A/N: This story was written for The Houses Competition, Year 3, Round 4 (Bonus Round).

House: Gryffindor

Year: Head Girl

Category: Bonus (#2)

Prompts: List One: 7. [Trope] Ugly Duckling turned Beauty Queen. List Two: 8. [Character] Mad-Eye Moody. List Three: 5. [Action] Chasing.

Word count: 2978 words (written on Google docs)

Betas: Thank you to the amazing Shiba (Shiba-Lyfe) for beta'ing!

I don't think I've ever been challenged more than I have for this bonus, so I hope you like this. It is AU in that Tonks' crush is made up, as are the characters Darren Wilkes, Peggy Haywood (hints at Penny Haywood's grandmother/ mother), Cedrella (hints at being a Weasley), Professor Flippet, and the criminals. I also had to guess dates and character ages, as I know Moody was younger than Dumbledore and Hooch, but much older than Tonks. No, he doesn't have a crush on her; I tried to show mentor relationship/ uncle figure (and I hope I didn't fail).

I'm most worried about my take on prompts and flow, so thanks for putting up with it, and thank you for reading! Xx

Don't Chase, Don't Change

"Hmmm."

When yet another sigh came from across the room, Alastor Moody allowed his magic eye to swivel over to his apprentice. She'd been sighing all morning as she blew on a lock of aqua-coloured hair. He'd considered rebuking her for not doing her work, but he knew that acknowledging it would cause her to spill whatever was on her mind. With a tight deadline and Scrimgeour on his back, he had no time for teen drama.

Instead, he dipped his quill into the inkpot and tried to make sense of the case. The victim had been murdered through Muggle means—two gunshot wounds—but had been found in Knockturn Alley. He was sure that it was the doing of a dark wizard, but his regular culprits were far too proud to use such a weapon as a gun.

Unless…

"Hmmm…"

Alastor threw down his quill as another sigh broke his concentration.

"Remind me, how did you pass your exams?" he said, twisting around so that he was facing her.

Tonks shrugged. "Moody, do you have a crush on anyone?"

"I—what? Get back to work."

He narrowed his eyes and pointed to the parchment in front of her. He waited until she picked up her quill before turning back to his own work.

Blissful silence soon overtook the office, and he found his thoughts going back to the case. He'd heard a few rumours about a Muggle-based werewolf gang returning to England, and wondered if perhaps they had the means to use such a weapon.

"Moody…"

"What?"

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

If he had trained her well enough, she probably would've noticed that his quill stopped scribbling, or that his cheeks, for the first time in a long time, were burning. He'd been warned of something like this happening but had thought that Tonks would be more sensible. He was far too old, not to mention dedicated to his job, for her to develop a crush on him.

He took a few deep breaths. "I—erm—well, you see…" he spluttered. "It's not that professional to develop relationships between a mentor and mentee. We all need to keep on our toes—"

"Oh… oh! No, erm, I didn't…" Alastor looked up to see that Tonks' hair was now a bright pink, matching her rosy cheeks. "I was just asking in general if I wasn't as plain as I feel. Not because… you know…"

"Pah! You and your vanity."

He let out a deep breath and turned back to his work, cursing Tonks for worrying him. He'd never understood why females placed such an importance on their appearance.

Thirty-three years earlier...

"Maybe I should dye my hair blonde. What do you think, Alastor?"

Alastor narrowed his eyes as he read the sentence over again. There was something not quite right about the conclusion to his essay, but he wasn't sure what it was.

"Do you prefer blondes or brunettes?"

Perhaps he could reword his conclusion to make his case stronger. After all, Gamp's Law was probably a popular topic.

"I wonder if Colovaria will work…"

"For Merlin's sake, Cedrella, do you mind not nattering on?" he said, glaring at his friend.

The young Gryffindor was staring across the library at a group of Hufflepuff girls with Peggy Haywood at the centre. They were all giggling away, and as Peggy played with the end of her plait, Cedrella twisted a lock of her own red hair.

"Sorry, Alastor, just thinking…" she said, dropping her hand.

