” Bridget proposed. “You and I can work out the details in the next day or so. Is that acceptable, Remus?”
“Absolutely,” he replied with a wide grin. Following Tonks down the stairs, he left them blissfully enjoying the Dowager’s spirited revamping of the familiar tale.
“Does this mean we pass muster?” Tonks inquired as she chose a sparkly top for the party.
“I would say so,” Remus replied as he changed into more casual attire.
“How did she take the Animorphmagus thing?”
“Like a professional, although she did promise to bone up on her Beatrix Potter. You do recall me telling you she worked in the maternity ward when she was younger.”
Tonks frowned slightly as a possible wrinkle came to mind. “I don’t want my daughter treated as a scientific curiosity, either.”
“She won’t be, cherub. I was very clear about that. Told Bridget how only immediate family and those present that night even know. She agreed to keep it confidential.”
“Not even Sera or Serenity?”
“Not even them,” Remus confirmed. “Bridget concurred that it should be Phoebe herself who determines whom she’ll trust to witness her magical abilities firsthand. Besides, I think Bridget was more concerned about her own secret.”
“Oh, I’d totally forgotten about that! What did you tell her?”
“That it was best for now to say nothing. If the children ask at a later date, then I will tell them the same thing that I told them about me.”
“You did warn her that we don’t use the word ‘werewolf’?”
“You’re worrying needlessly,” Remus soothed as he eased his wife onto his lap. “Bridget will be the soul of discretion, just you wait and see.”
“I would’ve enjoyed hearing the rest of her take on Captain Hook,” Tonks admitted. “And Dobby was so clever to enlarge one of his own aprons for her to tie over her summer frock.” When they’d left, Bridget was just tucking a wooden knife next to the toy pistol on her waistband. “It was all I could do to keep from laughing every time Teddy interrupted her.”
Remus sighed. “I just hope he doesn’t try her patience.”
“Rubbish!” Tonks declared. “They were playing off one another, Phoebe included.”
“So you’re saying Bridget employs tried and true improvisational techniques?”
“Absolutely,” Tonks exclaimed. “Freddy once took me to see this one experimental troupe on the very fringes of the theatre district….”