Harry Potter: The Making of a Dark Lord

August 7, 1995 – Hogwarts, Hospital Wing

Nymphadora Tonks rested her heavy black boots on the edge of Harry Potter's hospital bed as she reclined in her chair and perused the quidditch scores in today's Daily Prophet. Merlin the Cannons suck, she reflected.

It was her day off from work, and she had spent most of the day at Hogwarts waiting for Harry Potter to awaken. The-Boy-Who-Lived had given her the fright of her young life almost 24 hours ago, and she felt the need to confirm with her own eyes that he was alright. It wasn't everyday that the wizarding world's most famous teenager was attacked by dementors in broad daylight. She couldn't bear to think about what would have happened had she arrived two seconds later.

She lowered the paper and glanced at the sleeping black-haired boy. He should be awake by now, she thought. That potion should have…wait, here we go…

Harry Potter let out a low groan and opened his eyes blearily. He knew instantly where he was. Hospital wing. Bloody fantastic. What had he done this time?

"Wotcher, Harry."

Harry squinted in the direction of the female voice and tried to make out her features.

"Oh, right….here you go," he heard as his glasses were slipped over his nose.

Now Harry could see his companion clearly. She was a young witch, probably somewhere in her early 20s, with a cute face and short, bright pink hair that was spiked in every direction. She looked to be dressed in a black muggle t-shirt and baggy green cargo pants. No robes in sight. She could easily pass for a muggle who was into punk rock, Harry thought.

"Who are you?"

"Name's Tonks. And you gave me quite a scare yesterday, young man." Still standing over him, she crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a mock glare.

"Huh? What…." And then Harry remembered. Dementors. In Little Whinging. He sat up abruptly and made to leave the bed.

"Whoa, easy tiger. Just lay back, or Madam Pomfrey will have my hide. She left to get something to eat, but she'll be back in a bit."

Harry lay back down and tried to calm his racing heart. He remembered trying but failing to cast the Patronus Charm. And then the cold…how had he gotten out of that mess?

"What…er, do you know how I got here?"

"I do. Professor Dumbledore brought you here after the attack. It probably isn't safe at your house anymore. Erm, do you remember anything about the attack?" Tonks asked hesitantly.

Harry thought. "Just that I couldn't get my charm to work, and I thought I was about to die." And then he remembered Dudley being there.

"What…what happened to my cousin?" Harry asked, dreading the answer and somehow knowing what it would be.

Tonks looked at him sadly. "I'm sorry, Harry. He didn't make it. They had already gotten to him when I arrived, and my patronus was just barely in time to save you. I did everything I could."

Oh God. Oh my God, thought Harry. I stunned Dudley. I stunned him and he couldn't escape. I stunned him and they sucked out his soul. Harry had no love whatsoever for his cousin—he despised him, in fact—but he would never have wished such a terrible fate upon him.

Tonks observed his horrified expression and wished there was something she could say that would help. But there was nothing.

"I stunned him," Harry whispered. He looked at Tonks, as if pleading for her understanding. "I stunned him and he couldn't get away. It's my fault."

"I saw, Harry," she said softly. "I was too far away to do anything at first. But I saw everything. He was attacking you, and you did what you had to do. It's not your fault. I would have done the same."

"But…but my spell didn't work. It should have worked!" Harry's voice was choked with emotion, and Tonks gently tried to comfort him.

"It's alright, Harry. That's a hard charm to get right. Not everyone can do it. You did your best, and you've got nothing to be ashamed of."

Harry bristled at the condescension concealed in Tonks' words. He didn't know this witch, but it irritated him that she thought him too weak to cast a patronus. He had mastered that spell in his third year, and he damn well knew how to "get it right!"

"That's not what I meant," he glared at her. "I know how to cast a patronus. I've done it perfectly dozens of times. I don't understand why it didn't work. It just…I don't understand." The anger had fled from Harry by the time he finished speaking. He realized he was getting angry at someone who had very recently saved his life.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't thank you. I must seem like a giant prat. Seriously, thank you, I owe you my life."

Tonks grinned at the earnest tone of the young man before her. "You're welcome, Harry. My pleasure. I'm just glad I could help."

"Oh, before I forget, there was a house elf at Figgy's who was really worried about you. Poor little guy was nearly hysterical; I thought I was going to have to stun him to get him out of my hair. You might want to find him and let him know you're alright. He said he was going to bring all your stuff here."

Harry nodded. Dobby was probably pulling his ears right out of his head by now. Then Tonks' words registered. Figgy's? Mrs. Figg? The cat lady who used to babysit him?

"I'll call Dobby in a second. You said I was at 'Figgy's?' What was I doing in Mrs. Figgs' house?"

"Oh…well, that's where I took you after the attack. I used her floo to get hold of the headmaster so he could figure out what was going on. I was a bit stressed, and I was worried that maybe the dementors had, well, you know…" Tonks informed him, shuddering while remembering those terrible few minutes of panic.

"I'm just glad I decided to show up early," she smiled at him. "Cor, I thought the headmaster was going to murder Dung right in front of my eyes."

Harry was now shaking his head in confusion and irritation. What the hell is she talking about? "Wait…Mrs. Figg has a floo? She's a witch? What did you show up early for? And who is 'Dung?' I don't understand."

It was Tonks' turned to look confused.

"Er, well, I was there early for guard duty. Dung is Mundungus Fletcher; he was supposed to be watching you yesterday afternoon, but he fell asleep in the bushes and missed the whole thing, the bloody git. We use Mrs. Figg's house as our base; she's a squib."

"Guard duty," Harry repeated, his temper starting to flare. "You mean I've had people guarding me all summer long? Why am I learning about this right now?"

"Well…," Tonks hesitated. She didn't quite understand why Harry was getting so angry. "The headmaster didn't want anyone to make contact with you. He said you were grieving and wanted to be left alone, so we were just supposed to watch."

.....

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