Alastor rolled his eyes and turned back to his work. He wasn't able to dot a single 'I,' though, as Cedrella placed a hand on his arm.

"What is it now?"

She pulled her hand back, but didn't break her gaze. Her eyes shone behind her horn-rimmed glasses, causing him to shift in his seat.

"Do you think I could pull off Peggy's hairdo?" she said, nodding towards the Hufflepuffs.

In the four years of their friendship, she'd only asked him about girly stuff three times. Just like now, it was usually something she could've asked the other girls in their house.

Still, if answering her question meant he would be able to get back to his work faster, he'd do it.

"Look, Peggy looks pretty with her blonde hair because she was born with it. You were born with red hair and freckles. There's no point in worrying about things that can't be changed," he said, looking at his essay.

Cedrella was silent for a moment. When she did reply, her voice was quieter, and he realised he'd finally be able to finish his work.

"Oh, okay… yeah… you're right," she said.

Alastor smiled as he slammed his quill down and scraped back his chair.

"Tonks, grab Wilkes. We're off to catch another piece of scum!" he said.

"D-Darren?" Tonks asked, standing up.

Alastor rolled his eyes. He'd finally realised who the murderer was, and if they didn't hurry, the mongrel was likely to strike again.

"Yes, Darren Wilkes. Hurry up, girl."

For the second time that day, Tonks' cheeks turned pink. She fiddled around with her robes before heading into the room to grab their colleague. When she finally returned, her eyes trained on Wilkes as the tall blond strutted in, he huffed and Disapparated into Diagon Alley.

"Alright, I've owled ahead, and Tom's confirmed Cromley's hanging around his pub. I want you to keep your eyes peeled, listen to his conversation, and wait for my signal," he said, eyeing the two younger Aurors.

They nodded, hands inconspicuously hovering over their wands.

He pushed The Leaky Cauldron's door open. "Remember, constant vigilance."

"Yes, Moody," Tonks said, rolling her eyes and smiling at Wilkes.

Alastor huffed and led them into the pub, his attention going back to the case at hand. True to Tom's word, Cromley was hanging out at a dimly lit table towards the back. He gestured for Tonks and Wilkes to sit with him at a nearby table.

His magical eye was focused on Cromley as he chatted away. The man didn't seem to have noticed the three of them sitting there, and as Alastor had hoped, he seemed to be bragging away to his mate.

"More effective than wands, ain't they? Bet they'd even take out Greyback if he gets too bossy," Cromley said.

"Silver bullets are nothink more than a myth," his shaggy-haired companion said.

Cromley gave him a toothy grin. "Worked for that Muggle, dinnit?"

Alastor leaned forward, his good eye focused on Tonks and Wilkes. Wilkes gave a slight nod; they had the final evidence to confirm his theory, and now they could make the arrest.

"Tonks, you block the front, Wilkes, the back. On the count of three..."

He slowly scraped back his chair and pulled out his wand. "Three! Stupefy!"

Cromley was more clever than he'd thought, and leapt out of his chair in time to miss the red light sent his way. Pushing his companion forward so that Alastor had to stun him too, Crowley then bounded over the chairs and headed straight for the front door.

"Tonks! What did I say about constant vigilance?"

His apprentice shook her head, returning her hair colour from the blonde she'd been experimenting with back to her usual purple, and drew her wand. With a flick of her wrist, she managed to shoot a Jelly-leg Jinx at Crowley's feet, effectively sending him crashing to the floor.

Alastor wasted no time in sending another stunning jinx at the man, this time meeting his target. Crowley was immediately knocked unconscious, allowing Wilkes to lift him off the floor.

Alastor turned to Tonks. "I'm not going to even bother asking what that was," he said, glaring at her.

"Sorry, Moody. It won't happen again," she said, staring at her feet.

All he could do was shake his head, having heard that once before.

Thirty-one years earlier...

"On the count of three… One… Two… Three!"

