"Who are you?"
Tonks whirled on her heels, her chest heaving with every breath she dared to take. It was very dark. It was very cold. And she was very, very frightened.
"I'll ask again, who are you?"
"What?" She asked in exasperation, fumbling through the darkness. She felt for her wand but was greeted with an empty holster instead. When did I get here? Where was-...Did I-...? "What the fuck is going on?" she murmured to herself, fists clenching subconsciously at her sides.
"It's a very simple question," the voice chucked bitterly, distinctively male. It was oddly familiar. The thought both comforted and disquieted her.
"Tonks!" She snarled in frustration. "It's Tonks!" Her name echoed off of the walls. Are there even walls in this place?
"Tonks...? Hufflepuff. Auror. Metamorpmagus." It spat the last word with unsuppressed venom. "Metamorpmagus," it hissed once more. "Abomination. Stain on the Wizarding World. Liar!" The voice boomed. Tonks staggered, an invisible force launching the girl backwards. "You are all liars!"
"I...I don't..." Her throat was unbearably dry. And the blackness was tightening around her like a vice. Poking, prodding, squeezing. "Stop it!" She cried in alarm. "I don't know what you're-!"
"SILENCE!" It roared. "You lie. You wear the face of others. You use your wicked talents however you please - you manipulate yourself and those around you. You are a poison - you are false." It paused, seemingly reveling in the fact that Tonks was shaking madly, her eyes wide with fear. "Are you Tonks? Are you certain?" It purred. Tonks felt a cold hand caress her cheek.
"How do you know, my love? You could be Tonks, as you so claim...but you change so often, don't you? Your hair, the color of your eyes...your body." Those same hands firmly massaged her shoulders, she was utterly rigid. "You've lost yourself, haven't you...?" It cooed into her ear. "Haven't you, my darling?"
Tonks blinked slowly against the darkness. Tears welled in her eyes but she refused to let them fall. The girl bowed her head, stifling a sob.
Am I that far gone?
Tonks.
She thought of the way her name sounded coming from the Weasley children's excited shouts when she was thrown into embrace after embrace on Christmas Day. She thought of the way Sirius shrieked her name in fury when she purposely gave him fleas after a long night of drinking.
She thought of the way Remus held her to his chest, her name on the tip of his tongue as he sighed against her lips.
Tonks.
The girl lifted her head. She placed a hand against her chest, over her rapidly beating heart. This heart. Her's. Regardless of the shell it wears - this heart is her's. "I know who I am," she said quietly, her voice rife with conviction.
"My name is Nymphadora Tonks."
The dark world exploded with color.
