Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
A/N: This story skips between past and present (present being around OotP). The prologue is the past, in Tonks' seventh year in Hogwarts.
Prologue
"Damn, damn, damn, damn!" I whispered harshly, hopping unevenly around the small bedroom, gathering my scattered clothes. I leant over uncomfortably to grab a sock, and somehow to fall flat on the ground. "Oof." I jumped up, and glanced nervously at the sleeping man lying just a few meters from me. I let out a sigh of relief. I would have to bolt if he saw me. And I rather like this flat. I looked appreciatively around. I might spend a few more minutes here before I left. Perhaps maybe even grab some breakfast. I'm sure he wouldn't mind. He seemed almost freaky kind yesterday.
I rolled my eyes, and threw my ratty t-shirt quickly over my shoulders. God, I was immature. I should go now, before I manage to wreck anything. I couldn't help but hesitate at the bedroom doorway, though. My eyes swept over his disarrayed body, lying tangled in the sheets. He looked a whole bloody lot younger when he was sleeping. His longish tawny hair was covering a particularly deep scar that I had noticed on his forehead. I had wondered what happened to him. Poor thing.
He stirred slightly, and I jumped, nearly knocking over a vase beside me. Damn. I have to go. I took a weary glance at the door, and looked back at him. For some reason, I was unsure about leaving. I felt kind of…bad, or something. Like I wanted something more…I shook my head and grimaced. No. I wasn't that kind of girl.
Taking one last glance at him, I quickly went out the door, careful to avoid knocking anything.
As soon as I was outside, I felt a cold breeze pass over me, and a guilty sensation swish around in my stomach. Perhaps I should have left a note.
I hastily checked my watch, and felt my stomach plummet. Dammit! Graduation was in five hours! I shut my eyes tightly, and tried with all my might to concentrate on Hogsmede. Charlie Weasley was never gonna let me live this down.
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