The piercing sound of Madam Hooch's whistle hit his ears, and he kicked off the ground. He could feel the woosh of his classmates' brooms behind him but kept his eyes focused on the end of Cantankerus Notts' broom. Nott was the only student in his way of getting the Outstanding grade, his new broom allowing him to lead the chase for the Snitch. However, as Alastor urged his own broom forward, he knew he'd soon be the one being raced after.

He smirked as he levelled with the Slytherin. "This one's in the bag—ouch!"

Something hard and heavy slammed into his right shoulder, sending him barrelling towards the lawn. Ignoring the throbbing pain in his body, he pulled on the tip of his broom and eased it up to lessen the impact of his landing.

Clambering off his broom, he turned to the person who had also come tumbling down with him.

"Merlin, Cedrella, what were you thinking?" he shouted, glaring at her.

She sniffled as she brushed herself off. "I didn't see you…" she said.

Alastor sighed, running a hand through his matted brown hair. "Where are your spectacles?" he asked.

Cedrella stared at her feet and shrugged. When she looked up, he saw that her blue eyes were slightly watery.

"I—I wanted to try something new…"

"And now you've cost me an Outstanding!" he said.

"I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you. I wanted to ask you something though…" she said.

At that moment, Madam Hooch blew her whistle and came bustling over with another group of students who had been observing.

"Is everyone alright?" she asked. "Remember, flying means you need to be constantly vigilant."

"But—Yes, Madam Hooch," he said, his mood darkening.

When she marched off again, Cedrella cleared her throat. ""Alastor, I was wondering… Do you think that maybe you'd like to go with me—"

"Don't worry too much, Al. Your flying was pretty great," Peggy Haywood cut in, offering him a brilliant white smile. "I'm sure you'll get it next time."

Alastor sighed. She had a point; he knew he could fly well, and there'd be another round the next lesson.

He smiled at Peggy. "You're right, thanks," he said, then turned to Cedrella. "What did you want to ask?"

Cedrella looked back and forth from him to Peggy and shook her head. "It's nothing."

"Finished," Tonks said quietly, placing a pile of forms on his desk.

Alastor knew enough about her by now to sense that something was off. He studied her as she slunk back to her desk, no bounce in her step. Her hair was a dull brown, and rather than toying with it, she got back to work.

She probably thought that filing paperwork was a punishment for what had happened the day before. If he was honest, it was. She still needed to realise that being an Auror wasn't all fun and games.

Still, her unusual silence was unnerving.

"Alright, I have a new task for you. Scrimgeour wants us to re-examine any and every person associated with the Death Eaters. Do you want to look into the Notts?"

Tonks looked at him, her eyes full of hope. "I'd love to—" She quickly closed her mouth, however, and shook her head.

"C'mon, the past is forgotten," he said.

"It's not that… Didn't Darren want it? It's all he's talked about for weeks now."

"Forget that tosser. This'll probably boost your career."

She stared at the file, chewing her lip. For a moment, it seemed that she'd take it. She shook her head again, though, and turned back to her work.

"It's fine, give it to Darren."

Alastor shrugged and turned back to his desk. His apprentice may have been a vain little thing, but at least she had a good core. When it came down to it, it was that soul that would allow her to become a great Auror.

Thirty years ago...

"I can't believe it. How could I have missed such an important detail?"

Alastor felt like tearing his hair out as he looked from his calendar to his timetable to his textbook. He'd written down the wrong due date for the major Transfiguration essay. Transfiguration was the next class after Charms, and he knew enough by now that Professor Flippet would not take kindly to him scribbling away during his lesson.

"No, no, no!" he said, feeling the tears begin to prickle his eyes.

Cedrella rested a hand on his shoulder. "You'd get an Outstanding even if you wrote it in five minutes," she said.

He shrugged her hand off and glared at his parchment. A single tear rolled down his nose and onto the blank white paper.

"I don't have five minutes," he snapped.

Cedrella rummaged around in her shoulder bag. She pulled out a pile of parchment and sat it on top of his desk.

"I'll tell Professor Flippet that you're not feeling well. Use my notes and get together what you can," she said.

