Summary: He has always known, somehow, that she would end up walking into his life and changing its course. The early stages of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks's relationship, as explained by the different kinds of walking.

A/N: This was written for the first round at the All Hallows' Moon Jumble over at Metamorfic Moon on LiveJournal. A million thanks to ishandtwofourths and artificial-sprite for their patience and being fantastic betas. :D My prompts were a day of destiny, romance, the giant squid, and I chose location prompt #36 (picture of a man and a woman's shoes). This story only covers OotP, mainly because it was turning out to be longer than I expected and there wasn't enough time to write about HBP and DH, lol! Feedback would be greatly appreciated. :)

Footsteps

(n.) a step with the foot; a step on which to go up or down.

I. Tiptoe

(v.) to move or go on tiptoe, as with caution or stealth;
(adj.) eagerly expectant.

He knows what will happen before it does.

Her arms flail wildly in the air, a little squeak of panic escaping her lips as she pitches forward and plummets rather ungracefully towards the ground. Remus Lupin's eyes widen, the heavy tome in his hands abruptly forgotten as he prepares to dive to her rescue. He knows he has made a foolish mistake when it falls on his feet with a loud thud, rendering him incapable of performing any kind of saving. He grimaces and holds back a yelp, and as his toes protest under the weight of the massive book, he finds himself looking down into a pair of dark eyes.

They belong to a woman with spiky pink hair, who lies on the floor with the blush on her cheeks evident even in the dimly lit hallway. An awkward silence passes between them as they exchange uncomfortable looks. Remus manages to remember how to be a gentleman after he picks up the book from his feet, so he extends a hand to help the newcomer. She gratefully reaches for it, and as her fingers brush his, he feels something stir at the warm touch of her skin. The fact that there is a meeting he has to go back to (and Dumbledore needs the book on giants he had just fetched from the library) slips from his mind.

"Thanks," the woman says, and while she straightens herself up and tries to remove the creases in her clothing, Remus gets a few moments to study her profile. Her bright, short hair stands out in contrast to the dark blue of what look like Ministry robes, and he catches a glimpse of what she wears under them – a loud, green t-shirt with the slogan The Weird Sisters emblazoned on it, and a pair of jeans with the holes in them artfully designed. Her eyes meet his again, and this time, Remus feels a flush blooming across his cheeks because she has caught him staring – no,observing. An uncertain smile appears on her face, and her dark eyes sparkle as the blush caused by her grand entrance fades.

"I tried to come early, I really did!" she rushes to explain, her hands making wild gestures as she points to the rug beneath their feet and the troll leg umbrella stand that lies toppled behind her. "But I got held up at work because Scrimgeour wanted a word, and Kingsley, git he is, left without me!" The words tumble out of her mouth, and all Remus can do is nod at her as she babbles on without acknowledging him.

"Not that I couldn't have come here by myself. I did! I'm an Auror, for Merlin's sake!" she cries. "Anyway, I've already been here before, and Moody himself was there to show me around. There wasn't a meeting then, and it's just my bloody luck that the first time I have to attend one, I'm late and I make a spectacular display of my clumsiness. But it's not my fault! I tried to tiptoe in so I wouldn't disturb everyone, but I didn't even notice that thing was there!" Remus takes this break in the conversation as an opportunity to attempt to understand what she is going on about.

His eyebrow arches of its own accord as he wonders what to make of the absurdity of the situation: here is a young woman who looks as though she should be heading to a rock concert after work, and not a meeting in a spooky and depressing old manor in the middle of London. She, in all of the fire and light she exudes, definitely looks out of place in the gloominess of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. And there is also the umbrella stand that she speaks so vehemently of, as though it is entirely to blame for her stumble. His gaze travels upon it. It does look innocent enough and is probably the victim of the new girl, he thinks wryly.

"It's just so… dark and creepy. I should've expected my relatives to bethat disturbing, what with using a troll's leg to house umbrellas..."

Relatives? Remus thinks, his brain doing a poor job of trying to catch up with what she is saying.Wait until you see the stuffed elf heads.

"...I mean, okay. Did you see it there?" Her tone is almost accusatory, and Remus bites back a chuckle. "Wait..." she pauses, her eyes growing wide, "It's not your umbrella stand, is it?"

"It generally just likes to fade into the background," he says after a moment of consideration. "Nobody really goes out of their way to pay any special attention to it. Well, until you came along…" he trails off, the laughter he fights hard to restrain beginning to surface.

She grins, which is the opposite of the reaction he expects. "I always told Moody and Kingsley that I'd be the one to spice things up over here. And all they did was laugh at me! I knew I'd prove them wrong," she declares, wearing a smug expression.

"Indeed," Remus replies. "I must say, we need as much 'spice' as we can get to keep things from getting deathly dull around here." The words leave his mouth before he can think better of them, and he inwardly cringes at the stupidity of his statement. Spice? How lame can you get, Lupin?

The grin on her mouth turns devilish. "Then you've got the right woman for the job. I'm Tonks."

He takes the hand she offers and shakes it, embarrassment still clear in his countenance. "Remus Lupin."

The moment their hands touch for a second time, a sort of eager expectation fills him. He quickly thinks better of it. There is something about this young witch – Tonks – that makes him want to run screaming in the other direction because her boldness, both in deed and how she carries herself, shakes his normally stable footing. Yet it is that same boldness which also roots him to the spot. He knows something is wrong with him when he realizes he feels like the troll leg umbrella stand, knocked over unexpectedly by the tornado unleashed by a certain witch called Tonks.

A/N2: One down, five more vignettes to go. Trust me, I'll be speedy with the updates on this one. :D Thank you for reading, and if you have the time, please review!