Alastor flicked through them, his heart lifting; they were perfect. He turned to her to thank her, but she was already heading out the door.

Shrugging, he picked up his quill and got to work.

"Wotcha Moody!"

"'Morning."

Without having to look up, Alastor knew Tonks was back to her old self. Her loud voice was almost comforting compared to the miserable monotone she had sported the day before.

When he looked up to tell her to get straight to work, however, he almost fell off his chair. Gone was the cropped purple hair she'd loved so much lately, as were the baggy robes she usually favoured. Instead, long blonde hair swished over her shoulders, complimenting the tight, black robes she wore. Even her nose was different; it was smaller, less pronounced.

She looked like a model, and if it wasn't for the way she stumbled to her desk in her heels, he would've thought she was an imposter.

"Is something the matter?" she asked.

"Is there a case I don't know about?"

Tonks blushed and peered up at him beneath heavily mascaraed eyelashes. "Does it look alright? I was thinking about ditching work early if you don't mind."

He huffed and turned back to his desk.

"Please, Moody?"

"You look fine enough, lass," he said. "And yes, you may leave early—if you finish those reports."

Twenty-nine years ago...

"I didn't think you were coming. Not after you'd refused my invitation."

Alastor sighed and put down his drink. He hadn't intended on attending his parents' annual Christmas ball, but after his mother had sent two Howlers reprimanding him, he'd changed his mind.

"I'm not staying long—Cedrella?"

He had to rub his eyes, sure he was seeing things. His pumpkin juice must've been spiked because his gawky best friend had somehow turned into the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen.

Her normally tangled red hair was pulled up into an elegant bun, with soft ringlets framing her unblemished face. Her blue eyes, free from any spectacles, sparkled, and were set off by the royal-blue dress she wore.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"I—erm—you look… nice," he said. "Do you want to dance?"

Cedrella nodded and took his outstretched hand, allowing him to lead her to the dancefloor. Holding her tight, they waltzed around the room. He wasn't nearly as graceful as she was, and for once, he allowed her to guide him. Her eyes were locked on his, even though she was likely aware of all the eyes staring at her beauty.

When the song ended, she let go of his arm and took a step back.

"Thank you, Alastor, for the dance," she said.

Alastor tilted his head. "Oh, erm, no problem. Would you like to dance again?"

She shook her head. Although there was a small smile on her face, her eyes looked sad. "Thank you, but I just wanted to see what it was like. I should feel elated that you like me now—and I am, believe me, I am—but I've been chasing you for years, and now the chase is over."

He wasn't sure what to say to that. They had always been friends; it wasn't his fault he only realised now that she—and he—wanted more.

She sighed. "You only like me now that I'm beautiful, and that's not the same."

"That's not true—"

"Would you have asked me to dance any other time?" she said. "It's okay, though, I don't blame you. Take care, Alastor."

He opened his mouth to argue, but she was already walking across the floor, where several other young gentlemen were awaiting their turn to dance. Even if she had waited, he knew his arguments were pointless; it was because she was different, prettier, now that he'd asked her.

And it was only now, with his heart crumbling, that he'd realised just what he had lost.

"Wait," Alastor said.

Over at the door, Tonks groaned. "I finished everything…"

"I know. But…" he swallowed, not sure what to say. "Look, you're a fine Auror, Tonks. A little clumsy and with the most limited attention span I've seen yet, but still fine. If… if your crush can't see that now, there's no point in chasing him. Don't change who you are for anyone, alright?"

Tonks was silent for a moment. He'd worried he'd gone too far for a mentor until her face lit up in a huge smile.

"Awww, you do care!" she said, throwing her arms around him in a hug.

"Yes, yes, get off. Hurry up, before I change my mind," he said, awkwardly patting her head.

She pulled back and gave him a mock salute. "Aye, aye, captain."

As she ran out the door, he called after her, "And remember, constant vigilance!"

He shook her head as she gave him a wave. His thin lips turned up into a smile, however, as he saw the purple tinge returning to her hair as she disappeared around the corner.